The Great Forumshire Story

Contd...

The two towers of the basillica dominated the area. Even though she had
seen works much older, Nora still gazed in awe at the intricate detail that adorned the walls and towers or the 120 year old building. Its neogothic design were at great odds to the vibrancy and colour of neighbourhoods she had passed through on the journey to the city centre.

As the two of them walked inside the large, arched doorway, her jaw dropped as the caverous interior revealed itself. Huge amounts of stone work held up a great, arched room complemented by rows of stained glass high up and along the length of the building. The light passing through gave the entire hall a strong orange glow.

'Make like a tourist and take the room in,' said Amarie who had seen the cathedral many times. 'Pay special attention to the guy in the corner to your right. But dont make it look like you are paying him special attention.'

'I've done this before you know,' replied Agent Nora as she noticed a rather large man wearing what seemed like a very expensive suit standing in the corner. 'Is that Orwell?'

'No. That is one of his guys,' said Amarie, doing her best to look ad touritsy as she could. 'Follow me.'

They both walked along the middle of the hallway between the various rows of heavy wooden benches. People were dotted here and there, some taking in the sights of the Basillica, others offering their prayers.

Amarie slid in to one of the rows and sat down.

'6 rows in front of us on the left,' she said, her head buried in a copy of the old testament that she had found in front of her

Agent Nora looked in the direction instructed and there in the pews were three men. Two were dressed in suits identical to the man near the entrance to the building. The third was dressed much more simply. A pair of jeans and a white, untucked shirt clothed a rather lean, but strong looking man. What was most striking, however, were the tattoos strewn along his arms and neck. From this distance, they all blended in to a single, tangled, tortured mess. If they had any personal significance to him, it was not apparent.

'Well, we wont lose him in a crowd.'

'Nora, dont stare.'

She hadnt noticed, however she had become transfixed with the tattoos and what they could possibly be. Her long gaze had attracted some attention from a previously unseen, suited man toward the front of the hall. A series of looks resulted in several things. Firstly, two robed figures, presumably people of the church, hurried themselves to a small wooden door and disappeared. Next, all of the suited men spread themselves out across the hallway and stood silently. Last of all, the man they had identified as Orwell replaced the book he had been reading, presumably a copy of the bible, turned and headed directly toward them.

'Good afternoon young ladies. I hope you are enjoying the wonders of the Basillica?'

Nora had expected Orwells voice to have commanded some power. He had a reputation across the underworld that immediately demanded respect, yet his voice was soft. In fact it was very creepy and sent a shiver down her spine.

'Yes thank you, this is a beautiful building,' she replied. Amarie seemed to have lost her voice and stood there smiling.

'Started in 1892 but not consecrated until over a 100 years later. Not old by your European standards of course but quite an achievement here in the Americas.'

Amarie still did not reply. The colour in her face had started to drain, something it seemed Orwell had also noticed.

'Interesting to know,' said Nora. I think we are going to have more of a look around.'

'Be sure to take a trip to the top of the towers, the view is amazing. But just to warn you, there are some areas that are off limits to the public and you can get yourselves in a lot of trouble if you go looking.'

Nora was very aware that Orwell did not mean it as a friendly warning. Amarie was as good as useless at this point. In fact it was now making Nora nervous herself. While she fancied her chances against a couple of them, 5 would be too much to ask without some help.

'I will make sure we keep our noses where they dont belong. Thank you.'

Orwell nodded and smiled, but took and uncomfortably long look at Amarie before turning away.

'Good evening ladies,' he said as he walked towards the front entrance, the suited men following him.

Amarie fell on to the bench below her, dropping her head in to her hands. Nora was now quite angry. If Amarie couldnt hold herself together, she was useless as a partner.

'Amarie, we really need to talk.'

oooooooooooooo,  

  great stuff, moar.

I love that Orwell character. Has quite an impact on the ladies, what!  

ooooh.....

