fuck yeah,it's good to be back. how was your christmas Raven?

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You are Zero Crash, hacker extraordinaire, world-class phreaker, a legend to black hats everywhere.

Your friend Johnny and his crew are engaged in a daring heist on the Dragon's Nest, the skyscraper fortress of the Triads, and your job has been to keep security and alarms in the building under wraps. You kept the cameras under control with the classic looped feed trick, and disabled any motion or sound alarms whenever necessary.

When all the electronics in the building were disabled by an electromagnetic pulse, your job mostly ended. Now you're waiting to find out what happened, trying to imagine what you're going to do with your cut of the money when your friends are successful. Not about the variety of horrible fates they might have suffered in failure.

The monitors in front of you are mostly displaying static. They're feeds from the security cameras in the Triads' fortress: disabled for now, but when they come back online, you want to see what's going on in there. One monitor is plugged into the city's electric company, keeping tabs on the EMP blackout status. A radio nearby is monitoring police activity as they begin to surround the building and establish a perimeter. You hope your friends have gotten out of there safely by now.

You are in the lair of your fellow hacker, Burn Override: formerly your greatest rival, now perhaps something else. You met her in person for the first time two days ago, and she turned out to be a cute shortstack with pink hair, something you never imagined. Your friend Johnny the thug brought you here to steal a rig, so you could help him with his heist and strike a blow of revenge against your rival.

Instead, somehow, you agreed to work alongside her.

Since then you've been borrowing her top-of-the-line rig and staying in her place. For most of the past 48 hours you've been hacking together, fueling yourselves with coffee and bennies. The rest of the time, the two of you have been ...

>Arguing about everything.
>Screwing each other's brains out.
>Comparing histories and accolades.
>Competing with each other in hacking contests.
>Something else.

>>974159
Good, thanks. The food this year is something else.

>Comparing histories and accolades

>>974168
glad to hear it m8

>>974166
>>Comparing histories and accolades.
>>Competing with each other in hacking contests.

>>974169
>>974193

You've been competing with each other in contests of hacking skill, and trading old war stories, trying to one-up each other's accolades.

"--and that's how I bankrupted an international long-distance phone company with only a Cap'n Crunch whistle," you say. "Those were the good old days, when a young lad could open a box of cereal and be introduced to a whole new digital world. And of course, I was a juvy, so I could get away with just about anything. Later I went to prison for the same stuff. But, you know. Good times while it lasted."

"I hate to admit it, but I'm impressed," says Burn. "I learned a few whistle hacks, but not anything on that scale. But here's something we haven't compared yet. The real contest, where true mettle is tested. What ..." She pauses and levels a finger at you dramatically. "... is your high score in Donkey Kong?"

"Oh, er ... over seven hundred thousand. Easy."

Burn's face slowly becomes a smile of unbearable smugness. "Seven, you say?"

"Shut up! I flipped Space Invaders three times!"

Smugness intensifies. "Three times, you say?"

"Go fuck yourself, Burn! I have better things to do with my time than play kid's games." You scowl and swivel your chair back to face the monitors.

After a few minutes, Burn says, sincere again: "I forgot you were in prison. How was that?"

You reflect on some dark memories. "It was bad. Really bad. I only got through it because of Johnny. He saved my life in there, more than once. I got in some trouble with ..."

>The Aryans, when I wouldn't join them.
>The Jaguars, when I stole drugs from them.
>The Eights, just for being in their way.
>The Warden. That was a real snafu.
>Something else.

>Aryans

>>974272
>The Aryans, when I wouldn't join them.
I wish he'd showed up before the sodomy, though.

>>974272
Aryans

It sucks being a Jew, even if you're technically a goy, around Aryans.

>>974281
>>974294
>>974322


"The Aryans, when I wouldn't join them. They heard about me. Thought a skinny little white boy in need of allies would be a prime recruitment target, so they made me an offer. I would have been a lot safer if I agreed. But I just couldn't do it. I told them no. They didn't take it well. A few days later, in the showers, they ... expressed their displeasure at my decision.

"That's when Johnny showed up. Took a shiv for me, then kicked the shit out of those guys. I wish he'd showed up a little sooner, before ..." You pause, clear your throat, and move on. "Anyway, for the rest of my time in the joint, he protected me. The only thing he asked me in return was to recommend him a few books in the prison library, that was all. So I owe him a lot. I gotta do right by him." A shiver runs up your spine. "Also, I can never go back to prison, because those Nazi fucks hold a grudge, big time."

"At least, not without Johnny going with you," observes Burn.

