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In the year 1986, crime in America is at an all-time high. Criminals, drugs, and guns flow into the country from everywhere in the world, and the gateway to it all is the coastal paradise, Heat City. On the neon-soaked streets of this beating heart of scum and villany, you can get whatever you want -- if you can pay the price.

You are Johnny the thug, and ever since you agreed to take one small job for the Bratva, your life has gone sideways. One thing led to another as you made enemies of one half of the city's underworld, then the other half. With the help of some new friends -- Alex the enforcer, Nick the thief, and the Yamada family -- you went all-in and led a daring heist on the Triad's skyscraper fortress, Dragon's Nest. It went great until you got shot and fell off the roof, twenty-five stories down.

With luck or fate on your side, and the help of your friends, you survived to tell the tale. But you haven't forgotten that someone out there has been playing games with you, pitting the city's criminal syndicates against each other with you caught in the middle. You're going to find out who it is, and make them pay.
>>
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>>2693728

Updates: http://twitter.com/ravenkingquests

Previous Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Thug%20Quest

Discord: https://discord.gg/3HegtNU
>>
>>2693735
EEEeeeeeeeeeee
>>
>>2693735
Roxie isn't on the map, did she died?
>>
>>2693772
She's alive, just homeless. Her temporary residence in your guest room has turned out to be not-so-temporary.
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>>2693772
She lives with us....or whatever bench she crashed on outside a bar.
>>
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>>2693728


It's been a little while since the swamp thing. The airboat chase, the sniper duel, and everything. Seeing as a big chunk of metal speared you in the chest when your airboat exploded, your only real option since then has been to sit around healing while the crew takes care of stuff.


Your injuries are starting to catch up with you. Your once-broken leg still hurts if you stand on it wrong. Your chest and stomach are covered in dark bruises from the gunshots your vest absorbs. You have over a dozen new scars to add to the collection, including a couple you didn't even know about. The ugly diagonal line travelling down your ribs from the fan blade chunk and Inch's hasty surgical work is impressively gruesome.

How long can you keep this up? How long is a human body, even one such as yours, physically possible of maintaining this?

You don't know.

But you won't stop. You won't run away from this.

Not now. Not ever. Not until the end.

That said, you have to be realistic about things. You don't know how many fights you have left in you. So you've got to take care of business. This beef with the Triads you've gotten tangled up in? Time for the big job that will finish it, and them, permanently. Time to end this.

(Continued)
>>
>>2693858


"Of course, by doing that," Nick says. "you'll be clearing out Ivan's competitors and essentially handing over control of the city to the Bratva. Ah, fuck!" He stops to look at the bottom of his shoe with disgust on his face. "Chrissake, people, if you're gonna walk your dog then clean up. What happened to this neighborhood? Look at this place! Everything's gone to shit."

You have to agree. Even just walking down the streets you can see the signs. The obvious things like graffiti, trash, broken windows, shuttered businesses, gangs of toughs in tracksuits lounging in alleys and on stoops. The Russians control this district now, and it's all the worse for it.

Nick buys a newspaper and a pack of cigarettes from a newstand. The headlines these days are saying that street violence, always bad in Heat City, has reached new heights. From the ongoing gang wars, but also from drug crimes. The price of Z is skyrocketing now that supplies are disrupted. Addicts desperate to score resort to theft and robbery, and ordinary citizens are increasingly put in danger.

You can't help but wonder if you're responsible for this.

Nick tucks the newspaper under his arm as he lights a cigarette. "I'm not sure about all this, Johnny. The Triads were bad guys, but they left people alone if they paid their protection money on time. There was stability around here. The Bratva just don't seem to give a shit, especially now that Ivan's in charge. When his dad was around they had some restraint, but now? Ivan lets them off the hook to do whatever they want. No consequences." You hear the crash of breaking windows, and look across the street to see some tracksuits laughing as they smash up a storefront with aluminum bats. Nick gestures in their direction, cigarette in hand. "See what I mean?"

"What are you getting at?" you ask him.

He shrugs. "I don't know. The Triads got a big bounty on your head, I get that. You gotta take down their boss, I get that. But you'll be handing the city over to Ivan on a silver platter. I just don't know, man."

>Doesn't matter. We take them all down.
>Maybe you're right. Maybe we should refocus.
>I'll think about it.
>Write-in
>>
>>2693877
>Doesn't matter. We take them all down.
>>
>>2693877
>>Doesn't matter. We take them all down.
Maybe the Cubans will fill the hole. And there's always Cat.
>>
>>2693877
>Doesn't matter. We take them all down.
Vietnam was an unwinnable war, here, here we got open targets to break. Removing the cancers at their source is the best bet.
>>
>>2693877
>>Maybe you're right. Maybe we should refocus.
>>
>>2693877
>>2693881
>>2693889
>>2693971

"It doesn't matter," you say. "We take them all down."

Roxie slams her glass back down on the scratched and knife-carved table. "Exactly!" she shouts over the music and chaotic din of the rough-and-tumble crowd. "We're gonna fuck them all right up! Punch 'em in the face! Yeah!"

"And you're still on board, even though this is crazy dangerous?"

"Of course! I got a bone to pick with these Triad assholes as well, remember? They grabbed me and tried to use me for drug tests, same as you. So fuck 'em."

"What about after the Triads are done? I'm not stopping there. Ivan and the Russians are the real targets, and Kojiro and his Yakuza boys will be coming for us too. They all come next. Are you sure you want to stick around?"

"Hell yeah, Johnny. You want to know why? It's not complicated. It's 'cause it's fun, and 'cause I like you. People want to fuck you up, I'll fuck them up." She grins and leans forward to push her finger into your chest. "And then you get to be in charge! Johnny the King!"

