Brick

Notice: We're not accepting new characters at the moment. Sorry! Feel free to read, though. ^_^ Also, this is rated R due to there being swearing and some violence.

Prologue
"Open it."

Nathan Renswick frowned. As Minister Harbold's assistant, it was his job to help Harbold deal with issues related to Human Research. But last time he'd checked, this was not a part of his job. He turned his back to the Minister, hand closing around the gun in his hand.

Unlike everyone, including the government, was led to believe, Harbold was not simply the man responsible for overseeing that research companies looking for new cures were following procedure and spending taxpayers money right. If it had been, Nathan never would have taken this job. But Harbold was also in charge of something else... something far more interesting. Well, he and Minister Ballham.

Nathan carefully opened the door, ears straining to hear any movement. Finally the door was open, and Nathan cringed. There were three men lying face down in pools of their own blood. it wasn't much of a surprise, they hadn't stood a chance against the cases once they woke up.

"And the cases are dead?" Harbold asked, looking around the room with little emotion.
"That's what I was told," Nathan confirmed.
"I don't want to know what you were told. I want to know the facts. Go and check!"
Nathan looked at Bellham, shocked. "Go check? Are you insane? If only one of them is still alive they'd kill me!"
Harbold gave Nathan a dark look, his wrinkled forehead creasing in displeasure. "It wasn't a request, Nathan," he said, pulling out a gun. At the same instant, Nathan raised his gun.
"You think that's a good idea, old man? Because I don't," Nathan warned darkly.

Characters
NPC - Nathan Renswick, Minister of Human Research. Murdered Harbold, who previously held the position.
NPC - Morgan Bellham, Minister of Public Relations.
PC - Talia, orphan and assistant to Morgan Bellham.
PC - László Bandi (changed to Noah Beaumont), disgraced assassin.
NPC - Gregor Bandi, imprisoned international arms dealer.

"Leaving already, Talia?" Stephanie asked as Talia closed the door to Minister Bellham's office. Talia smiled at Bellham's personal assiatnt, though there was little love lost between them.
"I was just picking up some files for Morgan," Talia said, ever so slightly raising the pile of folders she had in her hands.
Stephanie kept a polite smile on her face untll Talia was gone, but it quickly turned to a frown. The fact was, ever since Talia had shown up Stephanie had stopped being Bellham's assiant and started being a bit more like his receptionist. Which Talia knew vexed Stephanie to no end since there was little explanation for why Bellham was so quick to adopt into his trust an unwanted orphan. A confusion Talia often shared, since she'd never been told exactly how it was that the adoption agency had known that Bellham would take her if no one else would. She had no memory of ever meeting the man, worse, she had no memories of her life before being taken in by the agency.

Talia sighed. Either way, she had been pleasantly surprised when Morgan Bellham had welcomed her into his home. Unlike the other people the agency left her with, he'd made no attempt to make her 'family'. Instead he had made her a deal: he'd take care of her until she was a legal adult, on the condition that she took care of him. The deal had been pretty sweet, since he's set her up with a job as his secretary right away, despite her only being 12. Somehow he'd known she was very mature for her age. Though as the years had progressed, she and Stephanie had started switching places. Bellham's health was failing, and as it did he started trusting fewer and fewer people with his business. Including Stephanie.

Which was why Talia was the one he'd asked to bring him some work to do while he stayed in the hospital to recover from the hip surgery he'd just undergone. Though in less than two months Talia would soon be 19, and her 'deal' with Bellham would expire. She had no idea what would happen then, though over the years Bellham had become a lot more of a father figure to her than she'd ever thought anyone would.

"What did you say?" Someone shouted, making her jumped. She looked around, finally realizing the sound had come from behind a door at the end of the hall. She frowned; there wasn't supposed to be anyone here at this hour of the day. The building was reserved for people from the Ministry of Public Relations. Carefully tucking the files into her messenger bag, Talia approached quietly.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? We had a deal," the man hissed. Talia vaguely recognized it, though she couldn't quite identify who it belonged to.

The was a long pause. "You think you scare me? You have no idea who you're dealing with. I killed Harbold to get this position, and I won't hesitate to kill you to keep it."

