2784/Desert Search & Seizure

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Desert Search & Seizure
Date of Scene: 04 August 2020
Location: Cairo, Egypt
Synopsis: Domino joins another mercenary in escorting an important weapons crate from Cairo, across the river, to Giza... And walks away with the prize.
Cast of Characters: Neena Thurman, Amanda Sefton
Tinyplot: Zodiac Rising


Neena Thurman has posed:
Cairo, Egypt. It's an ageless city, where history itself is in every piece of brick, stone, mortar, bit of cloth. Paved streets sit along side millennia-used goat paths winding through the city. Where skyscrapers meet archaeological digs on the same block. There has been the attempt to partition 'new' and 'old', though the government is failing miserably at it, which is why there is an effort to build a 'New Cairo' further into the desert. Starting fresh, as it were.

The sun is shining without much relief from small clouds dotting the skies. It's a desert sun, after all, and Domino is dressed for the occasion. Instead of her leathers, she's in a lightly colored caftan with a bit of something to keep her pale skin from getting too sunburned from the direct light. She's still obvious for what she is, however; can't hide the spot, after all.

Walking the length of one of many marketplaces in the 'old' section, the place looks like a backdrop from an old war-time 'Egyptian market' one would see in the movies. Sandstone buildings dating back centuries (many, many centuries) close together with only thin alleyways that divide them. Places that can be loosely called 'shops' are set up, some with actual handwritten signs and others a mere handcart. But, all manner of wares can be found, from fish from the seas to traditional sweets found hanging on trees. Stopping at one of the carts, Domino points out some likely looking dried dates, and after a quick exchange of cash, she gets a small bag of them, nibbling as she walks away.

Written in that bag, the 'name' of her contact. Sweet.. and undoubtely salty.

All in all, a savory experience!

Amanda Sefton has posed:
The contact is going by the name Redd. When she does eventually meet him, it may become evident why. Beneath the red and white checkered keffiyeh he wears, his hair is that bright, natural, Irish red. His eyes are blue. And his attire is entirely suited to the desert heat... and for concealing a fairly extensive arsenal -- particularly given his short stature. All of 4'6", the man could just as well becaused Shorty as Redd. But that's the thing about nicknames in the field. They're usually pretty obvious, even when they obscure.

He waits at an open air cafe on a terrace overlooking the market; one that has easy access to transportation and convenient footpaths, making it a fairly easy place to make a quick exit from when necessary.

When the woman with the black patch around her eye makes her appearance, he casually breaks the stem of the flower in the vase set in the middle of his table -- the sign she is doubtlessly looking for.

His blue eyes glitter as he watches her approach.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Pale, well manicured fingers dipped in black nail polish dip into the bag, pulling out the sweet fruit as she moves through the market easily, like a professional even! Domino knows the benefit of caftans for concealing weapons; a nod to the culture and not making //too// much of a scene. Her line of work is tacitly allowed by the turn of a head, but even she knows when to push Lady Luck.

Closing up the delights bag with a quick fold, Domino begins to approach the table, blue eyes searching for any hint of 'wrongness' as she does so. The red is a beacon, and while the 'tuxedo' look is her own thing, obviously red is, well, Redd.

Once the distance is crossed, she takes a hold of the open chair and sits down, crystal clear blues on his for a moment before her lips form something of a smirk.

"We're causing a scandal right now." Female travelling alone. Meeting up with a man, unsupervised? "In for a penny, in for a pound," is shrugged after. It's not a commentary on the meeting, just a simple observation.

"Things good?"

Amanda Sefton has posed:
"They'll get over it," Redd says, Irish lilt to his voice as he smiles at his companion. "Long as we don't canoodle." His lips twitch faintly at the old fashioned word. Then, however, he nods. "It's as good as we're gonna get. It's a virtual smash'n'grab. In. Out. Disappear into the sand. Damage to a minimum if we're lucky. If not?" He shrugs. "Long as we get what we need and the contract's fulfilled, I don't much care what happens to desert rats."