"I can't let that happen," you say. "He did five for armed robbery, but if the feds ever found out some of the things he's really done, he'd get the chair. In a way, he was lucky to do five. By the time he got out, the heat around him had died down."

"What happened?" asks Burn. "What sort of shit was he mixed up in that caused so much trouble?"

"I never could get the whole story from him," you say. "I know there was a girl, and a crew, and some bad shit went down, and people died on both sides ... that's about all."

Burn says, "What do you think Johnny and the others are doing right now? They have a helicopter, right? Are they escaping?"

>I'm sure they're escaping and everything is fine.
>I don't know. I hope so. This job was ambitious.
>They're probably locked down at gunpoint, captured, being lined up against the wall to be shot!
>Something else.

>>974327
>>I don't know. I hope so. This job was ambitious.

>>974327
>I don't know. I hope so. This job was ambitious.
Johnny boy is good, but I don't know if he's THAT good.

"I don't know. I hope so. This job was ambitious. Audacious. Maybe reckless. Breaking into the fortified stronghold of an international crime syndicate? Looting their primary cash reserve? Johnny's good, but I don't know if he's that good."

"We did everything we could from here," Burn says. "The security in the building was totally locked down. I even got to pretend to be a 9-1-1 operator when we intercepted that call. It's out of our hands now, Zero. All we can do it wait until--"

A phone rings, startling both of you. It's the secure line you set up so the heist crew can contact you. You and Burn look at each other, and you step forward and pick up the phone. "H-hello?"

"Zero?" asks a female voice, distorted by a low-quality phone. "Is that you? It's Alex!"

"Alex, right," you say, remembering the professional-looking badass by Johnny's side on his visit to your old lair. "What's going on? Is the job done? Did you guys escape?"

"No, I mean, yes, but ..." You hear her take a breath to compose herself. "We did the job and escaped. The Yamadas are covering our tracks. But Johnny. He ... he fell, Zero. From the roof. Twenty-five stories."

For a long moment, you don't understand her. Then her words snap into focus. Your heart tightens in your chest. "That's bullshit," you say, unable to believe it. "He couldn't--"

"He did, Zero!" snaps Alex. "Look, I-I need you to focus, okay? I need you to do your hacker shit. Search the hospitals, jails, anything about the Triads. Find out anything you can about where he might be be. He's going to need us."

"Alex," you say. "If Johnny fell from that high ..."

>He must be dead.
>Could he still be alive?
>Never mind. I'll do it.
>Something else.

>>974327
>I'm sure they're escaping and everything is fine.

>>974361
>He must be dead.
There's no way.
>Never mind. I'll do it.
We'll do it anyways, Johnny's our friend, and if there's the SLIGHTEST CHANCE that he might be alive, we'll take it.

>>974361
>Never mind. I'll do it.

>>974361
>>Never mind. I'll do it.

>>974361
>Never mind. I'll do it.

>>974367
>>974372
>>974376
>>974390


"He must be ..." There's no way, you tell yourself. No way. But if there's even the slightest chance. "Never mind. I'll do it."

"Thanks, Zero," says Alex. "I knew I could count on you. I'll be in touch." She hangs up.

You hang up the phone and turn to Burn. "We've got work to do. To battle stations."

"Let's do it," she says. "What should we target?"

Choose 2:
>Local police records
>Local hospital records
>Triad computer network
>FBI files: Triads

>>974391
>>Triad computer network
>>FBI files: Triads

>>974391
>Local hospital records
>Triad computer network

>>974391

>Local hospital records
>Triad computer network

The hospitals are the only place someone in Johnny's condition could be in, and the Triads will be buzzing after what happened.

>>974391
>Local hospital records
>Triad computer network
IIRC, we managed to keep the police from getting involved. If the FBI got involved, they were really fucking quiet about it.

That means Johnny's either in Triad custody, in a hospital bed, or somewhere else in a hospital.

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>>974410
"There are only two places Johnny could be in his condition," you say, trying to stay practical. "A hospital, or in Triad custody. I'll check the Triad comms and network. You check the hospitals for anyone of his description. You remember what he looks like?"

"I could hardly forget," she says with a bit of snark.

"Right," you say, remembering that Johnny introduced himself to her by invading her home and snatching her. "He's a good guy, really. This will be worth it. Check those hospitals, and I'll get onto the Triads."

You sit down at the borrowed rig, crack your knuckles, and set to work. You've been keeping tabs on the fledgling network of computers and private phone lines being created by the local Tong, to bypass international communcation snooping and secretly coordinate activity with their Triad overlords in China. It's got pretty good security, good enough to keep the feds out. But they never counted on Zero Crash.

