A Dysfunctional Heist
rating: +21+x

I SEE YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO TRANSFER FILES. WOULD YOU LIKE SOME HELP WITH THAT? [Y] [N]

Isaac grunted in frustration as he analyzed the computer, hoping that the current owners were dumb enough to leave any information on the device, looking for clues to other warehouses like the one he was currently raiding. Turning his attention to his earpiece, he could practically hear the frantic pantomiming of everything one of his teammates said as the man prattled on to his commanding officer.

"So I'm bleeding out from my left arm, my neck is still fucked up from the noose, I'd just gotten thrown into a rather disgruntled Docent, and I only had a single shell left in my shotgun…"

"Davis, can you please shut off Dom's comm? Some of the less self-centered of us are trying to work here. And can anyone answer my question? I'm stuck and the ham is getting suspicious." He continued to tinker away at the computer, copying over any files that seemed to be of use and trying to coax the AI into entering the storage device.

OH DEAR, YOU SEEM TO HAVE ATTEMPTED TO ACCESS MY ADMINISTRATIVE FILE. THAT'S RATHER RUDE, DON'T YOU THINK?

"…Thinking quickly, I reached out into the air and brought an entire shelf's worth of books down on their heads at terminal velocity. It was pretty hilarious."

"Okay the whole story about how you busted up the nutso death cultists in the Library is just riveting, Dominic, but I don't see how that answers my question on how to politely code a file transfer request, and none of that is anything in comparison with my battles over the years against the Dreadlords of the Insurgency."

"Oh, no I wasn't trying to answer your question, Isaac, I was just illustrating how much more exciting my life was before I got dragged in with you lot. You're a lucky bastard, y'know? And please don't start with that Dreadlord shit again. We're stuck with the actual Foundation now, not the Insurgency chucklefucks you used to work with."

The commanding officer's voice rang out sharply over the intercom and throughout the surveillance vehicle, pinging off rapid-fire orders for each member of the team. "Look, both of you, save the reminiscing for later. Alvares, I need eyes on the cameras so you can help Holst pick out the minotaur in the main party room. Grenich, just try saying "please"? I have no idea how to deal with computers, much less a sentient AI that looks like a ham shank. Also, as much as I hate to say it, I'm agreeing with Alvares. We're the Foundation, we took you from the Insurgency. Holst, stop picking unnecessary pockets or you're going to draw attention on yourself. Berlot, poke around in the store room see if there's any other artifacts that you can carry out discretely when Grenich finishes his work."

With an impossibly melodramatic sigh, the former Hand member returned to his observations of the video monitors. Grenich, the resident tech expert and a former Chaos Insurgency operative was hunched over a computer in a storeroom.

Holst, their inside contact with Marshall, Carter, and Dark, was stalking through the main party area, swiping money from people who looked like they had some sort of security clearance to power his plutomantic divination, as well as a few others who just looked easy, muttered his reassurances that all the money he stole was completely necessary.

Aries, the anartist blood-witch and artifact hoarder, was in another corner of the storeroom that Grenich was in, looking over row after row of artifacts. Alvares' voice made her roll her eyes as it came over her headpiece. "Aye-aye, Cap- wait what the fuck? Aries, be a dear and turn that lovely body of yours around again. I need to look at something in the case behind you."

"I swear to whatever god or gods you believe in if you mention my body again, you will be my next blood source, Alvares." Still, she turned around and read the placard. "The hell is this? 'Antique Siberian Warblade, 1 of 7 in total, 1 of 4 in the possession of Mssrs Marshall, Carter, and Dark. This item was recovered from the personal armory of Genghis Khan. It is believed to be a war trophy following his conquest of the Dae-"

"Ah hell." Alvares cut her off abruptly. "That's exactly what I thought. Please hold. And for the love of Christ, don't touch it."

"Right. Like I was going to grab the fancy artifact that does who-knows-what through two inches of glass." Aries rolled her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that night and continued to survey the room for useful or dangerous artifacts. Preferably something heavy to bludgeon Alvares with when they left.