"Not me," you say with a laugh, gently removing her jabbing finger. "I'm not doing this to be the king. Cat can be queen if she wants. I'm not interested. I just want to get back to my life so I can have a quiet drink in places like -- just where the hell is this?" You look around at huge guys in patched leather jackets, chrome, banners on the walls. "Did you bring me to a biker bar?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, I like this place. I get to drink here for free."

"Free? Why's that?"

"Cause we're friends! These guys are great!" She waves magnanimously with her glass, spilling half of it, at the nearby bikers, who give her the side-eye as they edge away.

"You got into a fight here, huh?"

"I mean, it wasn't a real fight. I was just playing around." She finishes off what remains of her drink, oblivious to the looks of fear and apprehension surrounding her. "So what's next?"

"Next is the big job," you say. "The big boss. The head honcho. The Triad Dragon. We've killed enough of their mid-level leadership that without him, they're done. The Russians will crush what's left, and the survivors will scatter. All we have to do is figure out how to kill the most protected man in the city."

"How do you figure we'll do that?"

"We'll start with where," you say. "From what I know about his habits, our best place to hit him is--"

>His house.
>In transit.
>On the water.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2694212
>In transit.
>>
>>2694212
>>In transit.
House and boat are too well guarded.
>>
>>2694212
>On the water.
>>
>>2694212
>Transit
We've been in enough ambushes in 'nam to know how to set a good one
>>
>>2694212
>Transit

>>2694266
Wait for his superiors to tell him everything is fine and the area is clear.
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>>2694279
>The Yakuza leader's superior
>>
>>2694310
Doesn't he have some over seas or something?
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>>2694312
Probably actually, he may also be complacent from his rank (nobody having the balls to attack him)
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>>2694310
You do realise what we're currently doing is planning the hit on the Triad boss and not choosing another target right?
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>>2694212
>>2694228
>>2694239
>>2694266
>>2694279

"-- in transit. His house, the yacht, too well guarded. We'll figure out his movements, get set up, and when he leaves in that big motorcade of his? Boom." You shoot a finger-gun at Ryuji, who nods politely as he picks up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks. Picking up your own chopsticks, you ask him, "How the fuck do you use these things, anyway? Every time I try to pick something up with them it goes flying off." You demonstrate by clumsily stabbing at your own sushi platter.

"With practice," Ryuji says. "My uncle said he forgot after too long in America. Too many hamburgers."

"You could probably use a few hamburgers. Put some meat on those bones. Just don't get fat like your uncle." You sigh, toss aside the chopsticks aside, and pick up a fork. "Don't get me wrong, I love Japanese food, I just wish you people would learn to use real utensils."

"Perhaps one day we'll educate you westerners on their superiority," Ryuji says, expertly fishing out a dumpling from the soup.

"Ever think you'll go back?"

"Where? Japan?" He shrugs. "I don't know. My sister is here. My uncle is here. My father is dead. That's the list of everything important to me. Other than my big scarred idiot of a friend, and his gang of fools."

"So what does that make you?" you ask, grinning.

"A fool. I consider that an improvement over the life I had waiting for me."

You never really had a chance to ask him or Catherine about that. Just what happened between them and their father to cause such a rift? Who were they before they came to Heat City? Ryuji moves on before you have a chance to bring it up. "So. In transit it is."

"Right," you say, thinking you'll ask some other time. "On some lonely industrial road we'll set up an ambush, and them hit them hard. I just need to figure out the specifics -- and how loud we're going to get. The more firepower we use, the better chance we'll have of taking out the Dragon and all his goons without any trouble, but the more noise we'll make. Attacking out in the open like this will draw serious attention from Heat City's finest. We'll have to be ready."

Your crew has never had to take on HCPD directly. Their SWAT teams are no joke, and rumor has it they've been working on a specialized heavy response team. In addition to the direct danger, there's the fact that cop killers bring down on themselves a whole new level of wrath from law enforcement. You got away clean from the FBI job because you scrambled the security. This would be unavoidable. So maybe a minimum of noise would be good.

Of course, if you don't hit the Triads hard enough, the HCPD won't matter because the Triads will kill you.

Ryuji says, "So what do you think? Quiet isn't really an option, is it? We're looking at loud--"

"Or extra loud," you finish for him. Maybe there's some other way you haven't thought of, but those are the obvious choices.

>Loud
>Extra loud
>Extra-extra-extra loud
>Write-in
>>
>>2694447
>>Extra-extra-extra loud
>Extra-extra-extra loud
>>
>>2694447
>>Extra-extra-extra loud
Did someone say tank?
>>
>>2694447
>Extra loud
>>
>>2694447
>Extra-extra-extra loud
>>
>>2694340
I was responding to the comment immediately above that one
>>
>>2694463
Ditto
Don't we have a mortar?
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>>2694447
>>2694463
>>2694465
>>2694514
>>2694580


"There is a third option," you admit. "I guess you can call that the extra-extra-extra loud option. How the hell did you find a tank for me, anyway?"

"I have my sources," Zero says, not looking up from his screen. His fingers dance over the clacking keyboard. "Cold War's winding down. USSR's crumbling, which is why we have all these KGB assholes on our streets. Military on both sides will be cutting the fat. Milsurp is going to be big business real soon. If you have the right connections, just about anything is on the market. Might be a good investment opportunity." He glances at you. "What do you think? Once this is over maybe we go into arms dealing?"

"Maybe," you say. "I don't know. I still think sometimes I should get the hell out of the city and find that ranch in Montana."

"Pfft. You'd be too bored out there. Only thing to punch is cattle and drunken rednecks. You need action, Johnny. You were born in Heat City like me. You belong here." Zero says that like it's a compliment, but you still hear the unspoken ending, the part he doesn't say: And you'll die here.

Zero turns back, the reflection from the screen shining on his glasses. "If you want to take the Dragon in transit, I can help you out from here with traffic lights, police comms, any local surveillance."

"Sure you don't want to try field work?" you tease him.

"Please. I barely go outside for supplies. Someday we'll do our shopping on computers, and it'll all be delivered right to our doorstep. How cool will that be?"

