Clutches of Earth's Life [Closed, Started]

Spoiler

Hello, everyone, and welcome to my first ever SB that has been made by me and me alone! I hope you all like it and enjoy it!

This SB is currently still in construction. Please be patient.

He sat down, pushing the manilla envelope to you.

"You know what's happening in the world, don't you?" The small light above you started to flicker for a moment and a mysterious gust of air sent it swinging back and forth, back and forth, casting deep shadows upon tha man in front of you.

You say nothing. The man smiles and cracks his knuckles, their sound piercing the silence in the room like a cannon. "Death and despair. That's what's going on in the world right now. Death and despair."

He starts motioning to the manilla envelope once again, and reluctantly you open it. It carries the signatures of fourteen other people, their looping names written in blood.

"It's a pact. A pact to set the world straight. You were one of the people picked from all around the world to help do that." He hands me a small Swiss knife. "Will you help us?"

You nod, and slowly, silently, you write your name in blood, finalizing the Contract.

What is this?

Spoiler

This is a storybook that is completely focused on the bad guys.

You will, in this storybook, explain how you got to where you were before the setting this storybook takes place in, which is an underground bunker that will be your training headquarters, getting you ready for sending the world into chaos.

Remember, you are the world's worst. You are the mass murderers, the gang lords, etc. who are now coming together to crumble the world's government.

The Plot

Spoiler

Set in a modern-day Earth setting, a secret organization called the Clutches of Earth's Life, or CEL for short that has been secretly pulling strings in major governments for the past century now has set their project into motion: Taking over the world.

Why does this involve you? You used to be filed away, planning to rot in the world's worst prisons, for the things you did to its inhabitants. Not anymore. CEL has released you, but only on a promise, set in blood. You will get to be free if you help them on taking over the world.

Character Slots

Spoiler

Alpha Team:
Female: Bethany McNeil - LadyPurple
Female: Katherine Abbasid - NPC
Male: Luke - VeerenVKS

Beta Team:
Male: Jacob Palski - Xaxas96
Male: Antonio Machiavelli - NPC
Female:Sasha Striker - janika


Theta Team:
Male: Jason Brown - FermentingFruit
Female: Vivian Sharp - DiskElemental
Female: Deandra Edge - NPC

Upsillon Team:
Male: Carter James - ShadowVyper
Male: Kaius Riley - Alvarin
Male: Marcus Smith - BlackNether12

Omega Team:
Female: Marcia Jaqueline Smith - AriaAdams
Female: Alexandra Monae - Aquestioning
Male: Johnny B. Goode - CowLogic

Ranks:

Admiral: Cross Yetonne - Aquestioning
General: Lydia Rose - LadyPurple
Major General: Dr. Nickolas Dee - AriaAdams
Lieutenant General: Reserve by PM
Brigadier General: Reserve by PM
Colonel: Janz Kamburg - BlackNether12
Lieutenant Colonel: Reserve by PM
Major: Reserve by PM
Captain: Reserve by PM
Lieutenant: Reserve by PM

Character Template

Spoiler

CodeSelect all

[b]Name: [/b]

[b]Gender: [/b]

[b]Age: [/b]

[b]Team: [/b]

[b]Appearance: [/b]

[b]Personality: [/b]

[b]Why s/he was put in prison: (Please be in depth)[/b]

[b]History: (Excluding prison)[/b]

[b]Favorite weapon: [/b]

[b]Humanity?: (Why could s/he be dissuaded to take over the world?)[/b]

[b]Other: [/b]

Ta-da! There's more spots?!?!?

CodeSelect all

[b]Name: [/b]

[b]Age: [/b]

[b]Gender: [/b]

[b]Rank: [/b]

[b]Appearance: [/b]

[b]Personality: [/b]

[b]History: [/b]

[b]How you came upon CEL: [/b]

[b]Trusty Sidearm: (Could be an animal or a weapon, anything as long as it's not magical)[/b]


[b]Other: [/b]

The DT Link

Spoiler

Please be frequent in the DT also.

viewtopic.php?f=200&t=97349

Rules (PLEASE READ)

Spoiler

Apart from usual YWS rules:

Put your character templates and all OOC (Out-Of-Character) discussion in the DT.

No petty arguing in the DT. If I see it, I will kick all who participated in the argument out of the SB. If you have a complaint, PM me.

I want you all to be willing and expected to be frequent in your posts.

This will be an invitation only SB, so if you want in and I did not invite you, then PM me.

I will be leniant in my plot, as in, you can make plot twist, just as long as they don't cripple the SB or the SB plotline.

In order to be sure that you read this, I want you to put, in spoilers above your character template, "I love ponies, but that does not make me a bronie." Weird? Yes. True? I have no clue, but I want you to put it anyway.

Other than that, have fun!

Checking in until I get my profile up.

