The Red Dream of a Calamity Disappears over Eastern Europe [Romania]

November 11 was silent for those parts of the plane trip that he wasn't on the phone. After a full day on the plane, they finally landed in Bucharest. Outside the airport, a limousine was waiting for them outside. The four agents climbed inside and began their long journey to Targoviste, where Havoc waited for them.

Once again, November 11 was back on the phone.

"Isn't it a little late to raise the price? ... I can't add any more than 30,000 euros to that. ... Very well, we have a deal." He hung up the phone before the dealer could argue anymore. "Looks like we can afford Havoc. In exchange for the money, he'll give us the address to the safehouse she's being kept in. The only catch is, I have to come alone." He reached under his seat and slid out a small drawer filled with earpieces. "Of course, that's not to say I'm not going to have backup."

He distributed the earpieces to the other three agents. "If I get in trouble, I expect you guys to save my ass," he said with a smirk.

"Understood. Are there any codewords you'll be using if the situation gets dicey, or would you rather have us hiding from a vantage point?"

"Well, I doubt he's going to be alone. When you hear me killing people, that will be your signal." He let that sink in for a moment. "I'm joking. One of you can take a vantage point, at least. The others can be prepared to move in in case things go downhill."

September pulled out a small leather bound notebook and a ball point pen from his jacket pocket and took a few notes while November 11th was speaking. Writing in that notebook was something he did quite often, even while he blindfolded himself on the plane he wrote in that notebook. He seemed unimpressed by the first statement. He thought it logical that the sounds of death would be their signal. Surprise crossed his features when November 11th said he was joking but he nodded in agreement to the second proposal. “I will find a satisfactory vantage point and single you two if anything goes wrong.”

"Well, it seems like a pretty good signal to me, in any case." January replied to September with a chuckle. He had sat close to March, but was watching September more closely. After the man decided to put himself in the vantage point he watched him write quietly for awhile before saying. " You certainly are a quiet one. What are you writing about?" He leaned forward to peek at the notebook.

September paused in his writing and looked up at January as he leaned over. “I keep a record of experiments, orders, experiences, things I find interesting or odd,” he said as he handed the notebook to January. What you see on the page looks to be some sort of gibberish English with odd symbols thrown in here and there. “It is in code of course.”

January eagerly took the notebook and got out a purple pen. "That was a lot easier than I thought it would be," he commented brightly. As he went about solving the code he commented, "So you must be pretty stealthy to put yourself in the middle of the action like that." as he said that he got up and sat next to September instead, removing his gloves, folding them neatly, and putting them in his pocket. He then continued to mark over the notebook in purple pen, finding the most common letters and laying them out in the margin.

September sat back and flashed a small smile as he watched January mark up the notebook, “It’s more of an experiment really, a test of my skill. I’ve rarely had to hide. The challenge will be, at the very least, entertaining.”

"Well, I appreciate your enthusiasm for experiments, but I think it would really be better if one of us tried it, perhaps. Considering the danger of the mission. Drug lords can be quite volatile without such a heavy transaction." He looked over at the man and cocked his head to the side, peering at him. "Um, you have a hair out of place." He said twitching a little. "May I?"

Before he could answer January ran his hands through September's hair and over his scalp, activating his contractor powers. His eyes glowing blue and a blue aura surrounding his body. He didn't want much, only to break the code. He stole his last twenty years of memories until he found the code. He easliy forgot most of it, returning them quickly back to September.

((GM POST))

Thomas
Having trained himself in the use of memories, the process was rather simple to him. It felt like no more than suddenly remembering a flood of information as it entered his mind, a full twenty years of life. However, he focused intently on everything having solely to do with the code in the notebook. Just like he had practiced, he willingly forced the rest out of his mind. As soon as that was done, it fled from him forever.

Ori
When Thomas' power was activated, a wave of amnesia washed over him. For some reason, he couldn't remember anything from his last twenty years, and he didn't even know where he was, what he was doing, or who these people were. Within a few seconds though, dizzyingly, the memories came flooding back. All but a select few. When he looked down at his notebook, he knew what the notes should say, but nothing about the code on the pages made any sense to him.

Septembers face went completely emotionless as if stone for a moment. An aura of blue surrounded him as he activated his power. A street lamp went out to the right of them. He pointed his palm towards the notebook and the pages lit on fire destroying what he had written.

((GM)) Remuneration: Blindfold yourself for ten minutes.

January's eyes widened in surprise and he threw the notebook onto the floor of the vehicle, stomping it out. He moved over to sit next to March again. "Well that's okay. I still know what the code means." He smiled brightly at the September and pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his backpack. He had to rub it over his hands quite a few times. By the time he was done the bottle was empty and his hands were red from all the rubbing. He hated touching people's hair. He put on another pair of gloves and got out his own notebook to record the code. He had intended to give him the memory back as soon as he was done, but since the guy was going to be an ass about it, he was going to keep ahold of it for awhile. After he put the notebook away he pulled out a plain covered and frayed book and began to read 'The Walrus and the Carpenter.'