"I seriously doubt any of this computer wizard future you talk about will happen, Zero, but for your sake I hope it does. I don't plan on having anything to do with it. Pretty sure I can still break computers just by touching them."

"That's why you have me," Zero says. "I'll prepare for the job. Contact us when your plans are in place."

"Us?"

"Uhhmm -- Burn Override and I have decided to form, uhhhm, a business parternship, under strict terms of -- ow!"

You slug him playfully in the shoulder. "I knew it!" you say. "You sly dog. You two hooked up. When's the wedding? Will it be in real life or in your virtual computer world?"

Zero's face turns red. "My personal life is irrelevant to this mission--"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just giving you a hard time, pal. Good luck with the lady." You give him a more gentle shoulder-pat and then pick yourself up out of the seat. You wince as your once-broken leg twinges and your ribs pulse with pain, but you refuse to use a cane anymore. You shuffle out the door of Zero's hideout and into the car.

(Continued)
>>
>>2694659

"Where to, chief?" asks Adeline from the driver's seat.

As your everyday activites are once again painfully difficult, you're glad the twins are still around to act as your gofers as you hobble about. They chatter excitedly to you about their "adventure" in the swamp, share stories with each other about what they saw you or Alex do, and hope to get an opportunity next time to kill someone themselves.

Of course, they're only alive because Alex came through in the clutch again and somehow took out Forest on her own with only a pistol. One mistake and that sniper would've killed her. Then you. And then probably the twins as well. Maybe they don't understand how close they came to death. Maybe they don't care. Either way, you feel conflicted about having intentionally taken them in danger, and whether there will be a "next time" for them at all.

As for your own situation, several weeks of enforced rest and recovery, the problem -- or one problem, cause there's a lot of them -- is that someone knows where you live. Those Cuban hitmen who showed up got taken out like chumps, seeing as there were four murder-happy friends in the house with you. But the thing is, they had surveillance photographs of your house, given to them by someone else. The question is who took those photos, and more important right now, what to do about it.

You got used to the old manor house out by the swamp. You were comfortable. But comfort is a good way to get yourself killed. A secondary residence where you can lay low might be the right move. You have enough cash to rent a nice place, or buy a cheap one. So you:

>Found a nice apartment to rent. Nobody will expect it.
>Found a cheap place to buy. Somewhere out of the way.
>Fuck that. You stayed in the manor and fortified.
>Write-in
>>
>>2694677
>Build a trench deeper in the swamp near your manor
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>>2694677
>>Found a cheap place to buy. Somewhere out of the way.
Swamps can't have trenches
>>
>>2694730
Ditto, maybe an old cold war bunker or something
Also, we should buy an old missile silo that the government doesn't use anymore for our retirement
>>
>>2694677
>>2694730
>>2694790


Adeline takes you to the docks in South Harbor. You bought a small warehouse which was halfway converted into residential lofts before being abandoned by the developers -- something about the district being infested with criminals.

You've set yourself up in one of these lofts with an old couch, a fridge, a television set, a mattress on the floor, and a few other necessities. You crack yourself open a beer, sit down heavily on the couch, and turn on the TV.

Adeline has followed you in. She hops into the other seat on the couch and scooches up next to you. You look down at her, and she looks back up at you with an innocent face.

"You need something?" you ask her. "Don't you have things to do? Whatever crazy murder-girl things you do when I'm not around?"

She shrugs.

"Where's your sister?"

"She has things to do," Adeline says. "Crazy murder-girl things." She grins. "Can I have a beer?"

"No."

She pouts. "You never let us do anything."

"I just let you come on a dangerous mission!" you protest. "You were shot at! Your sister drove an airboat at high speed through the swamp! Alex said she told you to execute the wounded! How many people did you kill then?"

Adeline counts on her fingers. "Seven? Seven that I know of. I don't know if I hit anything when I was shooting earlier. Alex was too fast for me, she blasted them all." She turns and grabs your wrist, and looks at you with shining eyes. "Alex is super cool! She killed three of the Elements! Three!"

You smile into your beer. They could do worse for heroes to worship. Better her than you, anyway. "Yeah, she's something. I lost track of the number of times I would've died without her."

(Continued)
>>
>>2694968


"What's Alex been doing?" Adeline asks. "I haven't seen her since the swamp. I heard she killed Water but I didn't hear how."

"She's been busy." You heard about her extra job for Cat. The fancy party that turned bloody. If you're honest with yourself, you were a little envious of her for killing Water. You wanted to get your hands on that bitch yourself. That look of supreme cruelty, the joy she found in watching you fall off that skyscraper roof with her bullet in your stomach, is something you'll never forget. You wanted to choke the life out of that bitch with your own hands. But Alex took vengeance for you, and it sounds like it was painful. You suppose that's okay. "She did a job for Cat and got shot doing it, so she's recovering, like me."

Adeline nods. She waits a few moments in silence. Then she says, "Are you and Alex going to get married?"

You spit out your beer in surprise. "Where did this come from?"

"Well, you two are always together, and she's in love with you, so --"

"Wait wait wait -- Alex is NOT in love with me, all right? That's crazy. She just --" You think about Alex, always there for you, the way she lights cigarettes for you, the way she knows what you need before you know yourself. "-- she just wants to help me take down Ivan. She wants revenge, and to figure out who's behind it all, like me."

Adeline raises her eyebrows and gives you a smug smile. "Really?"

You can feel the condescension like a physical force. "Really," you say, trying to put some confidence into it.

"Okay, tough guy," she says, using Alex's nickname for you. "Whatever you say."

"Go get me another beer," you growl. Adeline gets up and comes back from the fridge with two beers. "Hey, come on -- what did I just say?"

She gives you the puppy eyes.

"Aw geez. All right, all right, fine."