Talia gasped. Almost 13 years before, Harbold, the Minister of Human Research, had been murdered. Nathan Renswick, who was Harbold's right hand man, had been promotied to replace him. Talia remembered meeting him one, in passing. It stuck out in her mind because he had seemed bizarely familiar to her, despite the fact they'd never met.

The door flung open suddenly and Talia jumped back, stunned to see a gun pointed in her direction. The man holding it was one of he many menacing looking bodyguards hat some politicians had follow them around.
"It's a girl," he grunted, turning his head slightly towards the room, though his eyes remained on Talia.
"I--" Talia began.
"Kill her," Renswick's voice said from inside the room.

What happened next happened very suddenly. For a brief instant, the guard blinked, and compelled by some unrecognizable instinct, Talia lunged forward, kicking the hand holding the gun. She had no idea what had possessed her to do so, but as she saw the gun go flying she quickly turned and ran, flying towards the stairs.

---

"Calm down, Talia. Tell me again what you heard," Morgan said through the phone. Talia was sitting in the back of the bus, heart pouding eratically in her chest.
"Minister Renswick was talking to someone on the phone and he said he'd killed Minister Harbold! Then he told his bodyguard to kill me!" she whispered frantically.
Morgan was silent on the other end of the phone for a long moment. "Alright, listen to me Talia, don't come here," Morgan said calmly. Talia nodded. She had a terrible headache to top it all off, which she was getting more and more frequently these days.
"Okay. Where should I go?"
"The Vespers Café. I'm going to have someone meet you there."
"Who?"
"Don't worry, Talia. He'll keep you safe."

Talia didn't like the way Morgan avoided her question, but she trusted him.
"Okay."

ooc: Are we doing this first person or third person? I started with third, but I can switch.

ooc: I think I'll do it in third person. You can do whichever.

Noah Beaumont. In dark and secretive circles, the name was practically synonymous with ruthless and high-price contract killings. The man himself, an impassive figure of above-average height and with a slender frame, had come up with the moniker in a vague attempt to distance himself from his parents: an underworldly arms dealer and his illogically religious mistress. The assassin had put in more than a few years' worth of work in hot spots around the world, and had a nasty habit of killing off former employers.

This had culminated in the would-be assassination of Noah's own father. The hit had gone terribly wrong. Noah's father escaped with a few missing fingers and a disfigured face, whereas the young assassin managed to crawl away with a foot-long knife scar across his shoulderblades, and the bloodlust of half his father's organization. He'd live the rest of his life by the mantra, "if you strike a king, kill him".

Noah had, however, found salvation in the strangest of places: Morgan Bellham. A seemingly friendly man with a slew of ways to help- or hurt- those who didn't expect it. In this case, help came in the form of indictments. Noah's father, along with a solid dozen of his comrades and a whole squad of corrupt officials went down in an incredibly large scandal. Morgan acted the role of a puppeteer, and merely pulled at the strings of wealth, influence, and power.

...

If Noah had ever possessed any large sum of blood money, it didn't show. He was unshaven and unclean. His car was rusting over and emitted a horrific smell along with a rattling sound as he pulled off to the parking lot of the "Vespers Café". It was sleazy, though even he would stick out as a shady-looking character here. Unkempt, dark-brown hair nearly hid his eyes from the veil of clouds blocking out the sun as he struggled with the handle of the sedan's door to open it.

One broad, untwitching hand moved to adjust the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt; concealing a tattoo that read "Deus Ex Machina" in the process. Bells wheezed out an unpleasant jingle overhead while he moved inside, and seated himself at a booth in the corner with a clear view of the entrance. He'd barely managed to fumble through his pockets for a pack of cigarettes by the time a nasally voice rang out behind him: "No smoking in here, sir. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Water." Noah's voice was surprisingly smooth for an apparent smoker. The waitress nodded and walked off; he returned his attention to the door.

OOC: Okay. ^_^ Added your characters to the first post. By the way, are you thinking we should do the little 'name, age, description and quick bio' thing they usually do for characters? I was in a rush so I didn't do one earlier, but it could be useful for referencing to if we forget details (like age and description =P).