I like it. I'm in. I'll have my profile up either today or tomorrow.

Cheeeeck.

Hm. This seems like my kind of thing.

Totally in.

And we are starting!

Spoiler

Just kidding! Happy April Fools' Day!

Name: Alexandra Monae

Gender: Female

Age: 19

Team: Omega

Appearance: She has sharp features, with a narrow nose, high cheekbones, hollow hazel eyes, and brunette hair that falls to the middle of her back. She is extremely skinny, but she has muscles. Her left arm is covered with a multitude of tattoos. She wears black high heels all the time, no matter what she is wearing. She stands around 5’7

Personality: She has one of those kind of personalities that doesn’t care about anyone else. She is a loner and will gladly tell you that to your face. She is very protective of other ladies and children, and she will kill you if you even touch a little girl wrong. She will follow someone, but that’s all she will do. She will not do any interaction to the leader, except to follow orders.

Why s/he was put in prison: (Please be in depth)Excluding her time as a child which will be put in history, she became an abusive parent, doing the same thing to her little girl that her mother did to her. One day, it was too much for her, and she killed her child, and went on killed her neighbors. Her boyfriend at the time, who was on a business trip, came back and found out, and she was arrested. She was found guilty, and was sentenced to life without parole. That’s when CEL stumbled upon her.

History: (Excluding prison)She was born unto a family of fake wealth and fame. Her father was a rapper, her mother an actress who died out long before she was born. Basically, both of her parents still had a lot of wealth between the two of their careers.
Her father was still a rapper when she was born, but he got mixed up in drugs after he realized that he was a father to a child that wasn’t even his. So, when she was five, he killed himself, overdosing on medicinal drugs.
Her mother blamed her for his death, and she became a rude, deeply isolated, and abusive mother to her child. Beatings would come spontaneously and viciously, with things like her mother beating her with a wire hanger, chaining her to a bed with iron chains, and placing hot coals on her back from the living room fireplace. This was just a small example of what happened.
When she was twelve, she was finally able to escape, after her mother became clumsy and didn’t chain her up properly. She, seeing no other way out, poisoned her mother with rat poisoning, and was thus sent on a huge investigation once they found the body. No one knew about the beatings, or if they did, they didn’t care, so they sent her to juvenile detention centers all around the country, each one worse than the last.
Finally, she was able to leave the detention centers on her 18th birthday. She became pregnant soon after that, and soon after that, became a single parent.

Favorite weapon: She likes knives, but don’t ever give her anything that can start a fire, she will kill you with it and burn the whole place down.

Humanity?: (Why could s/he be dissuaded to take over the world?)If she could get her daughter back, she would never do anything wrong again.

Other: She likes cats, but she will kill a dog if she sees one.

Name: Cross Yetonne

Age: 46

Gender: Male

Rank: Admiral

Appearance: He is Oriental, standing around 5’5 with a small, trimmed beard, almond-shaped brown eyes, and short black hair. He isn’t pudgy at all, and some might even go as far as to say that he is fit, but he is simply small and muscled in some places. He wears the official CEL uniform.

Personality: He is very manipulative, and there is possibly nowhere he cannot go. He is very commanding, and he doesn’t take anything from his followers. He is not one to stand by, but to take action, and he expects a lot from his followers. A deep depression rests inside him, for he just lost his father, but he does not let it fade him most of the time.

History: Born upon a family of leaders of the CEL, he visited many places of the world when he was a child, learning many different cultures, governments, histories, and fighting styles. He adapted quickly, and at the age of 13, he took his father’s place as the leader of the CEL, for his father became very sick from an incurable cancer. Thus began the major transition of CEL. Cross added many rankings and divisions within CEL, and he began to infiltrate some more minor governments, allowing him to gain an army made up of dozens of thousands. He also moved and destroyed CEL’s headquarters over twelve times until he finally found its current resting spot: An adaptation of a nuclear silo in the middle of the Sahara desert. Its spot is invisible to radar, has the lowest chance to be attacked in a nuclear fallout, and has enough room to expand to over the size of the United States without being detected.

How you came upon CEL: As I said above, he didn’t come across it as much as being born into it. With that being said, he is more than qualified to be in the position.

Trusty Sidearm: (Could be an animal or a weapon, anything as long as it's not magical)He keeps many things with him, most weapons of mass destruction, but his personal favorite is a katana, which he makes sure to keep behind his back so people can see his power.


Other: He has made many difficult decisions in the past, and has no problem of doing them again, even if it means killing himself.

Cross Yetonne

Spoiler

Now we are starting. Just a side note, I would like this SB to be in first person, but if third person is better for you, then by all means, use it. Have fun!