She cracks it open, takes a big drink, and grins up at you with foam on her upper lip. You sigh and wipe it off for her. "You're a real handful even without your sister, you know that?"

You turn the TV channel to Zaltron. Together with Adeline on the couch in your warehouse loft hideout, you watch colorful space robots battle. Outside, the sky begins to turn pink as the sun sets. Soon you'll call up the crew and start work planning the hit on the Dragon's motorcade. But for now you have a moment to enjoy this.
>>
>>2694985

That's all for tonight, folks. I'll continue tomorrow, so be sure to tune in then for more Thug Quest!
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>>2694992
Later boss.
>>
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>>2694985


Over the new few weeks as your wounds heal, you spend a lot of time in your unfinished industrial warehouse loft. You don't leave much, or receive visitors, since you're trying to avoid attention. Instead you stand by the window with the phone in your hand, looking out at the view of derelict smokestacks and a glimpse of the water of the bay, setting things up with the crew and directing their efforts to prep for the job.

You've been realizing that this is bigger and bolder than anything you've ever done before. Best case scenario, where everything wraps up before the police get involved, you'll be driving a tank through the middle of Heat City and going up against the best soldiers the Triad has to offer. And if things get worse, you may have to open up on HCPD to escape. It's going to be a war zone out there. No way it's going to get swept under the radar. Everyone will hear there was a tank assault in the middle of an American city. Your photos will be on international news.

Guess you better make sure everyone has a good mask. That, and in case it doesn't go so well, funeral plans.

So what did you get the crew to work on? More setup means more expenses, but the money's probably worth your life. There's still enough money from the Dragon's Nest heist to facilitate things, it's just a matter of time, attention, and favors.

Choose up to 3:
>Obtain rocket launchers
>Buy a truck to get the tank in position without being detected
>Bulletproof a car to escort the tank
>Hire rooftop snipers
>Hire foot soldiers
>Hire observers
>Write-in
>>
>>2697287
>Obtain some serious body protection
>Obtain anti tank rifles
>Hire foot soldiers
>>
>>2694985
Alex is the best.
>>
>>2697287
>Buy a truck to get the tank in position without being detected
>Obtain rocket launchers
>Obtain some serious body protection
>>
>>2697287
>Buy a truck to get the tank in position without being detected
>Bulletproof a car to escort the tank
>Hire observers
We just need to nail this fucker once, ignore the rest of his followers he has with him, and get the fuck away. So people that can spot him will let us dial in the cannon so we can snipe his ass GTA style. Then send a second round for good measure. We don't actually need to go Rampage on their asses, it would be fun, but unnecessary.
>>
>>2697287
>Obtain some serious body protection
>Hire observers
>Buy a truck to get the tank in position without being detected
What >>2697358 said. It should be a one-and-done deal
>>
>>2697287
>>Buy a truck to get the tank in position without being detected
>Obtain rocket launchers
>Hire observers
>>
>>2697306
>>2697329
>>2697347
>>2697358
>>2697417
>>2697446

>Buy a truck to get the tank in position without being detected
>Hire observers
>Obtain some serious body protection

Vote called, writing.
>>
>>2697287
>>2697495

Your crew gets hold of a semi-tractor and lowboy trailer, plus a tarp thick enough to hide the tank's distinct silhouette when draped over. They get some serious armor, tactical kevlar for bullets, with ceramic plates for extra protection against rifle rounds and wire weave for stabs. A phone call to Cat puts you in contact with a team of observers, one of whom is a certain woman you last saw aboard the paddlewheel casino.

"Working for Miss Yamada is a big improvement," she says over the phone. "You were right, picking pockets is a bum deal. Spotting's better work, safer, pays better. And I'm so glad to be done with that fucker who sold me out to the fuzz. So yeah, thanks for vouching for me."

"Happy to help," you say. "What were we calling you again? Carol?"

"For now, at least, yes."

"All right, Carol, stay put and we'll let you know when and where we need you and your team."

You hang up the phone and head over to the corkboard on which you've pinned up your planning materials. Maps of the city, photos of the Triads, a list of your crew and assets. You consider how best to split up your resources.

The M60 battle tank requires at least two people to operate at all, and four people for full efficiency.

You'll need at least one person in a car tailing the motorcade, reporting their position and timing, and monitoring police communications. You could get the hirelings to do it, or have one of your crew handle it personally.

The rest of the crew have options. They can either escort the tank in another vehicle, either for combat or scouting, or support you from nearby in some way, like observing, sniping, or staying hidden with an escape vehicle ready.

Assign your Crew:
Johnny
Alex
Roxie
Nick
Ryuji
Ken
Kaz
Hirelings

Tank crew (Choose 2-4):
Observation vehicle:
Combat vehicle:
Onsite support:
>>
>>2697609
Tank crew (Choose 2-4):
>Johnny
>Kaz
>Hirelings

Observation vehicle:
>Nick
>Ken

Combat vehicle:
>Alex
>Roxie
>Ryuji
>>
>>2697609
>Tank crew: Johnny, Ryuji
>Observation vehicle: Hirelings, Nick
>Combat vehicle: Roxie, Kaz
>Onsite support: Alex
>Escape Vehicle: Ken
>>
>>2697609
Tank crew
>Johnny
>Kaz
Observation vehicle:
>Nick
>Ken
Combat vehicle:
Alex
>Roxie
>Ryuj
>Hirelings
>>
>>2697633
I like it, except swap us with Roxie on the tank vs combat vehicle. We are literally built for combat, also I bet Roxie would love to blow some shit up in a tank.
>>
>>2697609
>>2697633
Backing >>2697652 with what >>2697655 suggested
>>
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>>2697609
>>2697633
>>2697639
>>2697652
>>2697655
>>2697675

You scratch down the following list:

Tank Crew: Johnny (commander), Kaz (driver), Hirelings (gunner, loader)
Observation vehicle: Nick, Ken
Combat vehicle: Alex, Roxie, Ryuji

Looks okay to you. Of course, there's the small matter of an escape route. It's always possible that you can just bundle up the tank back into the truck and leave with no-one the wiser. But it would make sense to have a Plan B.