Yeah, he's a nice guy. Really.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino grins, her expression almost wolfish in the thought of what she considers to be 'fun'. "Not mixing business and pleasure," her tones are soft and good humored. "Not when I really enjoy my work." And the ensuing payday. A girl's gotta eat! (And increase her arsenal.)

Her head cants as she listens to the brief scenario, a hand disappearing into her pockets to put her bag away. It's out again, still empty. She's not known as a double-crosser, and she isn't about to start now!

"Disappear into the desert. Tell me it's not on camels, and we're good." She's expecting more.. military grade stuff that'll take the sands. And more fun to drive.

As far as Domino goes? She's probably not a whole lot nicer. Other than the soft spot for mutants... mostly.

"When are we headed out?"

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Redd chuckles softly, "Ah, now. Don't be assumin' there won't be any fun, luv. No point in risk without some reward." He rises gently to his feet, flashing her a roguish smile worthy of Indiana Jones himself. Despite the fact he looks more like a red-haired Peter-Dinklage-as-Lawrence-of-Arabia.

"Right now, I think. Day's not getting any younger." He drops a bit of currency on the table, to cover the drink he'd been nursing, and starts moving across the terrace towards an alleyway that eventually gives way to a covered archway with alcoves recessed within. Tucked into the alcoves are a pair of bikes -- a custom modified Triumph Speedmaster that will accommodate Redd's short stature, and a more robust Ducati model across the way.

"Follow me," Redd tells her, swinging up smoothly onto his bike. "And don't get lost."

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino barks a laugh, her ending expression a smirk. "Charmer."

At the word, however, the albino merc rises from her spot casually, and eyes the coins on the table for the drink. Digging into her pocket, she pulls out a couple of coins to leave on the table. "Don't be cheap." Even if he did tip well, she's just being a jerk.

In the next few minutes, she's walking through the alleyway, and once she's led through to the alcoves where the bikes are, she whistles softly. "Only reason I'll be on your back tire is because you're leading," is murmured appreciatively. Not a camel.

Before she gets on her bike, though, she digs out the last date, pops it into her mouth and pulls out a lighter to set fire to the bag. Done... and done. The ashes are crushed under booted toe, and mixed with centuries of dirt. Only after that does she pull out the bike to sit astride, her tiptoes the only thing holding the bike vertically.

The engine is turned on, the gear set first to neutral, then first.. and she grins over the sound of the rumble as she pulls the goggles off the other handle to set on her face.

"I love my job."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Redd chuckles softly and kicks his bike into gear. In moments, they're threading through market stalls and then out into traffic with the same disregard as any other motorcyclist in the city. Probably more, given the nature of each.

Presently, they're zipping along a broad road -- comparatively, at any rate -- along the Nile, moving from district to district quickly. Redd doesn't actually drive any crazier than anyone else, but that's not really saying much. He's good, anyway, at keeping the pace and avoiding the various hazards, a faster moving piece of flotsam down the river of traffic than the bulk of the junkers in the stream.

In time, they end up off the thoroughfare and into a dockside warehouse district. Redd pulls to a stop in the shadow of a rundown, clay brick building, waiting for his companion to stop beside him.

He then points to a second building a short distance away. "The stuff we want is in there. Crates are marked with this symbol." He holds up a paper inscribed with a psuedo-heiroglyphic cartouch that seems to feature a snake motif. "Leave the bikes. They'll be picked up later. We need to nick a transport and get the crates onto a barge that will meet us just north of the Nile Crystal Cruises. We sail south and cross the river into Giza. Meet our offloaders there."

Neena Thurman has posed:
With that final rev to her engine, Domino moves out with a certain amount of grace. Not easy to do when one has such a bike under her! The marketplace is a slolom with only basic courtesy keeping her from blowing through in such a way as even natives would be hardput to keep up. Once the road opens, however, all bets are off. There's a burst of speed that brings the front tire off the ground for a *chirp*ed second, and the pair motor through with the winds blowing their robes.