I paced the room, the overhead projector blinding my outline from the cadets in front of me. “You have been brought here by me and me alone. If you are unruly, then by all means, I will take you back to the rotting prison myself.” I look at them all. Each and every one of them has been in prison, waiting for the death sentence or rotting in there until the prison itself crumbles.

I look down upon the Alpha table. There were two women, one twitching her fingers and looking side to side, like she was waiting for something to attack her. The other was looking at me like I was a clown who had actually cracked up a decent joke. The third person at the table was a man, whose impression was one that could be switched for an 1800s photograph and still be counted as realistic. He was listening, though, so that was good news.

“I have released you from your living hell. Why? To make others worse than you all had it. My name is Director or Admiral Yetonne, and I am the leader of CEL. There is a reason I dragged you out of your miserable lives. I want you to bring humanity to its knees—“

“And how might we do that, Admiral Yeti?” A lady slouching in a chair at Omega table asked amusingly. A couple of people snickered.

“I will get to that later. Trust me, Alexandra, it will be done, with or without your help.” She cleared her throat and I could see a little red flooding into her ears. The other two at her table, a man and a woman, were listening intensely. “As I was saying, I want you to bring humanity to its knees, but in order for you to do that, you must get along.” A snort came from the girl on the Beta table.

“Working together? Honestly, what are you an admiral of? We’re the worst criminals stuck in the worst prisons all over the world, and you think we can work together? What kind of nut job are you?” She had eyes of a crazy woman, but her expression never changed, never faltered.

“I’m a nut job that has spies working in the highest places from all over the world. Michelle Obama? She’s a spy of CEL. That’s just one example of the power I have over this world. If I wanted to, I could kill us all with a push of a button. So don’t question me any further.” Her jaw tightened, but she said nothing more, so my speech became directed to the rest of them once again. “You will get along, or you will go back to prison. There are no ‘ifs, ands, or buts’ about it.”

The other two members of the Beta table, two men, were listening in consistently. It seems like most of these people were quiet, although there were a few hotrods.
I paused to look at Theta and Upsillon tables. The Upsillon table was a table with all guys, and Theta having two women and one male. They had the sense to not speak up, at least.

I passed manila folders out to each and every one of them. “These are your lifelines for the time you are in here. If you lose this, you lose your life. This is what calculates all you do, all you train, all you sh*t, everything. Inside on the first page of the tablet are your rooms. Each of you will be in the same room as your teammates. This is to ensure loyalty and trust between your teammates, for if you don’t trust the only people who will be going into the most dangerous parts in the world, then you will most certainly die.”

I turned my attention to the ranking officers in the room. “I will have a meeting with you all later on today about the new ranking system that will be put in place. Until then, you are all dismissed. I recommend that you find your rooms and rest up, for tomorrow, we’re beginning your psyche training.” They left silently, although some more than others.

Spoiler

Feel free to begin wherever you want, I will be posting my other character after a few of you post, or when someone from Omega posts. Let the fun begin.

On a side note, there will be major and unexpected plot twists that I will make, so make sure to pay close attention to my posts. People will die in this SB, so be warned, although I, nor anyone else, will kill off your character without your permission, unless I think that the situation demands it. Remember, make this as realistic as possible.

Spoiler

Hope you enjoy!! If you need me to censor the bad words, then I will.

We were all sitting in a conference room, with not a clue as to why we were here. One look around the room told me everyone in here had come from prison. I wonder what they went in for. The man before us paced, the projector behind him keeping his appearance nothing more than a sihlouette.

“You have been brought here by me and me alone. If you are unruly, then by all means, I will take you back to the rotting prison myself.” he looks at us all.

If he layed so much as a finger on me, I'd chop his hand off and watch him choke on it.

“I have released you from your living hell. Why? To make others worse than you all had it. My name is Director or Admiral Yetonne, and I am the leader of CEL. There is a reason I dragged you out of your miserable lives. I want you to bring humanity to its knees—“

“And how might we do that, Admiral Yeti?” A lady slouching in a chair at Omega table asked amusingly.

Sevral people snickered.

“I will get to that later. Trust me, Alexandra, it will be done, with or without your help. As I was saying, I want you to bring humanity to its knees, but in order for you to do that, you must get along.” A snort came from the girl on the Beta table.

“Working together? Honestly, what are you an admiral of? We’re the worst criminals stuck in the worst prisons all over the world, and you think we can work together? How many kinds of nut job do you have to be to think that would work ?” I spoke.

“I’m a nut job that has spies working in the highest places from all over the world. Michelle Obama? She’s a spy of CEL. That’s just one example of the power I have over this world. If I wanted to, I could kill us all with a push of a button. So don’t question me any further. You will get along, or you will go back to prison. There are no ‘ifs, ands, or buts’ about it.” he replied.

I didn't say anything to that. I honestly couldn't give a damn about any of this, but then again, at least I had something to do. My eyes never leave his.