Cat has delivered to you an intel report on the Dragon's plans. He's spending most of his time these days behind his fortress walls, but even a man of his status has to leave home eventually. Now you know where and when it'll be happening, and although Nick and Ken will be tailing him to be sure, you have a good idea of the route he'll take. So you can figure out ahead of time where you'll set up.

You circle three places on the map, considering their strengths and weaknesses.

Site 1 is probably the best place to set up an ambush, with tall buildings for observer line of sight. It's also in Tangerine Grove, the fanciest district in Heat City, home to fat cats and financiers, and it'll draw the fastest police response time.

Site 2 is close to the harbor, where you could make another water-bound escape if you had to. However it's also the most open area, with wide boulevards and a big park plaza on one side. Not a lot of cover if shit hits the fan.
Site 3 is nearby exits onto two different highways, the easiest place to escape by road. It's an industrial area too, so few civilians around. But it might be hard to lose the police there if they got on your tail before you hit the highway.

>Site 1
>Site 2
>Site 3
>>
>>2697821
>Site 3
Hit hard, hit fast, run fast. Also Site 3 is close to Edna's place, so that might be worth considering?
>>
>>2697821
>>Site 3
>>
>>2697821
Site 3 m'boy
>>
>>2697821
>Site 3
>>
>>2697821
>Site 3
More cover and less civies getting into the line of fire.
>>
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>>2697821
>>2697890
>>2697896
>>2697937
>>2697955
>>2698032

Site 3 looks like the best option. Industrial area, open sight lines, good highway access. You'll just have to make sure you get out of there fast, before you get boxed in by Heat City's finest. That is, assuming the Triads don't have some nasty surprise for you, or just turn out to be tougher than you expect, and the job is successful in the first place. Probably better to concentrate on that first. Kill the Dragon, worry about cops after.

A couple days later, you're heading to the stash point out in the Marsh, where you keep the M60 hidden. You're in the passenger seat while Kaz is driving. Behind you are the two hirelings you brought on to crew the tank. You twist around in your seat to get another look at them. A real pair of Florida crackers, which is to say country boys from upstate. Bob and Jim, one tall and thin, one short and fat. They talk a lot to each other about nothing much at all -- the weather, the grass, who fucked whose sister and got run out of town. Reading between the lines you gather they got dishonorably discharged from the army and haven't adjusted so well to civilian life.

"So you guys are sure you know how to fire a tank cannon?" you ask them.

"Yessir," says Bob.

"If you don't mind me asking, where'd you learn something like that? Were you in the armor branch?"

"A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed," Bob quotes in his country drawl.

"I don't think that applies to tanks," you say. "But I get what you're saying." Sounds like they're militia boys. You wonder if they just practice on a dummy tank, or if some upstate fringe group of wackos has actually got their hands on functional armor like this one.

The car arrives at the stash point. Your ribs still ache but you still help Kaz take off the branches and camouflage netting hiding the tank from observers. Stepping back, you take a good look at the M60 and pause for a few moments to admire its power, its endurance, its raw functionality. A beautiful machine.

"All right, so we're gonna go through a few practice rounds to make sure we understand what we're doing. Kaz, you can familiarize yourself with the driving controls there -- pretty sure it's just like driving a motorbike. As for you two, I can make sure you're telling the truth about manning the gun, and you can fill me in on anything I need to know about my job." You'll be taking the "commander" position which basically means you'll stay on the radio and try to keep track of everything while also pointing Kaz in the right direction.

You rest a hand on the metal of the tank's frame. "One more thing. We need a name for this majestic creature. I'm thinking--"

>Big Bertha
>Skullcrusher
>Patriot
>Spot
>Write-in
>>
>>2698153
>>Big Bertha
of course
>>
>>2698153
>Patriot
'MURRICA
>>
>>2698153

Fortress of Arrogance
>>
>>2698153

I'd better wrap things up for tonight, so I'll leave you with open votes for the tank name and anything you want take care of before the big attack on the Dragon's motorcade.

>Take care of some things before the job (Say what)
>We're ready. Let's go.

I'll be back Monday to call the vote, and Tuesday to continue the quest, where we get to command a tank. See you then anons.
>>
>>2698153
Deadly Iron Comes Knocking or DICK
>>
>>2698153

Dragons Bane

Or

St. George (the patron saint who slays dragons)
>>
>>2698153
>The Brute
Always on the lookout for #1. Us too, Caesar!
>>
>>2697417

>One and done

Wait.

A hit and the dragon dies - a technical mission success. We still need to disengage! Their escorts are going to be all over us and waiting for us to emerge from the tank (assuming we won't be able to make it away in the tank because cops are faster). We either fight escorts and run the risk of the cops arriving (distant chance of escaping as the cops break up the whole party), disengage, and hope to outrun escorts in a tank (eye roll), or preferably lead them into an ambush or have cover fire.

So... Bring gas masks, smoke grenades, and ideally remote charges and claymores. We shoot, we get our hit - perfect. We withdraw immediately (shooting as we go) through an ambush zone, pop-pop-pop. We lay an automatic ambush, much like in 'Nam. They follow us, we disable vehicles with preplaced remote charges - one click on the hell-box and we got em. Claymores (or fourgasses) shred them as they emerge, we pop smoke (I think the M60 has a hatch on the bottom so you can pee. Drop smoke through there.) and use it as cover as we get to the escape vehicle. Then...

...We blow up the tank. :D Bonus points if we use a tanker truck for it. Between the Dragon's fancy-pants armored limosine spread all over this ZIP code, the 20-30 jabbering slanties who just learned that "honor" does not mean "shrapnel proof", this city block being covered in smoke, Heat City's finest getting a serious law-boner for getting to do more than write tickets and eat donuts, and 50 some-odd rounds of the finest 152mm high-velocity whoop-ass NATO ever let walk out of the factory going off sequentially in the middle of things (accompanied by a gas tanker. I NEED there to be a gas tanker), we should be able to drive outta there calmly and in style, cause it's going to be a week to unfuck that mess.