Domino can smell the Nile before she reaches it, and with a briefly scrunched face, throttles back and lets the engine idle as she rolls in. Pulling to a stop next to Redd, she kills the engine at the word and follows the gesture to its end and studies the building for a long moment before she pulls off her goggles. Once the goggles are off, the headcovering is next, and then the robes. She's back in black leathers, and obviously well armed. As a nod to the heat, however, her top is a tank-midriff, showing off pale skin, while her pants are the same as usual; belted with holsters and undoubtedly hiding knives.

At the instructions and a glance at the symbol, she nods once and grins widely. She's running now on the adrenaline of that lovely bike, and the anticipation of what lies before her?

"Lez' go."

She's ready to cross the short distance, blue eyes keen on windows, doors, possible choke points.. entrances and egresses...

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Redd moves alongside the mutant woman with surprising grace and speed of his own. He doesn't move like your typical 'Little Person' dealing with achondroplasia. Instead, his movements are fluid and sure, more like a proportionately small man than one whose arms and legs are too short for his torso.

He guides his companion across the distance between buildings, pausing only to fire a gadget at camera vantage points. And even the, pauses hardly last a second, if that.

He makes it to a secluded door just as it opens on a pair of much taller, burly men. Dockworkers, by the looks of them. The nearest goes down in a heap, as the short man sweeps the taller man's legs right out from under him.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino has worked with short-stacks before, Logan being one of them, and there's never any underestimating the abilities. Redd wouldn't have survived this long in this arena if he was a slacker. It's a hard career made even harder when one sticks out from the environs. Not too many pale complexioned red-heads in Cairo. Just like there aren't many albinos with a black patch over one eye.

Own it!

Domino looks up at the targets and skims along a line. Picking up a stone, she hefts it briefly to adjust for weight before her gaze falls and she pitches it at the head of the second dock worker with a good amount of force.

*thunk*

Right above the temple, and the one who is behind leg-swept guy is bloodied. It's all Domino needs is to be there, and as the man goes down, he falls backwards in rock-head, and the pair fall, the one behind slamming the back of his head on the ground. Not trusting to chance, though (trust but verify!), Domino whips out a little .22 and fires two bullets to put them down for good. Each between the eyes with a *pop* before she smiles at her companion. Once done, she slides into the open door, changing out her pistol for something with a little more kick to it. Clear blue eyes search the room, checking for motion, movement before she nods once to her compatriot.

Advance, bring up.. just like a game of leap frog.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
And thus two go down. Redd gives Domino a quick glance over his shoulder. A wolfish grin touches his lips. He slips forward and stretches out a hand. Sand picks up from outside, brushing gently past them only to become a bit of a battering ram down the corridor. At the end, the metal door punches off its hinges and flies into a large warehouse space. The fellow who was supposed to be guarding it is out cold, his left arm ripped off by concussive force.

"I told you there'd be a spot of fun, luv," he tells Domino with a grin. "Let's go mess up the sandbox."

It really shouldn't take long for the pair of them to handle a dozen dock workers and half a dozen guards.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino can feel the concussive blast as it passes her, that high pressure moving through lower, and the ensuing chill left. She grins as she looks back at the Irishman, and she nods her head once. Time to set 'em up to fall.

She moves forward again, and with a 'hey guys,' gets some attention pulled onto her, and not the bleeding stump of a guy lying and screaming as the blood spurts. It's slippery, it's messy, and it doesn't take long for him to die from the bloodloss.

In that meantime however, Dom bends her wrist a little to hit a worker in the face with the butt of her pistol, at the same time is aimed at another; the strike and a hint of encouragement from a pale finger has the gun report with a *bang*, taking both down with a single move.