The other two members of the Beta table, two men, were listening in consistently. It seems like most of these people were quiet, although there were a few hotrods.
I paused to look at Theta and Upsillon tables. The Upsillon table was a table with all guys, and Theta having two women and one male.

He passed manila folders out to each of us. “These are your lifelines for the time you are in here. If you lose this, you lose your life. This is what calculates all you do, all you train, all you sh*t, everything. Inside on the first page of the tablet are your rooms. Each of you will be in the same room as your teammates. This is to ensure loyalty and trust between your teammates, for if you don’t trust the only people who will be going into the most dangerous parts in the world, then you will most certainly die.”

he turned his attention to the ranking officers in the room. “I will have a meeting with you all later on today about the new ranking system that will be put in place. Until then, you are all dismissed. I recommend that you find your rooms and rest up, for tomorrow, we’re beginning your psyche training.”

We all stood up to take our leave, following one another out of the room. I looked at my other two team members as we reached our rooms and closed the door. We stood there staring at one another, not saying anything. Turning to the tall blonde, I hold my hand out. "Sasha."

He gave my hand a firm squeeze before letting go. "Jacob."

I did the same thing with the man standing off to my left. "Sasha."

He gave a small smile and shook my hand after clearing his throat. "Antonio."

"Alright then," I lean back against the wall to look at both of them. " here's what you need to know about me: One, I don't take shit form anyone, and if you don't take my word for it, then you'll find out soon enough. Two, I'll call you on yours if I think I need to. Three, I tell it like it is, if you hadn't noticed."

I smirk at that. "Four, I hate being touched. Never grab me, because I'll break your arm. It's nothing personal, just a natural reaction. Five, I'm a bitch and I know it, so get used to it. Got it?"

They both nodded without a word. "Good. Now here a few other things: As long as you have my back, I'll yours. Trust me and I'll trust you. Now, and questions?"

I sit back and stare at them both, never taking my eyes off of them. One thing I abosolutely coudn't stand is when people won't look me in the eye. I wanted to see if they would. If they couldn't look me in the eye, how was I supposed to respect them?

Jacob

I keep my face emotionless as our 'Directer' talks. Of course I listen to him, through everything not matter how boring.

“I have released you from your living hell. Why? To make others worse than you all had it. My name is Director or Admiral Yetonne, and I am the leader of CEL. There is a reason I dragged you out of your miserable lives. I want you to bring humanity to its knees—“

“And how might we do that, Admiral Yeti?” A lady slouching in a chair at Omega table asked amusingly. A couple of people snickered.

“I will get to that later. Trust me, Alexandra, it will be done, with or without your help.” She cleared her throat and I watched as her ears turned red. The other two at her table, a man and a woman, were listening intensely. “As I was saying, I want you to bring humanity to its knees, but in order for you to do that, you must get along.” A snort came from the girl on the Beta table.

“Working together? Honestly, what are you an admiral of? We’re the worst criminals stuck in the worst prisons all over the world, and you think we can work together? What kind of nut job are you?” She had eyes of a crazy woman, but her expression never changed, never faltered. I look at her intently, something about her intrigued me.

“I’m a nut job that has spies working in the highest places from all over the world. Michelle Obama? She’s a spy of CEL. That’s just one example of the power I have over this world. If I wanted to, I could kill us all with a push of a button. So don’t question me any further.” Her jaw tightened, but she said nothing more, so the Director's speech became directed to the rest of them once again. “You will get along, or you will go back to prison. There are no ‘ifs, ands, or buts’ about it.”

I look at our other partner, he seemed to be listening contently. It seems like most of these people were quiet, although there were a few hotrods. I look around at the other tables, wondering if any other would speak out.

The Director passed manila folders out to each and every one of us. “These are your lifelines for the time you are in here. If you lose this, you lose your life. This is what calculates all you do, all you train, all you sh*t, everything. Inside on the first page of the tablet are your rooms. Each of you will be in the same room as your teammates. This is to ensure loyalty and trust between your teammates, for if you don’t trust the only people who will be going into the most dangerous parts in the world, then you will most certainly die.” He then said something to the officers, and we were to leave.

When we made it to our room the girl turned and held her hand out to me "Sasha"

I take her hand, give it a gentle squeeze. "Jacob"

She turn to the other boy "Sasha"

He gave a small smile and shook my hand after clearing his throat. "Antonio."

And she said some rules. Which I simplify to, she doesn't take shit I could test her on that, she'll call me out if she believes she needs to, tells things as they are, she was a bitch, and she hates being touched, she will try to break the persons arm. Shall we test that? I smile at my thought, and nod at her.

"Good. Now here a few other things: As long as you have my back, I'll yours. Trust me and I'll trust you. Now, and questions?"