FINAL SCORE:
...The Dragon - DOA, fast and clean

...The escorts - DOA, loud and messy

...The bored boys-in-blue - running around, and not shot at by us at all. If we're lucky, HCPD will get their rocks off hammering the remainder of The Dragon's operations.

...The Bratva - busy going "WTF just happened?" Even better if the HCPD goes "fuuuuck this. They ALL guilty." And starts shit with THEM.

...and the ragtag band of ne'er-do-wells who explained the shift in management via concussive diplomacy? Oops, we "died" in the tanker blast. So sad.

Welcome to the Thunderdome.


>>2697417
>>
i just want to say we better have a radio so we can hear the shitstorm from radio stations/cops/FUCKING EVERYONE.
>>
>>2698394
>We blow up the tank.
See, this is the part of the plan that I kinda disapprove. Remember that we still need to take out Ivan, and he might have his own tanks smuggled in.
Unless, of course, you've sniffed a nice little warehouse full of things that belongs to Ivan, drive the tank there, and then blow the whole entire thing up. Tank, warehouse, whatever Ivan's got in that warehouse. Should get the cops on Ivan's tail AND make Ivan lose some supplies AND evidence removed.
>>
>>2698439
Zero's on comms duty, should be fine.
>>
>>2698466
not just for informing us, just to see the shit hit the fan from them reporting it.
>"this just in from Heat radio, just when you think this city couldn't get hotter after the FBI attack something else stokes the fire, a tank was spotted causing mayhem and untold destruction through the streets."
>>
>>2698460
Yeah deffo put it on the Bratva.

Like who else could *get* a tank even lol.
>>
>>2698153
>Patriot
America = Power
>>
>>2698153
>Spot
>>
>>2698153
>Patriot
>>
>>2698898
>>2698153
Backing Patriot now.
>>
>>2698153
I would call it George
>>
>>2698153


"We'll call it The Patriot," you say. "If nothing else, America means power." You rest your hand on the metal armor of the tank as you look it over, imagining the glorious destruction it will unleash.

Before the job, you get everyone's gas masks together and have the twins spray-paint patriotic patterns on them. Your own has a stars-and-stripes motif. You spend a few minutes looking at it. The empty eyes of the mask stare back at you.

Are you really doing this? The heat it's going to bring down will be incredible. You've already done enough to bring the whole of HCPD down on your head. How long can you keep getting away with this?

You hope that you can finish this before you climb too high in the ranks of the city's most wanted. But probably not. Not after today.

(Continued)
>>
>>2702929

Radio: Bruce Springsteen -- Born in the USA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZD4ezDbbu4

You brought a boom box into the tank with you, to keep you entertained during the journey. You have decent reception on RK-1 radio in here, despite being surrounded by a hulk of metal. The inside of the Patriot is quiet other than the music and the noise of traffic outside, including the semi-trailor up front towing your tank's trailer to the destination. The machine is under a heavy tarp that should obscure its distinctive shape enough for any gawkers or looky lous.

You're perched up in the big seat, right inside the rotating turret. The tank commander. Your job is mostly just to coordinate everyone, but there's also a machine gun turret up top you can man if you open the hatch. The country boys are below you, Bob the fat one in front in the gunner's seat, while Joe the skinny one is behind him, ready to load new shells into the breech-loading main gun. Kaz is in the driver's compartment, separate from the main tank compartment. You hope he isn't freaking out up there, but he probably is.

The interior of a tank cramped and stuffy, but you've dealt with worse before. A lot of these buttons and switches you're looking at, you have no idea what they do. Hopefully giving everyone orders with your radio here will be enough.

You can feel the rumble of the lowboy trailer's wheels, feel the change in momentum as the truck trailor swings. You switch to the driver's channel. "Everything all right up front, Bill?"

"Ayup," he says back. Bill is another country boy, friends with Bob and Joe here in the tank. He's up front driving the truck.

You switch back to the observer channel to hear someone in mid-sentence. You ask him, "Say again?"

"This is Obs One, target is leaving the site, command." Observer-1 of Carol's recon team. "One car, two vans. Car in the center."

You feel a sense of relief for a moment, thinking of how that'll be easy enough to deal with, before Obs-1 says, "Wait a minute -- got more movement inside. Second convoy is exiting the garage, say again, second convoy. One car, two vans. Same as the first."

"One of them's a decoy," you hear Alex say. She must've been listening in from the armored vehicle, parked nearby the ambush site. "Maybe even both of them."

You muse it over, thinking this is starting to get more difficult, when Obs 1 says, "Third convoy coming out. Same deal."

"This got complicated," Alex says wryly. "What do you think, Johnny? The Dragon will be in one of those three cars, but which one?"

>He'll be in the second car. It's the safest, surrounded by his men.
>He'll be in the third car, farthest away from a trap.
>He'll be in the first car, because that's what he wants us to think
>We'll just have to start at each end and work our way into the middle.
>Write-in
>>
>>2702939
>>We'll just have to start at each end and work our way into the middle.

BORN TO KILL
>>
>>2702939
>We'll just have to start at each end and work our way into the middle.
They're all going to die either way
>>
>>2702939
>We'll just have to start at each end and work our way into the middle.
If we can maybe set up a shot going THROUGH each of the cars.
>>
>>2702939
>We'll just have to start at each end and work our way into the middle.
Also backing >>2703032. The only way out is through, and piercing shots are one hell of an out
>>
>>2703046
At the very least, he might get forced outside the vehicle. Then we blow him into a fine red paste.
>>
>>2702939
>>2702959
>>2703002
>>2703032
>>2703046


"We'll just have to start at each end and work our way into the center," you say. "Hey, wouldn't it be cool if we got them all lined up and fired a shot through them all in a big line?"

