san francisco total war

Jack

I walked in to the restaurant and saw My target Harry Carl his two body guards got up with as he left the Asian eating alone so Harry could take a piss. I took my gun out and pointed it at the two guards standing guard to the bathroom before either could move they were slumped on the floor with bullets in their head. I put the pistol away this kill required a more personal touch. As I walked through the door Harry came at me with a punch I caught it at smashed his head on the cubicle corner ah he cried out, I got him in a head lock kicking the door to the cubicle open, I kicked the toilet lid up and threw him at it. His head landed in the bowl and I started repeatedly smashing his head with the lid "no" he gurgled as I pushed his face down into the drink and flushed it. He struggled to get out kicking his leg frantically as he was suffocated I let him go when the flush was finished he pulled himself up "what" he said to me in surprise. I Dragged him out to the Asian he smiled and talked "you should not of mest with us Mr Carl ,goodbye" Conner came in and helped me drag him round to the back alley. Conner opened the dumpster and I put a live grenade down his pant, we both hoisted him in the dumpster and started to walk away at a steady pace "so this girl you did she pretty" I said
"you know me Jack I only have eyes for you" he sarcastically as the dumpster blew up behind them "so is the next mission the same as this or do I get to have some fun."

Conner

Conner and Jack walked into the hotel this was no subtle mission this one required Lot's of violence Jack walked in and splattered two guy's all over the wall with AK47 Conner held 2 Ozzie's and was killing every one who wasn't Jack.

Frank Howlert

The battered cruiser was half-way down a road which had had it's road sign obliterated in some past battle when Frank and the vehicle's other two occupants recieved the call about a hit occurring in a hotel. When Frank inquired as to why they had to divert from their course to stop this he was informed curtly that his 'team' was the closest to the disturbance (Why did they still call them 'disturbances'? Frank wondered. It was hardly a cat stuck up a tree or an arguing couple). As both the man behind the wheel and the highest ranking officer in the cruiser, it was really in Frank's hands as to what their course of action was. Begrudgingly he accepted the new mission and, muttering as many profanities as he could think of, he spun the cruiser around just like he'd seen Starskey and Hutch do in that old TV series that never quite portrayed the truth about the police business as far as Frank was concerned.

The cruiser pulled up to the hotel less than two minutes later and the three officers threw themselves out of the car, fully armed, and rushed headlong into the hotel through the splendid glass front doors that by some kind of crazy miracle were still standing. They assemballed in all-around defense with Frank in the centre, weapons at their shoulders ready to fire.
The lobby was empty.
The youthful new members of his group sighed in dissappointment and Frank sighed in relief - sure this was practically day-to-day stuff now for Frank, but he still hated the thought of coming so close to death; and what with the practically defunct MP5s they were issued with until they could ship in some real weapons from the outside world, it really was a massive danger for Frank and his team every time they went into combat against these heavily funded gangs.
As his team crouched around him awaiting his next order, Frank surveyed the carnage that had been wreeked in the lobby. Barely centimetres away from the toe of his newest member was the leg of who Frank assumed to be the first casualty. The rest of this poor person seemed to have been turned to pulp by some bullets - Frank guessed at least one Uzi was involved. Further along the once golden carpet, now stained almost totally red with victims' blood, lay four more casualties - three women and one young man. It looked like, in the panic the women had huddled towards the man for protection before they were all gunned down and fell together in their little huddle to end up in this mess of limbs and blood which lay in front of Frank like some sick surrealist's latest art exhibit. Except these weren't sculptures. The deaths were many and varied and Frank only had time to scan over them all - one boy who, when the bullets hit him, had been propelled into a potted plant in which he was now stuck head-first, his feet sticking straight up like in a cartoon; a man who had obviously reached the phone behind the gold-plated reception desk only to be ripped to pieces before he had even dialled a single number; two young lovers who had obviously decided they didn't want to die virgins - that would be messy for forensics to clean up (they'd probably get the whole forensic department down for this one: all three of them) - and many more perfectly innocent by-standers who had simply been in the wrong place at a very wrong time.
At the end of the lobby Frank spied a grand staircase whcih curved away and up right and left. Blood was running, and beginning to dry, down the left hand set of steps. It's like they left sign-posts for us, Frank thought.
"Ok men," Frank stepped out of the circle and pointed towards the bloody stairs. His men got the message and, weapons still in the crook of their shoulders, they crept along in single file behind their leader. Frank, confident his team knew how to handle themselves, began to climb the stairs.

*could we please keep this storybook going?*

***Sorry i have to drop out of this one, any one may have my character***

I don't know what to say...