She sit back and stare at us both, never taking her eyes off of us. I get the feeling she's testing us, so I look back into her eyes. Her white eyes stood out to him, they made her look more beautiful. I have but one question, will you please be my girlfriend? Of course I give a small smile and say "No questions Ms. Sasha." As I walk towards the beds, I stop and turn back to them. "Actually one question, which bed would you prefer?" I say gesturing towards the beds. After she chooses hers, I slide into mine. It's been quite a long day, and I was tired. I get a little comfortable, but I was unable to fall asleep. So I just lie there think about how I got out.

~
I sat there in a nice room, hand cuffed together, feet chained to the desk that was screwed to the floor. I was told someone came to see me, but I thought it was just another interrogation. A guy walks in with two others in the room and I smiled at him, he didn't return it.

"Mr. Palski, you know what is happening in the world right?" He questioned, I look at him with a why should I care look. Before I answered he continued, "Well I'm selecting a few from around the world to stop what is happening to the world. I have selected you as one of these candidates."

"So, I get out of here to work for you? Like right now." I ask and he nods, placing a folder on the desk. "I see, so I have to sign a contract. Pen please." I say opening the folder swiftly, their were only a few names on it. Something stuck out, the were in a crimson red that I recognize as blood. "Oh never mind, I got it." I cut my finger on the corner of the desk. When I finished my signature looks elegant, at least better then most. I look up to see the man with a swiss army knife. "Why didn't you just set that down with the folder." I say sarcastically. "If I may I'd like to ask you to gather some of my personal items I've taken the time to hide. Paper and pen please." One of the other men place a piece of paper and a pen on the table. I write down very detailed directions of how to find the items. "Don't touch anything I have not wrote here. If you do dispose of what is found."

Bethany.
Who could take this Guy seriously? He was a joke trying to be scary.
“These are your lifelines for the time you are in here. If you lose this, you lose your life. This is what calculates all you do, all you train, all you sh*t, everything.
Oooh, somebody’s playing Mr. Tough. I thought as I tapped my fingers beside the manila folder before me.
Inside on the first page of the tablet are your rooms. Each of you will be in the same room as your teammates. This is to ensure loyalty and trust between your teammates, for if you don’t trust the only people who will be going into the most dangerous parts in the world, then you will most certainly die.”
These people? I peeked over at the woman next to me. She was twitching something fierce. She caught my eyes and scowled. I rolled my eyes and looked at the man by me. He seemed in more stable condition. Physically anyway. For all I knew he was a crazed murderer. I almost laughed at the irony.
After listening to Mr. Ego jabber on some more I found the room I would be staying in. I opened the door and found the woman who scowled at me standing over something on one of the beds. I cleared my throat for attention and she spun around, fear in her eyes. She looked me up and down and scowled again.
“I guess we’re roommates,” I said. She turned without a word and stared down at whatever was on the bed. I shrugged and sat on the bed in the corner.
Then the man from earlier walked in. He didn’t speak to either of us, probably just as wary.
So...we’re all going to be silent? I thought. Oh, how much fun this would be.
I thought back to how I got here in the first place. Back to my nasty old cell with the rude guards. Mr. Ego got me in a room with just me and him. I was suspicious. What kind of strings did he pull to manage a room alone with me? I was the "Black Widow" of South Carolina. The name that terrified many only because of the media hype.
He was saying something but I was too preoccupied by my thoughts. I probably should have been paying more attention because I almost screamed when he pulled out a swiss army knife.
"What the hell?" I shouted.
"It'll be ok, Bethany."
I don't know about you, but I didn't quite believe that. Then he produced a manila folder and handed it to me along with the army knife. He explained what I should do with the knife. I should have stabbed him and ran. He was insane.
"You know what's happening in the world, don't you?" I shrugged, not wanting to answer. I knew it was going to shit. What else was knew?
"Death and despair. That's what's going on in the world right now. Death and despair." He leaned towards me, staring into my eyes. Was he trying to scare me?
"Open it," he instructed. I did and gazed down at the dark signatures. These weren't in blood. They couldn't be! Then I looked closely at the knife and gulped. It had to be...
"It's a pact. A pact to set the world straight. You were one of the people picked from all around the world to help do that. Will you help us?"
I wondered for a moment if I would be crazy enough to believe this guy. Then I thought about it. I would get power. And with power comes cash. Lots of it. Who cares who I stepped on to get it.
I pricked my finger and added my name.




If you want me to censor then I will!

Marcus Smith

Spoiler

[I hope he works! Sorry for changing his name - that wasn't officially done. Enjoy!]