Alex says, "Tank shells don't work like that, tough guy, sorry."

"Tread on my dreams, why don't you? Nick, you listening? You got eyes on the convoy?"

Nick replies, "Yeah, chief." You can imagine him in the passenger seat of one of Ken's more inconspicuous cars, as they tail the Triad convoy from a safe distance. "They're en route east. Everything's going fine so far."

"All right. When they get to the site, me and the boys here in the Patriot will stop them in their tracks. Alex, you take them from behind."

It occurs to you that if you blow the car up, you won't know if you killed your target. A flaming corpse won't be much good to identify unless you pull their teeth out for the dentist. The Dragon might be in the second car -- or maybe he's not in any of them, and the entire motorcade is a decoy from start to finish. If you blast his car into smouldering wreckage, you won't even know that you succeeded until later, if at all. Maybe it would be better to reserve the use of the main gun for the Triad vans, and get a bit more up close and personal with the cars.

>Yeah, that sounds right. Fire the main gun on the van, take the car up close.
>Nah, fuck that. Blast everything to kingdom come.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2703114
>>Nah, fuck that. Blast everything to kingdom come.
If they still keep coming, we know they weren't in the convoy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8OtzJtp-EM
>>
>>2703114
>Blast the convoy up front then back, block them into each other.
>Check back with Spy 1 and see if they have anyone else leaving.
>>
>>2703114
Don't forget that the tank has a coaxial machine gun. Right? Right?
>Machinegun EVERYTHING, use the shell when the Dragon is confirmed
>>
>>2703122
Supporting
>>
>>2703114
>>2703122
>>2703124


You turn away from the radio and call out to Bob and Joe. "All right boys, stick to the coaxial MG for now! Machine gun the hell out of the front of that convoy! When primary target's location is confirmed, that's when we bust out the big gun!"

The country boys confirm.

Bill the driver says over the radio, "Coming up on the spot." A few moments later you feel the truck turn, pull forward a little, then. "All right, we're in the alley."

"Let's hope we don't get a parking ticket," you say. "Nick, how are we doing?"

"Doing good," he says. "Right on schedule. Turning onto Parish now."

You click on the portable phone that connects you to Zero. "You ready, pal?"

"Ready and waiting," the hacker says. "When I push this key right here, you got a three-block radius of four-way red lights. Should last long enough for you to do what you gotta do."

A tense minute passes. You feel sweat trickle down your sides. You think about the rest of the crew, parked just down the block in the car you had bulletproofed. You wonder if they're sitting in silent tension like you. Probably Alex and Roxie are arguing with each other over something, while Ryuji sits there in stoic silence. Poor guy.

You hear Carol's voice break over the radio. "I can see them." She'll be on top of one of the buildings surrounding you. "Two minutes."

"Bill? It's time."

"Ayup." You hear the door of the truck open and shut, and a bit later, the trailer ramp lowering. Shortly after the tarp is dragged off of the tank, and you can see out the viewport again. Outside, a city street in broad daylight. A couple cars parked on the side of the road. Across the street, an abandoned factory. Nobody in sight.

"Thirty seconds," Carol says.

You say "Alex, you ready to rock?"

"Absolutely."

"Bob and Joe?"

"Yessir!" "Mmhmm!"

"Okay then," you say. "Zero, hit the lights. Bob, on my mark, be ready to open up with the MG."

You pause to take a deep breath and collect yourself. Then you flip open the hatch, stand up, and take a grip on the machine gun mounted on top.

"Ten seconds," Carol says.

You start to feel it welling up inside. The joy of it. The battle-hunger. The eagerness for blood and destruction and chaos and everything. The thrill of risking it all. This could mean death for everyone, for you and your crew, the end of everything you've fought for. Or it could be your finest moment.

"Five seconds."

You zone in. Everything else fades away. All that exists is the gun and the empty road, and the engines you can hear fast approaching.

>Roll! 1d10, first three results count for different parts of the battle.
>>
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>>2703333
>>
Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>2703333
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>2703336
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>2703333

>>2703340
>>2703346
Oh god why
>>
>>2703340

You. You are a failure and a coward. You may not roll anymore. You have shamed yourself, your family, your ancestors, and us.
>>
>>2703372
The other players were our redemption, be a little softer on the lil' guy.
>>
>>2703333
>>2703340
>>2703346
>>2703363


"Ready, set, aaaand holy shit stop!"

At that precise moment a woman pushes her baby stroller in front of the alley, holding hands with her young daughter walking beside her. Grocery bags tucked in back of the stroller. The little family walks merrily along, probably talking about what they'll make for dinner tonight for daddy, with no idea they have two tank machine guns pointed straight at them.

The first cars of the Triad convoy show up exactly on time. They slow to a stop at the red light. They're right there. The Dragon could be in that car right in front of you. But there's an innocent woman and her damn kids between you and them. For a chilling instant you think about pulling the trigger anyway. But you can't do it. You may be a killer, but you're not that kind of killer.

"God dammit," you mutter to yourself, then bark below, "Hold your fire!" You hear confusion from below.

The woman with the stroller casually glances in your direction, then looks away. Then she looks back. Terror slowly dawns on her. You gesture urgently to get out of the way, but it's too late. The people in the car have spotted your ambush. The car's engine guns, the tires squeal, and the car races away in a cloud of exhaust. The van follows behind them.

"Son of a bitch! Kaz, follow them! Alex, attack! Everyone go, go, go!"

The diesel engine roars, the treads squeal, and the tank slowly goes into action with a cacophony of metal. It rolls forward, dipping as it goes down the ramp from the trailer. The woman and her family scream in panic and race away. The tank exits the alley, and the sunlight hits your face again.