Roll a d10 to hack the planet.

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>974431

>>974431

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>974431
And then I ruined everything.

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>974431

I've got to take off for a bit for more holiday stuff. These dice rolls are looking pretty good. I'll be back later, and then we'll see what you find in the Triads' computers. Thanks for playing so far.

>>974447
Thanks, and no problem b0ss, with a story as interesting as this, I can't help but keep coming back.

>>974447
No problem, bossman. Now go drink some eggnog or something festive.

>>974447
Thank you for running the quest for us!

inb4 we find embarrassing photos of ___Zero__

>>974434

You log onto the Internet and find the Triad's primitive network. You get in, without any trouble at all. There's a lot of activity right now, so you have no problem posing as a user. Far more activity than usual, in fact--

"Son of a bitch," you say. "The Triad network is lighting up. They already know about the heist. Already have more troops at the tower. How is that possible? My red box should have intercepted any phone calls. Did it not work?"

"It did work," says Burn. "We caught that call earlier. There must be something else. Some kind of super-secret phone line that's not in the blueprints, or some kind of radio communicator we couldn't detect. All of that would've been fried by the EMP," she adds, "which means ..."

"They would have had to call it in before the bomb went off," you finish. "Damn. I thought the gang was in the clear up until then. Somebody must have seen them and got a call out, without us realizing. Damn it!"

"It's okay, Zero--"

"It's not okay! We fucked up! Communications blocking was our job, and somehow a call got out anyway. And now--"

"Now," snaps Burn, cutting you off. "You have to figure out if the Triads have your friend. Stay focused!"

"Y-you're right," you say, shaking it off. You type furiously. "Intercepting communications now." You put on a set of large headphones and start dialing through the Triad phone calls you can find on the grid. Most of it is in Mandarian, an indecipherable nonsense to you. You cycle through the calls, finally finding one in English:

(Continued)

>>974441

"--is unacceptable from your organization," says a smooth male voice, polite, precise. "Tell Mr. Lau that if he wishes to continue to enjoy our organization's favor, there can be no further mistakes. No further embarassments like this.

The other man speaks, deep-voiced, like an earthquake. "Mr. Lau does not take orders from you. The Dragon is his own master. We will deal with this our way."

"Your building is in flames," continues the first voice, patiently. "The news organizations will be all over this. Do you understand what this means for us? If you fail to hold up your end of the bargain, my employer will be forced to send me to deal with it. And you don't want that."

"We are not afraid. Of you, or your boss, or your company. We will hunt the people who wronged us, but not for you. And they will pay for it in blood. And our arrangement will continue, because it profits both of us. That is what you people care about, yes? The "bottom line.""

"Just make it happen." The call terminates.

That ... sounded important. But still nothing about Johnny. Son of a bitch.

(Continued)

>>974445

Wait. This, here. A new entry in a database, added just a few seconds ago. You've been trying to figure out what this list means, a list of names and dates and numbers. It's some sort of vital statistics chart, with numbers that might be height and weight. A new entry for a "John Doe" with a significant height and weight has just been checked in to the database. Not every day you see someone that type of size. Just about the size of your pal Johnny ...

You don't know for sure what this chart is referencing. It could just be some sort of kill-list where the Triads record people they've killed. But what if it was some sort of private, off-the-books hospital?

An alert flares up in the corner of your screen. Then another. And more. They're onto you! Shit!

You don't know where this place is, the actual physical location the database is referencing. You could find out in just a few seconds. But the alerts--

"What are you doing?!" shouts Burn, scrambling over. "They've got IDS on you! Unplug now!"

"But I could just--" This guy who might be Johnny, his location is right there--

"Unplug it now!" she demands. "This is my home, Zero! You want Triads to kick down my door and cut my head off? Don't make me regret helping you!"

>Stay online: You have to find Johnny. No matter what.
>Unplug: You can't screw over Burn. You'll find another way.

>>975483
Unplug: You can't screw over Burn. You'll find another way.

>>975483
>Stay online: You have to find Johnny. No matter what.

Sorry about this, get packing.

>>975483
>Unplug: You can't screw over Burn. You'll find another way.
Rule 1 is never screw over your partner on the current venture: that's how you get a bad rap AND a short life.

Although, we WILL be pissy about abandoning Johnny.