*whats just happened to your character?*

*anyone wanna join?*

Name: Christian Arkensop
Age: 28
Gang: COPS
profession: Foot soldier
History: Born into the beginning of San Fransiscos fall into disrepair, he saw the world around him getting worse everyday. His home was robbed regularly and because his father never did anything the robberies never stopped. So a naive young man he joined the bombers in an attempt to protect his home. After his mother died (She was a bystander in a gang shoot out) he realised that the only way to fix his beloved san fran was to put the law back in command. He shot down his gang partners, stole their gear and joined the COPS.
appearance: Shaggy blonde hair and an old SWAT uniform including body armour (A rare and valued commodity). An AK 101 "You can load with just about anything", a heckler and Koch USP Elite and a cestnus (Metal glove) on his right hand.
personality: Temperamental, enjoys getting up close and personnal with criminals.
salary: He gets payed a small salary and is payed in food. He sleeps in the police station. "I can't rent a place i need the money for bullets!"

Mickey Conti

Mickey's eyes darted around the alley he'd left only moments earlier. Where'd those brats gone?
He just had chance to register a movement above him before a second girl swung down and kicked him in the face. He was stunned for a moment but managed to stay on his feet as he staggered a few steps back from the girl, who was now dropping off the pipe she had been clinging to and landing deftly on the grubby alley floor.
"Who are you?" Mickey grunted, already pulling a second pistol up to threaten the new girl with.
"You don't even know who i am?!" she shrieked and flung another kick at his head. Mickey barely dodged it and, side-stepping while still aiming his weapon at her head, began another question.
"Where are the two..." But this girl wasn't giving up, she struck again and again, the pistol clutched viciously in her hand momentarily forgotten. Mickey barely dodged or blocked each strike as it flew at him. A sudden gun-shot stopped both combatants in their tracks. From down the mouth of the alley appeared Johnny, now toting a smoking shotgun which he aimed at the boy who had stolen Mickey's money and pistol. The boy, although still clutching both the money and Mickey's beloved pistol, looked a lot less sure of himself now. And yet, at the same time, he didn't look half as scared as most of the men Mickey was used to intimidating.
"This who you're lookin' for boss?" Johnny looked pleased with himself.
"Yes." Mickey spat. he reached forward and snatched the pistol out of the boy's hand, checked it affectionately for any damaged and then quickly holstered it again. "Where's the girl?"
"Isn't she...?" Johnny nodded towards the girl Mickey had been fighting, and was still aiming his other pistol at.
"No there was another girl you idiot." Mickey sighed. "And don't think just because I'm not looking at you that I won't know if you move." Johnny looked dumbstruck for a second and Jasey, who had been preparing herself for another bout of attacking, froze again.
"Oh. She ran off. I shot at her, but I...missed." Johnny trailed off. Mickey rolled his eyebrows, but didn't look too bothered now he had his belongings back: he quickly grabbed and pocketed the money again.
"Now, where were we?" Mickey smiled malevolently as he turned back to the girl. "Why don't we try the introductions again? I'm Mickey, this is Johnny and you...?" In return the girl just spat at him and raised her own gun at Johnny. "Ha, you think I care about him?" Johnny grunted and moved his shotgun, almost to remind the girl that he had her friend hostage.
"You think I care about him?" the girl asked Johnny, mocking Mickey. Mickey's eyes narrowed in concealed anger. Out of nowhere the boy being held hostage surprised everyone by whipping out another pistol, which he aimed at Mickey's head, completing the Mexican stand-off. All involved stood deadly still, almost daring the other members to react first.
The first to react was the girl, who shot Johnny. In his death throes, Johnny instinctively pulled the trigger, splattering half of the boy up the alley wall not seconds after the boy, following the girl's lead, had shot Mickey. Delighted by the bloody way things had turned out Mickey, in a last burst of adrenaline before his brain caught up with the fact that he was dead, fired his beloved pistol at the girl.
All four shooters, thanks to the skill with which the others handled a gun, died within the next minute.

Christian

"Christian," came the voice through my police radio. "You there?"
"Yeah i'm here" i replied picking up the mike.
"We need you to head out to a hotel. We sent a team and they say they want back up."
"Alright i'll head over ASAP." I put the mike down, finished cleaning my AK 101, hopped on my police motorbike and sped through the city. On my way i dodged a few casual pot shots from drunk or bored gang members but there hearts really weren't in it. At least not after i ran them over. I parked my bike, put the keys in my pocket and put a clamp on my bike. (Hey you can never be too careful). I swucg my AK 101 around and headed into the lobby. The place was a mess. It looked like someone had thrown people in a giant blender, not put the lid on then served it as a room sized bloody mary.

*will post soon :s been busy*

ok so... skull3670, your character's speeding to Frank's aid and Frank is still scaling the stair of the hotel ready to face the two mobsters at the top responsible for the massacre in the lobby am i right?...oh wait no you're character is in the lobby isn't he? silly me

Can I join???

definitely we're trying to pull this storybook back since it nearly died. fraid you might have a little back up reading to do (yh there's only one page but you shud see the length of the posts...) but its barely started so you dont need to understand much. my summary probably got most of it actually...