I'm glad this is still continuing! The tale grows curioser and curioser; I can't wait to see more.

Orwell wrote:I love that Orwell character. Has quite an impact on the ladies, what!  

Maybe you'll finally get some respect in a story!

Dun dun DUNNNN!!!!!!! Love the suspense lance!

Azriel... not quite sure if your last post is positive or not....?

The word had appeared at least 50 times before, but nothing seemed to connect the dots. The blade found embedded in the back of a young Russian oil tycoon had been engraved with it. Communications intercepted by GCHQ, the CIA, Mossad and intelligence agencies across Europe and Asia had contained it. The black box retrieved by Nora had used it as an encryption key.

AZRIEL

Agent Eldorion had explored every avenue he knew. He had been down to the archives and searched with Agent Elthir. He had liaised with some of the top field agents in the world who had connections in various underworld movements.  One of the Banks clan in North Africa, Agent 63 in North America, Agent Li Lee in East Asia. All had heard of the word but always in the shadows. Even in the world of the hardcore criminal it wasn't common knowledge.

The only thing he knew is that where the word turned up, people died. And normally people with either money, power or both.

He put on his headset and tried to call Agent Figg once more. She was supposed to have checked in hours ago but seemed to have disappeared.

He hoped she was okay.

Again, there was no answer. He would need to report it to his superior soon. 2 hours late would result in the nearest assests being sent for recon. 24 hours late would result in all connections being cut. After that, the Ageny was no longer an Agent. They had no official name and no official nationality. Their captor could do as they wished.

Oh yes Lance ! my post WAS positive ! This is great, excitement is building, Watch out Jason Bourne..we've got..........LANCE BLOKE

 

wait.. what? no.. figgy D:

Pettytyrant101 wrote:and Guilty as Charged even if he's Innocent- Orwell

I have noticed that.

Have you read the story yet Ally and read it in context? Its about three lines out of about 10 pages of writing.

So I am currently drinking wine in Vienna. Or in Fjordian: Drikker vin i Wien. Nutty languages.

Anyhow, I did what Petty suggested a few days ago and didn't have time to reply then. It's far too true to force a smile from me, more like a lip quiver really. It was a sad truth way back when and it's a sad truth now. But I know that if I tried to be perfect I truly never would be happy. I think I realized it's part of the reason I can't see myself having a traditional wedding, all the must-diet-to-look-perfect-and-what-if-I-look-fat-on-the-pictures-bla-bla and fuck that! Neither me or Finrod are too keen on speeches and stuff either, and I'd be crying through the whole thing cause I am SO sappy! Nope, if ever, it's going to be something small and far away if and us. Damn our stupid insecurities!  

Um... what was I here for? Oh, the story! Let's see...

Well that Amarie chick seems handy to have around in case of trouble!

Yes... and I hope Orwell get's as close as he can to her.

I did what Petty suggested a few days ago and didn't have time to reply then. It's far too true to force a smile from me, more like a lip quiver really.- Amarie

I'll take a lip quiver as a win any day!

Well now I am laughing.  I did mean lip quiver as in closer to a sob than a laugh, you big bully.

Upsetting the gentler sex again, Petty? You are insufferable!  


{{{I think I'll have to Mentor you on talking to the Ladies, Petty. As you clearly have no idea how to pay them proper respect. }}}

{{{{Well I have to pay them its not for me at all!  }}}}

stop Norcing you lot.  I want more of Lances story.  

Oh Figgy... not sure you do want the next installment.

l

Yes she does !  

  uh-oh sounds scary.

Agent Figg sat in a small bar across the street from her hotel listening to the chimes of the resident piano player that sat behind an old piano in the corner of the room. Her encounter with Tyrant had thrown up a multitude of feelings. Firstly, the intrigue and attraction she had felt towards him the first time they had met a year ago had resurfaced. Maybe it was the fact he was a lost soul that needed saving or maybe it was the opposite and the danger attracted her.