You have to choose. Johnny's location is right there in front of you. But there's no time. "Dammit!" You sever the connection, kill the program, and pull the plugs out of the computer. "Ffffuuuuuuck!" you shout at the blank computer screen. It stares back at you, implacable.

You take a breath, look over to see Burn watching you, concerned. You say, "Sorry, Burn. I got carried away. You're my partner right now, and I can't put you in danger. We'll find another way."

"I get that he means a lot to you," she says. "We'll figure something out."

That's if he's still alive, you don't add. Is a height and weight that might be Johnny's, added at a certain time to a database, really evidence? It's all you've got right now.

>Tell the heist crew you think the Triads have Johnny.
>Wait until you have more information.

>>975573
Other: Tell them what we have, see if we can get some ideas on how we might confirm.

>>975594
seconded

>>975594
>>975631

You dial up Ken's house on the secure line, wondering just what you're going to tell them. As the phone rings, you decide to just tell them what you have. Maybe they'll have some ideas.
A woman picks up the phone. The cultured voice of the boss lady, Catherine. "Who is this?" she asks.

"It's Zero. You know, the computer guy?"

"Of course. Zero. Have you been made aware of our mutual friend's ... situation?"

"Yeah, I heard. I'm doing what I can on my end. Haven't given up on him just yet. I heard a few things that might be interesting, but there's one thing specifically. It's not much, but it's something. A few minutes after this all went down, I noticed a new entry in a Triad secure database. It's a list of people and dates, along with vital stats: names, heights, weights, blood types, and so on. And the new entry, marked with today's date, was for a pretty big guy. Maybe about the size of our friend."

"I see. Do you have any other information on this list of people? A location, a company name?"

"I ... I'm afraid not. I almost got compromised. Had to end the hack. Maybe I can try again later."

"Please do, Mr. Crash. I will talk to my associates and contacts, and see what I find myself. In the meantime, I suggest not relaying this information to Alex. We need her focusing on getting the job squared away, and making sure our tracks are covered. It won't do anybody any good if that woman goes tearing up half the city looking for him. For now, leave this information to me. Good evening, Mr. Crash." She hangs up.

You look at the phone in your hand.

It sounded cold, but maybe Catherine really does have Johnny's best interests in mind. If Alex did go tearing up half the city looking for Johnny, it would bring down the heat. The cops might find the trail of the heist crew. The Triads might see her coming, and set a trap.

On the other hand, Johnny might be in danger right now, as you're thinking this. And from what you know of Alex, if anyone can track that man down in this jungle of a city, it would be her.

"Hey," you say to Burn. "We have the number for that warehouse, right? The one where Alex and the Yamadas should be at now, getting the cash stored."

"Yeah," she says. "Why?"

>Call Alex, tell her.
>Call Alex, don't tell her.
>Don't call.
>Something else.

>>975763
>>Don't call.
We need to start working. See if we can do some digging on possible spots those fuckers would put a hospital on the sly.

>>975763
Don't call. Gotta keep working and make sure our pals aren't being tracked.

>>975763
>Call Alex, tell her.

>>975763
>Move Burn and all her stuff back to our lair and continue hacking in Burn's even if they ID our location they wouldn't suspect we are going to back to a place they shot up.

>>975763
>Don't call.
There's no reason to contact them. If we do call and don't say anything important, Alex, and possibly everyone else as well, will latch onto the fact that we aren't saying what we know, and they'll turn themselves into a problem that we don't want or need.

>>976080
No, good god no. The human mindset leads people to not like straying from home, especially when they're in danger. If we flee Burn's place and the Triad raids it after we're gone, the first thing they will do is put eyes on our old place.

We do need a fallback shelter though, preferably something not in use by anyone we know, and that neither of us have ever been in before. It won't be comfortable, but it will be safer than going home.

>>975763
>Find a fallback shelter somewhere we can hide in case we got found out while looking for Johnny

>>975796
>>975871
>>976427
>>976467


"Never mind," you say.

If you tell Alex, Nick, and the Yamada boys what you've found out, they might do something silly. Become part of the problem and not the solution. Catherine seems like a skilled operator, one who knows when it's necessary to keep secrets, so you'll trust her judgement for now.

"We have to keep working," you continue. "Gotta make sure our pals aren't being tracked, and dig up some possible spots these fuckers might have a hospital on the sly."

"Why would they take him to their own hospital, though?" asks Burn. "If they found him and he was alive, wouldn't they just put a bullet in his brain, right then and there? Why give him medical attention?"

"I get the feeling that Johnny has really, really pissed these guys off. If they had the opportunity to capture him and keep him alive, prolong his suffering, kill him slowly ... I get the feeling they might take it."