"Oi, Liv!"

"That's Captain Davis, Alvares. What's wrong?"

"Oh whatever you say, glorious captain. We uh… Have a bit of a problem. Looks like our buds here at Marshall, Carter, and Dark have procured some Daevite weapons."

"Daevite? What's that?" She hovered over his shoulder, staring at the screen that caught his attention.

"Long story short, the kind of nasty civilization of warmongering necromancers and psychotic cannibals that would make George Miller and Sam Raimi proud."

"Who's George Miller and Sam Raimi?"

"GAH! Turn on the tv sometime, damn! Also irrelevant. It's bad news. And she definitely doesn't want to grab it. I mean, unless you want a rampaging Protomongolian war goddess on the team. God only knows how that would turn out."

"… Right. Okay. I'm going to file that in with the higher-ups. Aries, tag it with that tracking spell Alvares taught you." She immediately began tapping away at her cellphone, sending off a message to the Overseer Liaison for her team. Over her comm device, she heard a faint ding, presumably from the computer Grenich was working on. Shortly after, this was confirmed by a tinny electronic voice coming over the comm.

FILE TRANSFER COMPLETE. WOULD YOU LIKE TO MOVE ANYTHING ELSE WHILE I'M HERE? THIS DRIVE IS KIND OF CRAMPED. [Y] [N]

"Alright, Davis. It's been transferred, and I got pretty much everything I could find. Now what?" Grenich disengaged the drive and stood up.

"Alright. Aries, Grenich, See what else you can grab without setting off any alarms and get out of there. Holst, do you have eyes on the security team or the minotaur? Can you get out without alerting anyone?"

Holst's tinny voice came over his communication device, out of breath. "I do have eyes on the security team, but I really don't see myself getting out of here without drawing their attention."

Alvares' laugh caught Davis off guard. "Oh yeah, send in the klepto with poor impulse control to a fat cat party with a billion security guards. Excellent idea, Captain. Aries, Grenich, run like hell."

"Shit." Aries scrambled to fill up the bag with any artifacts in arm's reach and lurched for the door. "Grenich, come on!"

"Coming, coming! Fucking Holst. Alright." The Insurgency operative grabbed Aries' arm as he ran past and dragged her towards the hallway, much to her protest. She felt as he dropped the drive into her bag.

"I CAN RUN FOR MY LIFE WITHOUT HELP, THANKS." She readjusted her bag, yanked her arm away from Grenich's and headed for the door, outstripping him and drawing a handgun.

A voice exploded behind her. "Not fast enough, unfortunately."

The wall slammed shut in front of Grenich and Aries. A gigantic, well-dressed man with vaguely Mediterranean features stood behind them, one hand on the wall beside him. On one of the man's hands was a Chicago Bulls championship ring. The other was occupied by an improbably large handgun.

Grenich broke the silence first. "Uh. Davis. We found the minotaur."

The man smiled. "Correct." He slammed his hand against the wall again and with a sickening crunch Grenich was crushed by the wall. Aries felt the rush of wind behind her, and turned around to see a red smear where Grenich had been standing. Without thinking, she fired her gun a half dozen times in the general direction of the Minotaur and clipped his arm, breaking his concentration. The door behind her suddenly opened and she dived through it, and she ran as fast as her legs could carry her straight into the surveilance van the others were waiting for her. Alarms began sounding as Davis grabbed her by her collar and yanked her into the van.

Everyone was silent as Davis wrote up her report to the Overseer Liaison as Alvares drove the team back to the base and Davis treated Aries' and Holst's wounds. Some time later, they finally got a reply.

FROM: Overseer Liaison Office
RE: MISSION REPORT

Per Overseer directive, all casualties are acceptable and expected for this team, Officer Davis. Report to base and your team will receive further instruction pertaining to the Daevite artifacts after emotional and physical recovery.
O5-7

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License