IC

Talia paused outside the Vespers Cafe, hand gripping her messenger bag uncertainly. From what Morgan had said, she got the impression she wasn't going to get a chance to go home any time soon, meaning all she had to her name at the moment was the contents of her bag and the clothes on her back. She didn't like that. She also didn't like the look of this cafe. It looked run down and highly suspicious.

As she opened the door, she caught her reflection in the window. Her eyes were wider than they should be, the whites of her eyes standing out against her nut brown skin. She looked afraid, which she doubted was going to help her much her. She bit her lip, forcing herself to calm down. Morgan was going to look after her, he had always looked after her. She stepped into the cafe. As Morgan had instructed, she moved her bag unto the opposite shoulder. Talia guessed this was some sort of signal to whoever she was supposed to be meeting, but she worried they hadn't already arrived. She didn't want to be standing here attracting people's attention for very long.

The outside of the cafe was unfortunately indicative of the interior; the place could use some serious cleaning up. Not to mention everyone here looked pretty shady, which set of a number of alarms in her mind. One in particular, sitting in a both in the corner, stood out; somehow she just knew he was dangerous. Worse, he was looking right at her.

ooc: Meh. I think we can flesh the characters out enough here. If you want to do them, though, I'd be more than happy to.

A girl walked in. She looked out-of-place, and even a little nervous. Noah slid his water to his free hand, watching the twirling little speck of foamy white which bore a sickly resemblance to spittle bob with the ripples. He cleared his throat. The girl shifted the bag to her other shoulder: the revealing mark that Morgan had promised. Not that she'd needed to - it was pretty obvious she wasn't in this particular diner out of her own free will.

She seemed to have caught his glare, so he raised his hand lightly to garner her attention, and then tapped it down against the table twice. Another quick arch, and he'd broadly gestured to the seat in front of him.

The disinterested waitress from before walked by, and he called out to her lightly: "Excuse me."

She turned around, hand loose on her hip. "Mmhm?"

He offered up a fake smile, and spoke: "Mind getting me another water? Preferably without this shit in it?" He raised the glass as he finished speaking, and the woman feigned an apology before rushing away. Noah was sure she would just scoop it out with her fingernail or something, anyways. He shook his head and turned to wait for Morgan's associate-in-need.

Talia's first reaction when the man raised his hand was to think he was looking at someone else. But a check behind her showed that she was the only one in her general direction. And he was looking right at her. He tapped his hand down on he table twice, then indicated the seat in front of him.

Him? Talia thought in disbelief. Was this the guy who was going to keep her safe? He was the shadiest person in the whole place! It didn't help that a moment later he sent a waitress scurrying off, looking more than a little intimidated.

Seeing his attention turn back to her she decided to stop stalling and go sit down. She crossed the cafe and slid into the seat across from him. Now that she was closer, she only felt her initial opinio re-affirmed: this man was dangerous. Though oddly, she didn't feel threatened by him. Though she was somewhat intimidated. Perhaps having a gun pointed at her head had desensitized her a bit.

"Um... hi," she said, after a pause. She wasn't actually sure what she was supposed to say, mainly because she didn't know what Morgan had told him. Which was new, since usually she made calls for Morgan, so as a general rule she always knew what was going on.

"Yeah," Noah mumbled. "Hi." He rubbed his sleeved arm against the corners of his mouth roughly before setting them back down to the tabletop, refusing to so much as conceal the fact he didn't shake the woman's hand. "So, your Morgan's pal. Heard too much or something, right?" He asked, eying her up and down briefly. He shrugged, as if he was obliged to offer up an opinion of the girl and declined.

"How did you get here?" He asked suddenly, shifting one large hand to point to the glass doors in emphasis.

The waitress from before appeared behind him, dropping the water down with a 'thud'. It was cleaner this time, at least. "Something I can get you two?" she asked.

'Morgan's pal' was not at all the way she would have described herself, but Talia let it go. If Morgan hadn't felt the need to disclose the close nature of their relationship, she didn't either. Besides, she wasn't sure she trusted this man entirely.