"He seems like a charming man, to have so many friends."

"He's a good guy once you get to know him. Look, Burn, do you have any sort of fallback shelter we could go? I agreed not to compromise your place here, but I can't give up on Johnny. I have to keep working on this."

"Well ..." Burn thinks about it. "I guess I can show you. It's not what I'd call comfortable or convenient. But I've used it before when I had to. Let's get the van up and running. I'll drive us there."

An rusty old van is in back of the warehouse, stuffed with technological bric-a-brac. The two of you clear out some space inside for your rigs and a small generator. You pull open the garage door for the van, shut it behind as Burn drives through, and get in the passenger's seat. She begins to taking you out of the industrial zone. The stars become visible in the night sky ahead as you leave the lights of the city center behind you, heading out into the outskirts.

You think of things you could say to Burn ...

>Thanks for helping me.
>Where are we headed?
>Why are you doing this? Helping us, I mean.
>After this, I guess you'll have to go back to working for the feds.
>Something else.

Or maybe you should just ...

>Go over the situation in your head, try to make sense of it.

>>978297
>After this, I guess you'll have to go back to working for the feds.
>Why are you doing this? Helping us, I mean.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask. "Helping us, I mean. After this, you're going to go back to working for the feds, right? If they find out you're helping a heist crew on the side, they'll bring down the hammer."

"Yeah, probably."

"So why--"

"Because fuck those guys," she says, angrily. "Because I can do whatever the fuck I want. Because I'm fucking Burn Override, and nobody tells me what to do. Not you, not the Triads, not Uncle Sam. Nobody."

"Okay, okay. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just glad you're on our side. I don't know where I'd be without your--"

"Man, shut up," says Burn, visibly embarassed. She drives for another minute before pulling over to the side of the road and parking. "Here we are."

"Here?" You look around. "Where's "here"? I see a whole lot of nothing. Abandoned lots, construction sites. There's a gravel pit. Is your secret bunker under the gravel pit?"

"Nothing so fancy, I'm afraid," she says. "See the phone box on the utility pole? I keep a linkup handy in there. I deleted it from the city registry, so it's not on any maintenance route. The wrench-heads never check it for anything suspicious."

"That's ... pretty clever," you admit.

"We can plug ourselves in from here in the van," she says. "It'll be a little cramped, but we'll have some privacy, and we can get out of here in a hurry if it comes to that."

It takes you a few minutes to get yourselves hooked up. Then you and Burn go diving into the Triads' network together.

>Roll a d10 to hack.

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>978495

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>978495

>>978513
Fuck yea. Get off work, crack open a beer, look up my favorite quest and roll...a 10.

Their security is tightening, but with the two of you working together, you're able to stay one step ahead of them. The inside of the van is lit only by the glow of your computer screens and the single functioning street lamp nearby.

"This rig is pretty radical," you say. "You make it yourself?"

"Sure did," she says. "Ordered the parts on darknet."

The few of you type in silence for a few moments.

"This is fun," she says. "Doing this together."

"Me too, thanks. I mean -- fuck. You know what I mean." You go back to typing, trying not to feel awkward.

You start exploring the Triads' network. You pull lists of addresses. You hunt through the database you found before. You check some other files, cross-reference. Some of what you find might confirm a hunch you had earlier, a nagging suspicion you didn't want to believe could be real. You find financial records, references to chemical formulas. And then--

"Oh," you say. "Okay. This. This is something Alex should know about."

(Continued)

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>978495
>>978520
Pretty good feel, breh. I feel like thug quest has some of the best plotting of any /qst/ thread, any day. plus, dat soundtrack

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116 KB GIF

>>978520
>>978528

>>978536
Just calling like it is. I'll drink more of this beer as a salute. Since I can't top Big Boss.

>>978528
Totally. I was hooked on day 1.

Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfbdxS9o4j0

The phone rings. "Hello?"

"Alex? Hey, it's Zero. Listen, I was digging through the Triads' network, and I found something. Some kind of hospital or laboratory. And I found the archive of their security footage."

"... go on."

"I got a shot from an outside camera, of a guy being dragged inside on a stretcher. It's definitely our boy. No mistaking that ugly mug, am I right?"

You grip the phone a little tighter. "Do you have an address?"

"Look, don't do anything crazy, okay? Be smart about this. I can't figure out what the hell the Triads are up to at this location, but I don't like what I see."

"I know how to handle myself. Now do you have an address or not?"

