Summer Crossroads - DFW Metaplex

The Ambassador has no Pants

Session 11

253 katana oro

by Kakuji Inagawa

They could have fled. They are cowardly assasins. They chose to fight and, well, mostly die. With the gunfire directed our way, the one named Mustang has seen reason and begins shooting. A grazing shot to the shoulder, a bullet somewhere in my left arm – there’s really no time to worry about these things. I serve two masters – the Yakuza and the Dragon Kuzryu. Both are demanding and a broken body is hardly excuse to fail in my duties.

The ambassador is pissing his pants in the corner. Typical. We grab him and leave the whore in his room, screaming on nobody’s dime. We have more questions but this is hardly the place to do it.

I hear sirens, alarms raging in the hall. The elevator is a bit obvious so we go to the stairs. Not far before we hit something, different. The air has a cold feel to it. The half-fey calls it supernatural. I’m inclined to agree with her. She has been holding us under some sort of faerie magic veil so we can’t be seen, or so she says. I have little way of knowing and know her well enough not to trust her.

We exit the stairwell and make for the other emergency stairs. On the way down we see an armed contingent coming toward us. I race past them with the speed of Kuzryu and they see nothing save the wind. I hear the pop of a flashbang behind me. Disoriented, their quarry under a veil, the thugs are either dead or evaded.

There is another one not too far and we stare each other down, blades ready. He’s not chinese, his sword looks like a fencing blade. Kuzryu’s tooth will snap it in two before I kill him; if it is necessary.

He is fortunate, as the party descends they recognize him. Tyler.

We exit the building, easily lost among the growing crowds as they evacuate the building. One of our group hit the fire alarm on the way down. With the gunshots as well, the crowd is being escorted away from the building, the emergency lights, it is too easy to disappear.

We pile into the van and question the Ambassador more as we drive. The head of security, Shen Jian seems to be our target but his room was back at the hotel. We have information regarding his possible hangouts, his associates. Our only idea is to check out another restaurant on the list. We stop at the airport and drop off the Ambassador. Anita convinces him that his best plan is to board a plane naked, in his hotel robe and take his ass back to China. He concurs and I am suitably impressed.

We break in, a small place on the east side of highway 75 in Richardson. Breaking in we get about the same information as we did from the last place. So a trap is set. Whoever responds to the break-in will be our target.

It isn’t the local police obviously. Carloads of armed Chinese begin to show in the parking lot. More assassins. There seems to be a man in charge – older, doesn’t seem to be wearing the same dark suit and sunglasses uniform. Mustang starts by diabling the buildings power with some type of magical feedback. Then he starts on their vehicles.

Anita decides to involve the police and calls in the gangster gathering. Their reaction is unexpected. They kill off the officer that responds and decide to split up and try to melt into the streets.

Mustang is firing on them before we can stop him. He drops one with a sniper shot from the back of the van. They scatter and return fire as Anita pulls away. We lose a tire and she starts to circle around behind the building for cover. My eyes have not left the old man and I call on Kuzryu’s speed, bailing from the van at top speed to begin pursuit.

The old man and two thugs are forcing a passing motorist from his car. As the doors close, I am liek the wind, easing into the rear passenger seat with my sword at the old man’s throat. His thugs no better than to play hero. More gunshots ring out behind us.

“Shen Jian, where is he.”

“I don’t know” The old man is clam, collected with an ancient katana at his throat. Almost respectable.

“You have three seconds until you die, give me an answer.” I am calmer. More believable.

“I don’t know where he is, but he will be trying to retrieve the statue, he will be there at the Crow Collection. That is all I know.”

I don’t believe he is lying and his escort is getting antsy. Without a word I am racing from the vehicle toward the sound of gunfire and the screech of a van’s tire rim digging a trench in the asphalt.

More gunfire to cover our awkward escape and we ditch the van. Mustang has dropped several thugs in the streets, in broad daylight. We acquire a new vehicle and leave.

I demand to be taken to the Crow Collection, but even with Kuzryu’s strength it is hard to hide the pale look on my face. The arm wound has torn open and needs to be seen to. Unsure where to go, we head to the new guy – Tyler’s place. Plants, crosses, and an unsightly stain in the middle of the living room floor. I have no idea what is going on here, but it is a place to rest up and more importantly, not far from the Crow Museum.

We’ll cover the museum again. Shen will try again to take the statue and perhaps overcome it’s protective wards. We shall be near by, ready to strike.

Comments

This “The ambassador is pissing his pants in the corner. Typical.” said so much about your character and the situation- great log.

The Ambassador has no Pants
 

Hey thanks! Having fun playing for a change. Might be nice if the party sets a course that draws Kakuji back into the mix after I grab the helm again, but we’ll just have to see. He’s an interesting character to play.

The Ambassador has no Pants
CuRoi

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