As the others start to understand what it is that is going on, Domino is in the middle of the fray, getting up close and personal with leaping through, landing on a desk and shooting more at close range.

It really doesn't take long; not for two professionals. After all, when names are whispered, it's usually at least her own. She's gone through not only her own chosen moniker, but many others- and some not very polite.

"Let's find it.."

It's a search, a quick one, where they find covered crates stocked and set back to make it look like it's part of any other normal shipment. Nothing to see here, let's move along!

"Bingo."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Redd certainly handles his own half of the equation. Wind. Sand. Wait. Was that a giant serpent over there? If so, it's nothing but an out of place sand bar, now.

As Domino locates the crate, Redd grabs a jitney to move the thing, letting Domino guide him as he loads up the crate. "Do me a favour, luv," he says from behind the machine. "Go get us some wheels, eh? I'll have this lot to the dock in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

Isn't he sweet?

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino turns around, her hand still on the canvas like a mutant Vanna White showing off the board, and she grins. "I'm gonna assume that's quick. Only lamb I've ever seen has been on my plate."

Stepping away from the goods, she nods her acknowledgment and acquiencence as she heads out the door to find said equipment. Pausing, she looks back and appears to want to say something but obviously decides against it as she turns once again and disappears outside.

Perhaps a little slower than two shakes of a lamb's tail, maybe more like three or four before there's an engine that can be heard outside the back entrance. It's an old Range Rover truck; been used and abused many times, but it's the one thing that runs and isn't all that obvious when it hits the road.

'What'd it look like?'
'Truck. Rusted truck.'
'Right...

Climbing out of the driver's seat after pulling the emergency brake on it and dropping it into neutral, Domino moves to the back to open up the tailgate and is ready to receive said goods. "Let's go.. got a boat to catch. I love cruises."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Redd laughs at Domino's words. He slides the crate out of its slot and moves it down to the loading docks. When she arrives with the Rover, he maneuvers the crate into its trunk and tosses a convenient tarp overtop of it before climbing into the passenger's seat beside her.

"Over down to the wharf," he tells her, setting himself up to be able to keep watch while she drives. "There's a barge with an ibis painted on its bow. It'll take us down to the Giza Shipyards. Client's waiting there."

It's not a long trip. One might wonder why a pair of high priced mercenaries are needed for a shipment like this. Sure, it's weapons, but... it's a city full of such transactions. Maybe they're not handled out in the open, fair enough, but simple courier duty?

Who's the client? Always nameless, which is fine as long as money transfers properly. Which, of course, so far, it has.

Must be one helluva weapon.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino watches the crate get loaded, and with a thump of a hand on the canvassed crate, she dance-moves back to the driver's side and climbs in, her hand on the handbrake immediately, foot on the clutch. The moment Redd gets in, the emergency brake is let go, the gearshift is grabbed, and they spin tires. If anyone can get those *chirps* from the old truck, she surely can.

The engine revs as she drives through the riverside streets, and pulling up to the quay, pale eyes are looking on the sides of boats, lips forming the names on the bows until she spots the one likely, no doubt at the same time her partner does. Having never turned her lights on, there are no headlamps to darken, but she does drop the truck into neutral, kills the engine and drifts into proper positioning for the handoff. Once in place, the brake is pulled, and she opens her door to spring out again. If there is going to be a problem, this is usually when it happens.

"Got lookout."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Redd nods and slides out of his seat. He moves swiftly to pop the trunk, beckoning to a deckhand to give him a hand. Two men come down. Redd steps back, but his hands are on his weapons. What's that idea Domino's got?

Trust, but verify.

When the crate is safely stowed aboard, Redd sits beside it on a low stool. The deckhands have been banished abovedeck, leaving the two mercenaries to babysit the crate as the barge floats its way south down the Nile, drifting starboard into Giza.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Trust but verify.