Zero gives you an address in The Bairro. "Do what you gotta do. Get our boy out of there."

You hang up the phone. You take out your pack of cigarettes. A pack Johnny gave you, after you bothered him for a smoke one too many times. You open it. Only one cigarette left inside.

You are Alex, once a professional mercenary, now an enforcer for the scum of the earth, the criminal underworld. A few weeks ago, you made the usual mistake that sends your life off track: you felt someone was important enough to try to keep them alive. And for a while there, it looked like you fucked it up this time too.

But not today. Not while there's still a chance.

You pull out the cigarette, light it, breathe out a cloud of smoke. Then you turn to face the rest of the room. Nick, Ken, and Ryuji are all sitting or leaning against something in the dimly-lit garage, watching you.

"What did he say?" asks Nick.

"Security cam footage," you say. "Johnny's in some kind of secret Triad hospital."

"What the fuck?" says Nick. "First of all, how the hell could he even still be alive?"

Ken observes, "It is known that people have survived a fall from an airplane without a parachute. It is possible. If anyone could do it, I'd put my money on a tough son of a bitch like Johnny."

"Okay, okay ... so assuming he's even alive, second of all, why the fuck would the Triads have him in a, what did you call it? "Secret hospital"? Did I hear that right?"

You say, "They want to make an example of him."

"Well, fuck me!" says Nick, exasperated. "Why don't we all rush over there so we can get made examples of too? Come on over to Cleaver-town, everybody! Leave your limbs at the door!"

"Are you suggesting," asks Ken mildly. "That we abandon our comrade to his fate?"

"No, no, I - look, I'm not saying that. I'm just saying we need to be smart about this. We can't just run in and get killed. We need to figure this out."

>No time for a plan. Get your guns. We're going.
>You're right, Nick. We need a plan.
>Ryuji? You've been pretty quiet, what do you think?
>Ken, any strategic wisdom for us?
>Something else.

>>978585
>You're right, Nick. We need a plan.
>>Ryuji? You've been pretty quiet, what do you think?

>>978597
Add some Ken wisdom to that and I'm down. Even Johnny tried to plan.

>>978585
supporting amended >>978601
plan, get ken in on it too

>>978585
>>978609
I'll back that.
I gotta be getting going now, gentlemen. Here's hoping we get to see our favorite cleaver-slinger when I return!

"You're right. We need a plan. Ryuji, you've been pretty quiet. What do you think?"

He says, "I don't have plan. But Johnny is ... tomodachi. Friend. I will fight."

"Good. We'll need your help. Ken, any strategic wisdom for us?"

Ken rubs his beard, thinking. "Hrrrm. It's not an easy situation. The thirty-six strategems say, "Make a sound in the east, then strike in the west." ..."

"So ... we could attack someplace else, draw their attention, and then hit the hospital."

"Right. You might also "toss out a brick to get jade," make them think they have something to gain. Or you could "lure the turtle off its mountain lair." Wait, turtle? That can't be right. Let me see ..."

"Ken, I was really hoping for something a little more concrete."

"Hey, I can quote old books, that doesn't make me some kind of military genius."

You think about your options, and your available resources. There's yourself, Nick the safecracker, Ryuji the ninja, and Ken the ex-yakuza. Enough people to split into teams. Maybe a combination of approaches would be best.

Assign your 4 crew members:

>Assault: Load up on guns and explosives, hit them hard and direct.
>Stealth: Sneak in, stay dark.
>Bait: Try to lure them out with something they want.
>Chaos: Create a violent distraction somewhere else.
>Something else.

>>978687
>Chaos: Create a violent distraction somewhere else.
After the raid, they'll already be on edge and prone to overreaction. We can use this to our advantage

>>978687
>Chaos: Create a violent distraction somewhere else.
Ask Zero for a location that seems important and bomb it

>>978687
Ken and Nick cause some chaos. Or bait em. I figure Nick is resourceful and Ken can watch his back. Then Alex and Ryuji get Johnny stealthily. Ryuji would be good to watch her back.

>>978729
>>978730
>>978752


"What we need," you say. "Is chaos. They're already on the edge. We can use that to our advantage. What's a place that's important to the Triads?"

"There's that restaurant, Red Chicken," says Nick. "They do a lot of money laundering there. Or maybe the backroom poker on Delta. Or that chop shop--"

"One of those places, then. If we draw their attention to someplace else, create a violent distraction, that should give us an opportunity. Pick whichever of those places you want, Nick. You're our distraction team."