"Marcus?"
The soft call echoed down the dark hallway. A hallway dark and damp, deep underground. It's one dim phosphorescent light showed cell door after cell door stretching away into darkness.
Inside one of the bare, cement cells a figure on a cot stirred slightly, looking sleepily up about the room. His long black hair fell about his face in wavy, oily locks, his skin was sagging and pale, his arms and legs were thin, but his eyes still had a burning light in them. An angry light.
He sat up." Mike?"
"Marcus!" Came the urgent voice from the hallway, no, not from the hallway, but the adjacent cell." Come to the door!"
Marcus sighed and stood, this he was tired of the little bits and pieces of pointless information his unseen, longtime friend Michael Jensen kept handing too him. Rubbing his eyes he leaned against the cell door's bars." What is it this time?" He grumbled, shifting to keep the cold bars from freezing to his damp skin.
"A man's coming to visit you!" The voice was young and strong, not yet brought down by years in this dark prison." He wants to talk to you!"
Marcus shook his head, his skin tingling. He had been in this hell-hole for six years, and not a single word from the outside world (Other than from Michael) had reached him. And now he had a visit. . . .
"How'd you find out?" He queried his unseen friend.
"I was coming back from the gym and passed the captain, he was arranging it with him." Mike replied. Mike wasn't a bad guy, he'd cheated the government and had 20 years on his head for it, but he was allowed to go to the gym, rec room, and other prison facilities. Facilities that the 'captain' who was in charge, would rather die than allow Marcus to use. Indeed, he might actually die if he did.
No . . .
Marcus hadn't always been like this, even when he was sent to prison he wasn't. Then he had only hated a select group of men, now he simply despised all of humanity. Well, all, with the possible exception of Mike.
He didn't respond to his friend's news, instead he went back to his cot and laid back down. He had long ago given up trying to guess the time, for all he knew it could be midnight or midday.

Scarcely half an hour later two of the guards came down, unlocked Marcus' cage, and grabbing him, hauled him out, guns pressed firmly against his back. Cursing, he was forced up the hallway, down a flight of stairs, and into a room.
He was forced into a chair in front of a table.
He looked around and frowned. A light was shining from a lamp, straight into his eyes, hiding the man behind it's face.
He knew well enough to keep his mouth shut. Otherwise he might get smashed over the head by the butt of a rifle from one of the two guards standing behind him.
The man across from him tossed a package onto the table between them." I hear good things about you Mr. Smith. I hear that your . . . skills, might be helpful to me." The voice was deep and firm." Read it."
Marcus reached across the table and snatched up the envelope. As he read his, eyes widened, at the end he saw a list of names written in a red ink that looked suspiciously like blood. He stared up at the unseen man opposite him, not saying anything, the amazement obvious on his face.
The man leaned forward and held out a small Swiss Army knife." Will you agree with the terms? Will you commit?"
Almost against his will, his hand reached out and took the knife.
There was a slight pain in his finger and then it was over.

Now Marcus sat, watching the short bearded man pace crisply back and forth in front of him, lecturing him and the other men and woman facing him.
He could see the scorn on the other's faces, but he didn't share it. He knew a commander when he saw one, and every aspect of Cross Yetonne demanded respect and obedience. He could see the scorn and annoyance on his face as they interrupted him. . . .
If anyone was planning a quest for world domination, it was this man, Marcus thought to himself. He could hear one of the women's reply to his order that they would have to get along. He knew that this man probably wouldn't be kicking any of them out, he could make them obey without doing that! But he was certain that they were all too carefully selected to be simply disposed of however.

Marcus tried to ignore the men as he left the room, glancing at the row of officers off to the side. He waited outside as the others left, and as Yetonne left the room he stepped out of the shadows and stood to attention, deciding that was the best thing to do." Sir! I have a request!"
Yetonne raised an eyebrow." Yes? Make it quick!"
"I have a friend in prison #342,"Marcus replied crisply," I would deeply appreciate it if he could be gotten out!"
Yetonne sneered at him." Emotion! Care! Friendship! Weakness I tell you! Get these thoughts out of your head and get real!" He turned to leave, but Marcus stopped him.
"Sir!" He growled." I am still human! I would neglect those to whom I owe a debt! This man would be quite useful if you could get his name cleared, he had a high position at the CIA and most likely knows things that would be useful to you! He would also know when to keep his mouth shut! AND! Should he be put back into his old position you would have a valuable spy!"
Yetonne looked him over curtly, then turning growled." I'll see into it! But no promises!" He stalked away.

Spoiler

[Thar we go!]

Ah, thanks for reminding Black, guys, make sure to make a prologue bit about how I got you out of your cell and stuff like that.

Carter James

My life line. Yeah. I tossed the folder on the top bunk and hefted myself onto the blanket beside it, rolling across it, and settling on my side.

"What makes you think you get the top bunk?"

I glanced down at the other two boys on my team. I couldn't tell which one'd talked-- I thought it was the shorter one. I scoffed. "'Cause I do, shrimp. Grow a few inches, then we'll talk."

"I have grown up, asshole." The bigger boy said.