After the way he eyed her, she wasn't sure if his question about how she'd gotten here was to check and see if she was an idiot, or just to know.

"I walked from about 3 blocks away," she answered. "I was on the bus before that." She was pretty good with directions and Morgan had given her some decent ones. Since the bus was the obvious way she had left the office, she had opted to get off early in case someone followed her and asked where she'd gotten off. Though Talia wasn't really sure why she'd worried about something like that. Somehow this whole situation was a little too easy to accept. Though she'd always been mature for her age, so maybe that was why she wasn't a total hysterical wreck.

When the waitress approached, Talia considered the question. She didn't much like the look of the establishment, and she wasn't all that hungry. Not to mention the water wasn't looking too clear. Though it was generally rude to hang around a restaurant without ordering something.
"Some tea would be nice," she decided. At least if the water was boiled it would kill some of the germs lurking in it. She hoped.

Noah nodded briefly. "A hamburger." He said, and shot a glance in the direction of the waitress. She nodded and scribbled it down before moving to the kitchen. He assumed she would strive to make his food at least aesthetically pleasing, if nothing else, based on their previous little encounter. He swiveled the glass of water in his hand for a while, but didn't actually drink from it.

"You weren't followed?" He asked, putting some level of trust in the woman's judgment. It came out as more of a statement than a question, in reality. His eyes fell to the entrance yet again. No-one suspicious had walked through; maybe the people after her weren't following her just yet. He certainly hoped so. He didn't know much about the situation, though Morgan had pointed out that her assailants would most likely be well-dressed and professional.

He smirked and finally took a sip, eyes gauging Talia yet again and wondering what sort of predicament she had caused to put her life in such peril. Noah was notorious for what he did: if he hadn't owed Morgan his life, this little babysitting errand would have cost quite a bit of money. "I'm Noah, by the way." He explained cautiously. "I, uh, assume you understand you won't be doing a whole lot of your 'normal life' stuff while this is going on. For however long it lasts." He rubbed the back of his neck with a shrug. "We're just waiting on Morgan's call." He'd never really worked on the 'defensive' side of these kinds of job, and his inexperience showed only slightly.

Talia nodded at his question about being followed, though she got the impression it was less of a question than anything else. She'd actually found herself checking for people behind her--and not by turning her head. She'd been glancing in car mirrors and on her sunglasses whenever she took them off to wipe them. Which was a smart way to do it, but she still was a bit weirded out by the fact she'd done so right off the bat without even taking time to think about it.

"Talia," she offered after he'd introduced himself. Though he hadn't asked her name, so she wasn't sure that he didn't already know it--or simply didn't care.

"I, uh, assume you understand you won't be doing a whole lot of your 'normal life' stuff while this is going on. For however long it lasts," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a shrug. Talia returned the shrug. She'd never been one for 'normal life' stuff. Which was exactly why she'd never been permanently adopted. Normal children played with toys and ran around. Talia had a bizarre tendency to sit down in a corner or small space and sit. She would completely zone out, not thinking about anything. Even now that she was older she had little interest in socializing or 'hanging out'. She didn't have a problem with the new arrangements, though she didn't much like that Stephanie would be caring for Morgan.

"We're just waiting on Morgan's call." He added. Talia nodded. Morgan had said he'd call when it was safe to move, but she knew he wouldn't be calling her. She'd turned off her cell before getting off the bus. Because she did so much work for Morgan, her number was on file and it would be all too easy for Minister Renswick to ask Stephanie for it or just look it up. She'd have to get another phone, if she wanted to call and check up on Morgan.

"What are we going to do?" Talia asked to fill the time. Though she was very interested to know what the plan was, especially since it apparently revolved around keeping her alive.

Noah scratched his nose, inhaled deeply, and adjusted the revolver concealed in the back of his jeans. His fingers made their way back to the table at about the same time as his plate did; garnished with a sickly-looking burger and some thin, wan fries. He cleared his throat when Talia asked her question, and reached forward for a bottle of ketchup.

