aOIVV FE L 35

Parts

Agent Rainier dialed Robert Goldenstein's home phone, he was told to stay home while FBI Agents will monitor his home from a parked car. "Mr. Rainier?" "Yes, good evening! I'm having a bit of a late night here at the office, and I'm itching for some company and maybe to get more work done. Would you please meet me at my home, we can get one of these interviews out of the way you know?" Robert was hesitant, "Well... ah, I feel fucking cooped up here. If I leave, will they follow me?" Rainier laughed, "Oh no, they won't! When you get here, we'll have drinks too. My address is 201 Poland Avenue, the one with the big Sycamore Tree out front."

Lady L walked down the street from the Deli, to find herself on an empty street, there were a long line of garage doors down a side-street. She walked down the side-street, the sun is setting and the clouds glisten orange and red in the sky. She was trying to find something yet had no idea what it was she was looking for. She was looking at the labels on the sides of each garage door, each contained a pin number. She stopped, and looked at the one label that had just two digits. "35"

Larry Freiburger was in the hospital and was more injured than he thought. He had double pneumonia, and had a severe concussion, which will result in him being in a sedated state for an extended period of time. As he lay in the hospital bed, he dreams of a dance contest where a man and a woman are tearing up the dance floor. Their dance moves are fast, precise, majestic, even elegant. He saw a horse behind the bar, a light was emanating from it, he saw his family frowning at him from their seats on the barstools. Gunmen stormed the dance contest and gunned down everyone, except his family. The man and woman who were dancing elegantly were bludgeoned to death, organs torn out, bodies mutilated by gloved hands. A man in black military uniform, covered in blood, with a mask and helmet looked up at him and said in a garbled loud voice, "You have been discovered."

Two Union Metallurgy Experts are called by the property on Willard Blvd. to examine their damaged property from the Vehicle Explosion. The metal fencing was so badly destroyed, it was curled like talons. The Two Union Engineers looked at it, right down on the sidewalk and road, construction workers were fixing the road. The husband of the household walks up to them, "Crazy isn't it? How perfect these bars bent..." The tall and lanky Carpenter turned to him, "Yeah this shouldn't be possible, I used to work in Ballistics at the LAPD. I did Metallurgy Work with them, obviously..." He hesitated, "These bars are solid steel, seven inches thick, not that tall, very high density and a high end powder coat finish. Reinforced with a Tungsten Alloy too, as you can see from those black strings going up the bars there." He points at the bar, and the other says, "It's a very uncommon practice, skyscrapers don't even do that. No... Wait..." He looked closer, "That's impossible, with our current technology, what the hell?"

"We will have you dropped off approximately nine hundred clicks north of Kuwait, on the northern border of Iran. There, you will be dropped off on the border of Azerbaijan, Western Caucasus. You will be on foot and travel west to Armenia, your objective is to find this individual and either bring them in dead or alive." The Five-Star General handed out Photographs to each soldier. Ari looked at it and turned to Victoria, "Looks a bit like that actress in those Noir movies back home, huh?" She shrugged, "Reminds me more of old photos of those Russian War Heroes, Mariya Oktyabrskaya." He put the photograph in his uniform pocket, and remembered, "You mean Lori Petty?" Victoria shook her head, "Pfft, whatever."

She had already drank five beers before she asked Ari, "You're sure?" He just sat there shaking, "This is going to be just like it, but worse. Innocent people's lives..." 

A man in unbadged uniform is dropped off by Stealth Helicopter in the middle of the desert just north of Palm Springs, he has a strange rifle for a weapon and he has nigh vision goggles. He unholsters his firearm and proceeds to walk towards the City like he's in Combat. 

A woman arrives off a plane at LAX and she visits the restroom. She adjusts her makeup in the mirror, until several men walk in, two hold the door closed and the two others grab the woman. She screams and kicks at them, the one holding her left leg asks the guy hovering over his shoulder, "Which parts do we need?" He looks at her, "We need that." He points at her groin.

Pops takes a shower, he lives in a studio apartment in downtown, after he's done showering he gets a knock on his door. He looks threw the peephole to see the black man who was at his store earlier. He opens the door, "Hello, may I help you?" The man seemed sullen, "I apologize for my behavior. I was not trying to rob you or hurt you." Pops smiles, "I know, you seem rather distressed. What's going on son?" He looks up at him, "I don't know. All I remember is... I was hiking in some mountain range, and I wake up seeing other people, Mexicans, whites, blacks, and maybe even people from other countries. They looked weird... I think either Arabic or Saudis, or North Africa, I don't know. They were all handcuffed, and people in camo were going down the line, executing them one by one!" He turns to his right, he sees a vision of a cargo plane's bay doors opening and spilling blood all over a runway. "May I come in...?" Pops is visibly frightened, "No... I'm coming out, I don't have visitors in my home. I'm going to take my gun with me, in case someone decides to mug us." He grabs his Berretta and clips it to his belt.