I glanced at the taller of the two-- a boy who looked about thirty, but built about like me, though with black hair. Huh, guess it wasn't the shrimp "Sure. Let's talk."

He stepped forward, and I moved my gaze back to his face. "We ain't gonna get along too well, you keep acting like a prick."

"Huh...takes one to know one."

The boy grabbed my ankle. In a busted him in the face with my other leg, and rolled out of the bunk, landing on top of him. I grabbed the front of his shirt, driving my knees into his gut, and hit him in the face several times before I was thrown off.

I rolled to my feet, staggering to the side as the boy hit me with a surprisingly ferocious left. I threw my fist into him, knocking him into the brick wall. He tripped over his own feet and fell down. I dove towards him, not giving him a fair fight.

We rolled over and over, punching each other, until we fought our way up to our knees, still clawing at each other. I finally manged to roll on top of him. I pressed my knee into the boy's throat, pulling his hair, watching as his face flushed red, his eyes bulging.

"That's enough!" Someone bellowed.

I only vaguely heard it-- my mind was occupied with other things. I was thrown off, and the other boy leapt on top of me. I quickly rolled back on top.

"I said, that's enough!" A loud voice boomed beside us, knocking me off the boy with a hard blow.

I struggled to my hands and knees, gasping, choking. The moment I thought I could stand, I struggled to my feet, and started forward. I struggled to stop, managing it mere inches before I would've crashed into the Director.

He was standing with his arms crossed, imposing, even if he only came to my chest. I stepped back, defensively, ready for an attack.

"Mr. James, I'm not sure what you think the proper way to conduct yourself is-- but I can assure you, this is not it."

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but a trickle of warm blood touched my lip before I could speak. I wiped my lip with the back of my hand, and pulled my hand away, looking at the blood disgustedly.

"That goes for all of you. I will not tolerate fighting--especially not between team members." The Director turned, glancing at the other two-- at the shrimp, picking himself out of the floor; at Marcus, still lying on the ground, holding his throat and gasping.

"I suggest you all go to bed...immediately." He walked toward the door confidently, never glancing back at us.

I glanced at the shrimp, then back at the Director's back. I hauled myself up into the top bunk, pushing my folder under the mattress so I wouldn't bleed on it, and reached into my open bag, pulling out a clean hankie.

Johnny B. Goode

I strutted over to the Admiral in my character limp and stuck out my hand in a friendly-like manner. He stared at me, immediate recognition on his face. “Hello again, Mr. Donahue.”

“Mr. Goode, if you would sir. Since we’re friends, you can call me Johnny.” I flashed my award winning smile, my rotting teeth more cute even than my unshaved, broad chin. “I’d like to thank you for getting the chain off my leg, if you know what I mean, sir. I’d a’ been in that cell for my life with no chance of parole, as you well know. But now I’ve got a different kind of CEL. Heh, you get me, right?”

The snotty bristardo shot me another puzzled gaze, obviously wondering what my deal was. I would oblige him of course. Cause that’s my way.

=

Figures that the attractive peers that inhabited this organization like the sunglasses girl and Ms. Pale were not my cohorts in these co-ed sleeping conditions. Rather, I was teamed up with two girls that were more than ten years younger than me, each. And, as you can probably guess, my male instinct ain’t like that. Whatever though, plenty of time for sweet romance when I blow this joint sooner or later. First opening I get I’m leaving these suckers behind and beating the egg in my shoe.

The older girl, who I heard the Admiral call Alejandra or something met my greeting with silence and contempt in her starry gaze, although I could tell she wouldn’t be too hard to soften up. I’m a pretty charismatic guy. It’s weird how you can make friends with just about anybody with a neglect of personal grooming and some good old backwoods charm.

In fact, I didn’t make an enemy till I was twelve, and he didn’t live too much longer after that one. I had the proof of that run-in in my patterned guitar case, the very one that was brought to my dorm room. The very one that had its red leather pattern embroidered with a splash mark of the same color, just a little off. The other case was absent of course, and I guess I should’ve known that they wouldn’t let me carry my personal arsenal around with my minstrel equipment.

The other girl was maybe thirteen or fourteen. I’m bad with numbers, and years at that, so don’t try to put that on the record. When I extended my arm of greeting to the chil’ she actually responded with a sweet, “Hello. I’m Jack.”

“And I’m Johnny. They call me that on account of my greatest weapon right there,” I said as I pointed at the guitar. “Yesiree. They call me that since the first time I played ‘em the song of my namesake.” My face adopted a patriotic stance, exuding in nostalgia. “You may notice that while I am in fact quite the Potato, I ain’t got the loll of the toungue. Well, you see, that got written out of my family, I’d say about a hundred years ago. Maybe more.”