"The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one."

January casually closed the book and put it back in his bag like nothing had happened as he continued to write in his own notebook.

November's eyebrows were raised through the entire exchange, and even though night was falling, he still wore his sunglasses. Even though January had stomped it out, the lush carpeting was beginning to singe and curl, so November quickly bent over and planted a hand into the ash.

Steam exploded from his hand upon contact, the embers that still remained fizzling out instantly. When he withdrew his hand, the notebook and carpet fibers around it had become frosty and stiff.

He rolled down the window nearest him and slipped a cigarette from the packet in his suit pocket. "My, my... Such lack of tact for trained secret agents of the crown. Keep it up, boys, and you'll have killed each other before we even get to Havoc." He smirked slightly as he lit up the cigarette, while January continued to read aloud to pay off his contract.

When January was done reading his poem September opened the window, carefully picked up the frozen notebook and with a sigh, tossed it out the window. “You had better pick some more interesting poems. If the rest of them are like that I may have to burn that book as well.” He then proceeded to pull out a blindfold and a completely different notebook. This one also small but bound in a thick black cloth and currently blank. He tied the blindfold tightly over his eyes, opened the notebook and in a completely different code, wrote a few sentances. He then tucked the notebook back in his jacket. He was glad now that he typed up all his notes on his computer so he would still be able to read and rewrite the notes that were in that code.
He matched November 11th's smirk and added “No worries I won’t try to kill him yet. Havoc will be far more fun than he could ever be and I have a feeling we will need all the help we can get.”

January removed his shoes and tossed them outside as well. He couldn't wear them anymore, they were too dirty. "Oh, I'm sorry September. Next time I'll read to an audience that actually knows what books is." January condescendingly remarked. "And of course I'm not planning on killing our dear blindfolded friend here. He's far too interesting." seeing him write everything down in a different code he went ahead an returned the memory to him, leaning his head against March's shoulder.

March pulled a package of gum out of his pocket and popped a stick in his mouth, resolutely staying out of these shenanigans. He offered a piece to January and turned his attention to September. "With all due respect, with a deal that could be as potentially dangerous as this, I don't think we should be experimenting with our capabilities. Have you had much stealth training at all?"

September sighed lightly as the memory of the code came back to him and then turned towards March, “I have spent more time studying and training my power than anything else. Also I am rarely one to hide in the shadows for long, so although I have had relatively extensive stealth training I would assume one of you to be slightly more proficient than me. I just thought I would mix things up a bit, add a little bit more fun to the situation,” he said with another smirk pulling at his lips.

"Thank you."January happily took the gum offered to him and then turned his attention to September as he unwrapped it and began to fold the wrapper into a very small square. "Well, I appreciate your viewpoint, but death is decidedly not fun for me. I vote March does it. I'd also like to ask that you please don't decide that just because you're proficient in one thing that the skill applies to everything. It won't do us any good for you to be good at throwing light at people if you can't hide in a mission where we need you to hide."

March offered the gum to September and November 11th. "I'll do it. What should I use as a signal?"

September pulled off his blindfold perfering to see their faces while he spoke, “No thank you,” he said to March and then to January, “No worries. I too would prefer to avoid death for the time being. I can use stealth when it is required. I simply prefer not to. Of course, if the plan necessitates hiding I will. As I said before I have been trained in stealth and have used it when it is vital to the mission at hand.”
September then turned back to March, “We could use a radio beacon. You would simply press a button and it would beep at us on the other side. Also I noticed we haven’t asked very many questions,” he turned to November 11th and pulled out his notebook again, “I should have asked these questions earlier. Do we know what kind of building we are meeting them in? How and in what are we transporting HAVOC? And what do we know about this drug dealer?”

"He's nothing special," said November, blanching as he puffed on his cigarette. "Just an average drug dealer that got a hold of a large prize and is looking to sell it to make it big. We'll be meeting him in a large hotel, and after that, taking Havoc by car to a private jet back in Bucharest." He hacked and coughed as he took a particularly large drag. "As for the signal, how about this: I'll say the words "Moon Dog" when I want you to move. We're almost there, so we can scout out the location before I go inside."

September nodded, kept writing for a minute and then said, "That sounds fine to me."

"I'm agreed on all points." Thomas said smiling. "But where will September and I be positioned?"

"I suppose I'm about to find out soon. We're just arriving now." The car pulled up near a large apartment building with small alleyways to each side, and fourteen stories high. November stepped out of the car. "I'll be meeting him on the fourth floor. I'd like one of you near the front door and one of you near the back door. March, there's a window to the room we'll be talking in, but there don't seem to be any ways to climb up." He pointed to a large window on the streetside of the building.

"I've got this." March's eyes glowed red as the space around him turned blue.

Several vines grew up from the ground and clung to the wall, forming a strong lattice capable of holding a man's weight, their tips gripping onto the window ledge.