The second thing was this new girl, CC. Not just the question of who she was, but also how she had such sway of Tyrant. His whole persona changed the second he heard her voice. Was he afraid of her? Were they together?

Either way, the bottom of her cocktail glass seemed to have provided no answer. Her next, and probably more reliable bet, would be Eldorion and the resources of the agency. She was already an hour overdue for checking in.

The dull murmur of the bar's patrons faded as she made her way along the road. On the opposite side, further down the street a car stopped outside the hotel and was quickly attended to by a member of staff.

As she walked, she suddenly felt and intense, constricting pain around her throat. Instinctively she reached up to her neck, trying to identify the cause of the pain. As she attempted to take a deep breath in, the force tugged her off of the road and in to a dark, narrow alley that ran between the roads.

She attempted to take another breath as the pain spread from her neck and in to her temples. Her eyes began to stream, feeling like they were being squeezed out of her head. Still exploring with her hands, Agent Figg felt the cause of the pain. A thin, plastic wire seemed wrapped around her, choking the air from her lungs.

The already dark evening began to fade. The only real sound she could hear was the hard pumping of her heart as the blood pressure peaked in her head.

But as quickly as the pain had come, it disappeared. Agent Figg collapsed to the ground as the cool evening air rushed back in to her lungs. It was a few seconds before she was able to stop coughing and regain her senses.

'I like to play with my toys before I get rid of them.'

The voice she could hear was a familiar one. Agent Figg turned around to see a familiar face.

'CC? '

Her question was met with a hard boot to the face.

'Don't insult me bitch,' she shouted back. 'You think you know me from 3 lines of conversation?'

Agent Figg wiped the blood that had started dripping from her lip. Her head was still a little fuzzy and this added to the confusion.

'I didnt say I knew you, buy you did tell me your name was CC.'

Figg hit the floor for a third time as another kick was aimed at her, this time crashing in to a rib.

'My name is Ally you little whore.'

CC, Ally or someone else, Figg had become tired of getting sucker punched and being the one on the floor. The next time she would be ready.

'Are you crazy,' she said, looking to provoke a response. 'Or are you just a lying coward?'

The desired response was duly given.

'So you do think you know me bitch,' she shouted throwing her leg with as much force as she could muster. This time, Figg simply helped the kicking leg it in its direction. As Ally slightly lost her balance Figg planted her knuckles in to the back of her standing leg.

They both managed to get to their feet at about the same time. Ageny Figg had undergone years of combat training and was ready when her assailant attacked again. A quick flex of her leg muscle placed her hip to hip with Ally, a small roll converting all of the force of her attack toward to alley wall.

Ally stood up once more and tried again. She was surprisingly flexible and had obviously undergone so kind of training herself. She was, however, not in control of her emotions.

A stiff fist split Figgs lip again, sending blood up her face. She replied with a solid one of her own.

A solid knee impacted her rib in the same spot Ally had hit earlier. Again, she replied in kind with an elbow.

Finally, Ally made a big wrong move. An over ambitious right hook missed its target and sent her off balance. Agent Figg took advantage and quickly had her arms tightly locked around Ally's neck.

Both of the fell to the floor, Figg with her back to the concrete and Ally firmly in her grip. She wrapped her legs around Ally's torso and squeezed.

But this is were she made a mistake of her own. With her free arm, Ally had managed to find a small piece of metal on the floor next to her.

Agent Figg let out a scream as it entered her right thigh, penetrating deep in to the flesh. With her mind on the wound, she let go of her adversary who quickly jumped to her feet.

'Enough of this shit,' she screamed. 'Play time is over.'

Ally reached down in to her boot and pulled out a small pistol aiming it at Agent Figgs head. There was nothing she could do. Most of her body had begun to give up with the introduction of a foreign, metal object.

instead, she laid her head against the ground and closed her eyes. She hoped Nora had had better luck.

The alley rang as the sound of a gunshot echoed between its narrow walls.