The girl just stared at me blankly, apparantly mesmerized by my homely accent. “Jack, my young friend, we have been given the chance to do something great here, I can tell. What made you to be part of this, young lady?” She seemed to not want to answer this question, only expressing a somewhat sick smile. “Well, I tell you mine if we gotta trust one another, piss in the same bowl and all that. I rob banks. And I’m damn good at it too, in my humble opinion. Of course, that ain’t all of it-”

“Will you shut up already?” Alecunda said sharply. “If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I don’t like people. And when people remind me of things, I tend to recreate the past. So please, don’t make me.”

My smile never faltered. “And what would that entail, ma’am?”

“Well,” she said, now looking at the little girl. “I’ve been known to take care of people. Even kids.” Seeing that this threat had no effect on Jackie, she turned to me again. “You ever killed, son?”

I merely smiled wider and didn’t oblige her with the angry “Of course I have!” huff she expected. “No ma’ma, can’t say I have taken a life in mine. Just wouldn’t be right.” My eyes flickered to my left, at the fluid stained guitar case I had pried from the cold, dead hands of that poor bum who has called me out fifteen odd years ago. I decided that time for fraternization was over, as no one was saying anything, so I climbed onto my bunk, one of four in a room that housed three, stuck a cigarette in my mouth, tipped my hat over my eyes and lit up my Bic. But rather than bringing the flame to my mouth, I only stared at it, going back to a time that seemed like so short ago, the time that gave me freedom.

=

I was seated at a metal desk in prison orange, which was uncomfortably clean and uncomfortably high-class for my liking, and thus felt a little exposed when the admiral took a seat in front of me. “Patrick Donahue.” He said, glancing down at a folder, by which he had also placed a pack of cigarettes.

“Mr. Goode, if you don’t mind.”

He continued, pulling out a contract of some breed. And pushing it over to me. “Freedom, when you sign. No questions asked.”

He was speakin’ my language now. “Freedom, huh?” I looked at the sheet. There were already names written on it, in red ink. “Do I need to know what I am signing for?”

“I guess it depends on the extent that you value your freedom, Mr. Donahue.”

“Please, call me Johnny.” I looked at the sheet again. “So, hypothetically, if my recompense for getting out of this joint ain’t what I promise it to be, what would be the consequences? Hypothetically?”

“Well,” he said, “I just happen to know some people who would gladly snare a man, any man, no matter how slippery, no matter how much he struggles or bites or how fast he runs, or grabs onto a train car. And these people that I know will not hesitate to throw this man, kicking and screaming, into the dingiest, darkest, solitary confinement cell they can find, for good. Hypothetically, of course.”

I looked around humorously, although my throat just became somewhat dry. “Well, with what instrument can I sign the damn thing? Let’s not keep freedom waiting!”

He merely slid a one them Red and White Cross knives over to me, its little blade unfolded. “What?” I asked, eying the little multi-tool. “No pens allowed?” I peeled a cig from the little box of them and stuck it in my mouth.

The military man extended his hand, and in it was clutched a flaming Bic lighter, he brought it to my mouth, lighting me up.

“Believe me,” said the man, “to us, blood means everything.”

=

And now I was back to before my nice nap in this far-from-Spartan hotel room I was just leased by the Anti-Feds, when I greeted the Admiral once again after his little meeting.

My compadre was looking at me funny, waiting for me to get my point. I would oblige his concerns as best I could.

“You know admiral, with the freedom that this CEL cell, heh, has given me and all these other scumbags of nature, you ought to be watching that back of yours for desertion or worse.” I let go of his hand, pocketing the small brass button I had ripped from his sleeve.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Mr. Donahue.”

“Come on, sir. Call me Johnny. Anyway, I just think there is always the… possibility for disruption of your plans.”

His eyes narrowed. “What kind of disruption are we talking about here? Hypothetically?”

My eyes widened in mock surprise. “I didn’t know we were having a test today, sir. But hypothetically, let’s see… Well, see I just happen to know a guy. A guy who would have no problem turning on a man, no matter how much their relationship has benefited him, no matter how good or bad of a man the guy is, no matter how much freedom he has endowed upon him. And this guy that I know, would have not have a second’s hesitation to yank up their trousers, pull out their firearm, shove it to the head of this man and perform the action that the device was meant to carry out, at the first chance he gets. Hypothetically, this is what I mean.”

The old guy looked a little dumbstruck at my frank and amiable voice through all of this and stared incredulously at my hand, which was now by my side, as the other gripped my manila folder, smearing the paper with grease. “Ah,” I laughed as I held my finger up the to the light, displaying a recently healed scar left by the blade of a little utility knife not long ago. “Yeah.”

I saw he was again starin’ me in the eyes. “Believe me, sir,” I said, my voice lowering and becoming even more accent laden, “to me, blood means nothing.”

His eyes were priceless as I sauntered away, carrying nothing but the clothes on my back and the folder.