That's taken Domino a long way, and will continue to do so. She's racked up quite a body count on that 'verification' stage, and so far, it's worked for her. She whistles a quick, distinct 'all clear' as the deckhands move the crate aboard, and once it's securely stowed, she jumps on board, ready to pull the stern line when called.

As they float, Domino comes to sit down, the downtime process of checking her guns, moving her ammunition around so it's easily accessible for the next possible stage. It's done effortlessly, and could easily be done blindfolded, she knows her tools so well.

Once that's done, Domino looks at her compatriot in consideration. They're not the usual sort of courriers, for certain. And as such, they have certain.. latitudes.

"You know. I've lifted lots of crates in my time.. but that's not weighing like weaponry. Sure, maybe Hammer crap that's gutted, but.." Beat. "You wanna look inside?"

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Redd cants his head, regarding the mercenary woman across from him. He looks at the crate. His lips purse. "I reckon you're right," he muses. "I can't think what kinda weapon needs a pair like us to float it 20 clicks down the river."

He rises to his feet and looks about. Presently, he finds a toolbox and roots through it, coming up with a catspaw and a claw hammer. He moves to the crate and starts working on prying the thing open.

Trust but verify, aye.

Once the crate's open, however, what they find inside is a mess of dried grasses and a bunch of museum quality artifacts nestled within carefully packed cases.

A snarl crosses Redd's lips. "Sonuva..."

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino grins at the agreement of her partner in crime and pulls the tarp back some in order for the prying to commence. She helps, pushing things out of the way, and shifting it for the right leverage, and the moment the top pops and grass is revealed, the albino takes a step back. A soft whistle sounds from the pale merc and she shakes her head slowly, her jaw setting. Her own thoughts on the matter echo his own,
"Sonuva..."

Stepping forward again, Domino digs though the grass; maybe something is below all this crap? Grass.. artefacts.. and crate bottom. She makes a shove at it, jostling the crate and spins around, looking more than a little annoyed.

"There's gonna be one less goddamned contact in the world tonight," is growled. She's ready to toss it all into the drink and have a chat when they arrive.

"Take something for the little lady," assuming he has one. "At least make your place look nicer." This is NOT going to pay their fee, and when this sort of thing happens?

They get gipped on their money, or they're paid a great deal less than they deserve.

"I got dibs on this..." and as she reaches in, she finds an armband. It looks old, exquisitely crafted, and holding it up to the night's sky, it does gleam. "Summer wear." She //is// wearing a tanktop!

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Some of these pieces are solid gold. The armlet Domino selects is probably worth in excess of $20K, all by itself.

Redd nods his assent, rooting through the grass until he comes up with some sort of ceremonial dagger. He looks genuinely surprised by it. "I... think this will do nicely," he says, a trace of a smile on his lips.

He shoves it into the back of his belt, concealed under his vest, and rifles through a little more, just in case there's something better.

"You should put that on," he says, glancing back to Domino, giving her a bit more of a smile than the dagger got. "See if there's something else, too. Some of this stuff, melted down... it's worth a mint."

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino grins at her partner and nods her approval of his taste. She was going 'girly' there for a moment; she still likes to look good! Jeez!

"Y'think?" She lifts it with fingertips again and nods her agreement before she starts to lace it up her left arm. It fits in place, and doesn't seem too tight, even for her more muscular frame. Bending an arm to test how well it sits there, after a few heartbeats, she finds a grin. "Hard to find things that look right," she offers. "But $20k always looks good."

Once that's done, she's back to looking in the crate, pushing things around. There are a few things that she'd consider keeping, but for the most part? "We'll get to shore, fence it, go looking and then when we're done, I think a round of drinks is in order."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
"We'll need to divert first, I think," Redd says. but, again, he smiles. "I know a place that'll do nicely." He glances in the direction of the deckhands. "'Course, we may need to 'negotiate' some." If they're lucky, it'll be an equitable negotiation. If not? Well, the pair do specialize in aggressive negotiations, don't they?

"I'm sure, whichever way the chips fall, we're golden."