"What the hell?" says Nick. "Why me? What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, Nick. Blow it up? You're a resourceful guy. Figure it out. Take Ken. I can at least vouch that he's a good driver, so you'll probably get away safely. Assuming you survive."

"Wonderful," he says. "I'm really glad you've grown to appreciate my contribution to the team."

"I'm going to be sneaking in to the hospital with Ryuji," you reply. "So if you'd rather trade jobs?"

"Distraction it is," he says. "Guess we're rolling together on this one, old man. Hope you're as good as she says you are."

"I'll get you home safe," says Ken.

You look over at your quiet ninja friend. He had your back in the Triad tower. Maybe you can rely on him again. "How about it, Ryuji? You up for sneaking into another secure Triad facility together?"

Ryuji nods. "I am ready."

"All right. No time to waste." You clap your hands together. "Let's get to it, boys. We're going to get Johnny out of that place. Who knows what they're already doing to him in there ..."

Falling.

You remember falling.

Then darkness.

Nothing.

And then ...

What ...?

You are ...

Who are you ...?

You are Johnny the rancher: country man, seasoned rider, respected cattle owner. The sun is rising up over another crisp, clear Montana morning, and the dew is still shining in the grass of Heat Ranch.

"Oh Johnny, my darling!" calls your dear sweetheart Lucy, from the railing of your front porch. "You best get along now and get those steers moving! There's a fine mountain of country breakfast waiting for you when you get back."

You tip your cowboy hat to her. "Thanks, sweet pea. I'll get on that lickety-split. That dadgum heifer is loose again, and I aim to give him what fer. Heeyaw!" You spur your horse into motion, and ride off into the fields, lassoo at the ready.

No.

Wait.

That's not right. Hold on ...

>>978866
Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. We're Johnny but not Johnny.

You are Agent Johnny, international super-spy. Suave, debonair, expert marksman, world traveller, and an excellent dresser, if you do say so yourself. The ladies certainly agree. Especially that one last night. What was she, a ballet star? Gymnast? She certainly was flexible, that much you remember quite well.

You have travelled to an exotic foreign capital, masquerading as a player in a high-stakes poker game to gain access to the international business kingpin. Your partner, Ms. Alex, is going over the plan once more, while fussing over your incredibly expensive suit. "The hidden rifle only has a single bullet. So you'll only have one shot at this, Johnny." She steps forward to straighten your tie, looking up into your eyes. "Are you sure you can do it?"

"Don't worry, my dear," you say with a rakish grin. "I never miss. And may I say, you look quite fetching in that dress. Now where can a chap get a drink around here?"

No ...that's not it either ...

>>978866
Also, clearly this fictional world isn't right with us because Alex is our true sweetheart/waifu. This fairytale stuff isn't in the cards homies.

>>978881
Pfft. Needing a secretary to fuss over us.

You are Detective Johnny, a down-on-your-luck gumshoe, and you already know the dame who walked into your office is up to no good.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Yamada," you tell her. "But it sounds like your father is well within his legal rights."

"Of course he is," says the dark-haired woman. "Why do you think I came to you, and not the police? And please," she adds, taking a cigarette holder out of her purse. "Call me Catherine."

You light the cigarette for her, and with a dramatic exhaling of smoke--

Fuck--

Aaaarrghshitfuckfuckfuckaaaaahhh--

>>978891
Hah. US obeying the law in any way. Pfft.

>>978866
>>978881
>>978891
I'd easily join in on any of these quests... though rancher quest seems to be the best

You feel someone slapping your face. The good news is it doesn't hurt so much. The bad news is that's only by comparison, because every other part of your body hurts more. You feel like a giant pinata, smashed by ten thousand baseball bats.

Some weird dreams are passing. You remember something about falling. And then ...

Light. You try to open your eyes, but you're blinded by intense light from above. Then you sense a shadow fall across the light, and squint. Someone is standing over you, and they reach out to slap you again --

"Fuck off," you growl.

"Hey!" says a female voice, enthusiastic. "There he is! Wakey wakey! Come back to me, cowboy!"

Your vision slowly swims into focus. The shadow in front of you resolves into ...

>>978905
Unless it's Alex or our Bro Ryuji calling us that fuck off.

File: scary girl.png (832 KB, 1024x1357)

832 KB PNG

"You?!" you say.

"That was crazy, cowboy," says the girl. The fighter girl, the Z-addict, from the bar. "That stuff got right on top of you! You were saying some fucked up stuff. Something about a ranch in Montana." She grins, manically, shoves her face close to yours. "Wish I had a video camera."