"Well," he began, "Mostly we're just gonna' focus on making sure you don't get shot." He slapped the bottle a few times until ketchup oozed out with a noisy wheeze onto his plate. "Everything besides that is pretty much guesswork." He smirked lightly and scooped some ketchup onto one of the fries. "I don't know how much Morgan told you about me..." he used his free hand to gesture in wide, spiraling arcs. "... but I've got a bit of experience with this kind of stuff." He wavered his hand lightly.

"Morgan told me these guys might be professional, though," he admitted. "You wanna' enlighten me a little, here? Who're we up against?"

Talia, rubbed her temples. She had a splitting headache. She took a sip of her tea, which tasted terrible, and sighed. She contemplated Noah for a moment, not sure how much to tell him. But she figured that if she was going to trust him with her life, she may as well trust him with what she knew.

"I overheard Minister Renswick talking to someone on the phone. It sounded like they'd crossed him, or something. He told them he'd kill them like he'd killed Minster Harbold, who was minister of Human Research before Renswick. He's got a lot of power, and he has professional body guards. But he could easily hire-" Talia paused. She'd been about to say 'someone like you', but decided against it. "Well anyone, really. He has the governments money and their backing, for now. You probably shouldn't let anyone know I told you what I heard, though. He'd want you dead too," she added. Though she wasn't sure that Renswick wouldn't want Noah dead anyways.

She sighed and rubbed her temples. Noah arched an eyebrow but returned to his horrid little burger. The juices were acrid and ungodly, so he set it back down and swished some murky water in his mouth to factor out the taste. Another fry, which - thoroughly dunked in ketchup - wasn't half bad, and he was listening to her speak.

His eyes were impassive and he shrugged off the facts: about Renswick having killed his predecessor. It wasn't that he didn't believe it, just that he was beyond being phased by the corruption and violence that man seemed oh-so prone towards. He scratched his cheek for a few seconds and nodded. "Government, huh." He coughed into the crook of his elbow. "I've dealt with government before. Not like this, though." He shrugged broadly - and chuckled when she said Renswick would want him dead, too. "If what you said is true, and I'm guessing - based on Morgan's call - that it is, then Renswick's gonna' want everyone you've so much as bumped into since then dead. But, hell," he rolled his shoulders back and leaned farther into the booth. "I'm sure I would've fried years ago if that asshole always got his way."

Noah slid the burger away, obviously finished with it. "Up for a little road-trip, then?" He rubbed the stubble growing on his chin. "I don't really want to hang around one place too long, you know." And finally: "... and I would hate to die in this shithole."

Talia got the impression Renswick and Noah had some history, though she decided to tuck the thought away and ask later, since she doubted it was really any of her business. Though she felt a thrill of nausea; there had been people on the bus. Though she pushed the thought away, telling herself that it would be far too difficult to track them down, since the bus hadn't had any security cameras. Luckily.

What about Morgan? Most people knew how close she was to him, it wouldn't be hard to guess she'd have called him for advice. Though she doubted Renswick could touch Morgan. But there was always that slim chance...

"Yeah," Talia said, smiling a little at his comment about not wanting to die there. "Let's go." She stood, leaving the money for her sorry excuse for dishwater in a tea cup and waiting for him to lead the way.

Noah rose sullenly, and reached to his backpocket for his wallet. He flipped it open, revealing the fact that it was near-literally stuffed with crisp, high-denomination bills. He slapped a few down on the counter: plenty more than his water and unfinished burger were worth, and stuffed the wallet into his jeans again. He rubbed the base of his nose and wordlessly made way for the parking lot, and his beat-up little sedan around back.

Here, he opened his own door, sat down, and waited for Talia to do the same. He leaned forward to remove the revolver from the back of his jeans, transferring it to an ankle holster now - apparently easier to reach while he was driving. He turned the key in the ignition, and spoke over a combination of static and Rod Stewart's cover of 'Have You Ever Seen the Rain?' on the radio. "I figure..." he began, before turning to back out of the parking lot, "... that we find some little motel outside of town. No questions, fake names, all that jazz..." he pulled into mainstream traffic, and weaved in and out between various cars, "... and just wait this whole thing out. Sound good?"