"You ... what ... what happened ... aaahhh fuck ... every part of my body hurts."

"I dunno what happened to you, man. You look pretty fucked up. But I'm gonna tell you two things I know one. Hundred. Percent right now. Absolutely certain. Okay? You ready?"

"Uh ... yeah, ready."

"One: I'm busting out of this fucking place right now."

"Okay ..."

"Two: You're going to help me."

You try to laugh, but your body protests in agony. "Are you kidding? If I remember right, I just got shot and fell off a building. I feel like a big sack of broken glass. I can't believe I'm alive. I'd like to help you, lady, but I'm not going anywhere for a while."

"That's where you're wrong, cowboy. I've got the wonders of modern medicine right here to help you. Uncle Sam's finest cocktail. Z!" She holds a syringe into your view, filled with a dark purple liquid. "This will make you feel like the Incredible fuckin' Hulk no matter how beat to shit you are."

>Okay. Let's do it.
>Are you crazy? No way.
>W-wait, let's talk about this--

>>978914
>W-wait, let's talk about this--

>>978914
No goddamn way lady.

>>978914
>No way lady.

"No goddamn way, lady," you say, eyeing the syringe with fear. "I don't do drugs, or at least I don't do that one--"

The woman's cheerful demeanor instantly vanishes, replaced with barely contained fury. "Did I give you the impression I was ASKING, motherfucker?!" She strikes the table next to your head. "Stupid fucking piece of shit I should just fucking gut you -- hrrrngh fuck --"

She staggers back, grimaces, clutches her head. "Sorry. They've been pumping so much of the shit into me that I can't think straight. I enjoy a little Z trip now and then, but this is not cool ..." She retches, throws up on the floor with a wet splattering sound. "Ugh. Sorry. Okay." She wipes her mouth off. "I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. Maybe you haven't realized the gravity of your situation. For example, do you realize you're tied up?"

"I'm what?" You test your arms and legs. You are, in fact, restrained heavily. "Shit."

"And did you realize," says the girl. "That this isn't a hospital? That you're a Triad prisoner in a fucking hellscape nightmare? And that your only way out of here is with me."

"A hellscape what? Where am I? What is this place?"

"I don't even know, man. It's some kind of laboratory. They're doing experiments and shit. Stuff with Z. I haven't been here long, but I've seen some shit. People strung up with needles and tubes all stuck over. People gone totally insane. And some other things ... things I don't even want to talk about.

"Look," she says. "I want to take you with me, but I'm not carrying dead weight. You're not going anywhere like that. But with the Z, you can walk. You can fight. Take some now, and get fucking pumped, and come with me, and bust out of here. Or you can stay here, as the Triad's prisoner, and get pumped full of inhuman doses of Z, and be their guinea pig bitch, and then die. Your call."

>Let's do it.
>I'll take my chances here.
>Maybe there's another way ... (Write-in)

>>978949
My team is coming for me. We have a badass assassin/mercenary, a ninja samurai dude and two hackers. Plus a yakuza that can fly anything. Get me outta here.

>>978949
>>Let's do it.
"Goddamn it. I just wanted my fucking ranch."

>>978949
>How about you untie me first and ascertain how fucked up I am before you pump some shit into me

>>978949
Lady, that Z ain't gonna splice bones back together. It ain't gonna put my organs back where they should be. I fell off a goddamn building. I stand up, most likely next thing i'll be laying in is a coffin. Now, why don't you untie me and check to see that the important bits are still where they're supposed to be, otherwise I'll take my chances waiting for my team.

>>978954
seconding

>>978952
you would do medium in an interrrogation anon

>>978964
Less an interrogation tactic and more getting an unhinged drug addict off our back. Besides, I ain't seein other decent suggestions mister guantanimo bay.

>>978965
qq faggot

>>978971
Sure schooled me pal.

>>978953
>>978954
>>978960

Goddamn it, you think. I just wanted my fucking ranch.

"How about you untie me first, and we ascertain how fucked up I am," you say. "Then maybe you can pump some shit into me."

"Okay, no problem, we can start with that," she says. "I'm just trying to get you on your feet is all. If you're good to go, okay, sure. Just say the word when you need a little pick-me-up." She starts to undo your restraints. "Just keep in mind I couldn't carry your big ass even if I wanted to--"

She freezes as the door's deadbolt unlocks. The knob turns.The door begins to open ...

To Be Continued:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Tdu4uKSZ3M#t=0m40s

>>978994
>>978996
Hot damn, missed another thread. Thanks for running boss!

god damned cliffhangers