As the tank turns, you see the car and van of the first group escaping. You're about to curse all the fates for placing that woman and her family in front of you at the exact wrong moment, but then a truck backs out of an alley right in front of the fleeing car, and they smash into each other. The car spins away. Its front end is crumpled, the horn blaring, the engine a smoking ruin. The van pulls to a stop beside it.

Turning behind, you see the second convoy of the Triads' motorcade screeching to a halt nearby you, cut off from joining the first group by your tank blocking the road. The van doors open and Triad soldiers begin to jump out, carrying assault rifles and submachine guns.

Beyond them, you see the armored car holding the rest of your crew draw even with the third convoy. At this distance it's hard to see, but you think you spot Alex leaning out the passenger window with a grenade launcher. A moment later, the blast of a high-explosive grenade against the side of the rearmost van confirms that. A second grenade penetrates the van and explodes inside.

You, on the MG:
>Fire at the second convoy, close behind you
>Fire at the first convoy with the smashed-up car
>Write-in
Kaz, driving the tank:
>Stay here
>Forward towards the first convoy
>Write-in
>>
>>2703415
>>Fire at the first convoy with the smashed-up car
>Forward towards the first convoy
>>
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>>2703415
>>
>>2703415
>>Fire at the first convoy with the smashed-up car
>Forward towards the first convoy
>>
>>2703415
>>2703426
>>2703448

Radio: Metallica -- Disposable Heroes
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRqCOIsTx8M

"Kaz, forward! After them!"

The tank rolls forward over the ashphalt. The few citizens out on the streets scream in fear and panic, running in all directions. One man in a suit abandons his car right in your path and flees in terror. You hear Kaz say "Oh, shit --" right before the tank tread hits. The car crumples under your weight like it was made of paper, and the tank rolls right over. "Hope he's got insurance," Kaz says.

The Triads behind you are opening up with their guns. You duck down into the tank turret for a few moments to take cover. "Bob, once we round that corner we're gonna see the first convoy ahead of us. Let 'em have it with the MG!"

"Yessir!"

The tank begins to turn as it reaches the corner. You stand back up, take hold of the machine gun turret, and have a look ahead of you. More soldiers have exited the van, some standing guard, others moving towards the smashed-up car. Before they can react or get organized, you pull the trigger and let them have it.

The gun erupts in your hands, spitting hot lead in a deadly torrent. The recoil drags the gun barrel up, threatening to break free of your grip, but you've got plenty of experience wrestling powerful machine guns under control and you keep it aimed right where you want it. The front-mounted machine gun of the tank also opens up as Bob begins to fire. Even through the earplugs the deafening sound fills your ears, as though the air itself were being torn apart. Twin streams of automatic fire rake the Triad van and soldiers surrounding it, bullets piercing through flesh and metal, blood and steel.

It's over soon. The dead and dying Triad soldiers lay collapsed on the ground in pools of blood. With your superior firepower and armor, they didn't stand a chance. "Stay here!" you bark at the crew inside the tank, and lever yourself out. Time to check for yourself if you've bagged your quarry.

>Approach the car cautiously. They might have a nasty surprise waiting.
>Be fast and aggressive. Don't give them any time to get ready, or for that second convoy to get away.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2703501
>>Be fast and aggressive. Don't give them any time to get ready, or for that second convoy to get away.
>>
>>2703501
>Be fast and aggressive. Don't give them any time to get ready, or for that second convoy to get away.
Ambushes only work when you dont slow down
>>
>>2703501
>>Be fast and aggressive. Don't give them any time to get ready, or for that second convoy to get away.
Gottagofast!
>>
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>>2703501
>>2703506
>>2703525
>>2703556


You run forward as fast as your bulky armor will allow. Can't afford to slow down, give these fuckers a chance to recover and mount a defense. That second convoy is still back there. That and, although you left Zero's cellular phone back in the tank, you don't need his advice to hear the sirens closing in. A heavy police response is bearing down on you. Time is running out.

Drawing your sawn-off shotgun with one hand, you yank open the passenger side door with the other. The driver and passenger are both alive but dazed. You fix that by putting a shotgun shell into each of them. Quickly loading another two shells, you step back to the rear door and open that one. Two young guys back here, one of them obviously dead, but you realize the other one is still alive when he raises an Uzi SMG at you. He manages to get a burst off at the same instant you fire your shotgun, and you both hit each other. You're wearing armor. He isn't. His shots knock you on your ass, your shot blasts his chest open. He falls back, the rest of his magazine being dumped into the ceiling of the car.

You manage to pull yourself up to your feet using the car's trunk, and brace yourself on it for a moment as you clutch your ribs and allow yourself a grunt of pain. You reload the shotgun, then take the ruined ceramic plate out of your armor vest and toss it aside.

Okay, so no old guy. This wasn't the right car. Either convoy number two or three, then.

You start to jog back to the tank, breathing heavily, feeling your armor weighing you down. "Alex, Ryuji -- status?"

Your answer is an explosion.

You turn to see a blossom of fire and smoke rising, right about where Alex's car was battling the third convoy. "Alex!" you shout, the cry involuntarily ripped from your throat. You put on a burst of speed as best you can, and reach the tank again. You clamber back up to the turret for a better view. From here you can see the armored car, intact but crashed, turned over on its side. The third convoy's car has pulled up alongside them.

Looking over to the second convoy, you can see the soldiers have gotten back in their van, and the vehicles are turning around to make a run for it, away from the ambush site. If you went after them right now, you'd have a good chance of getting off some shots on them, but if you stop to help your friends, the slower tank probably won't be able to catch them in time.

>Take the tank back to help your friends.
>Take the tank after the fleeing second convoy.
>Send the tank for your friends, pursue the convoy yourself.
>Send the tank after the convoy, help your friends yourself.
>Write-in
>>
That's the last update for tonight, more tomorrow!
>>
>>2703626
>>Send the tank after the convoy, help your friends yourself.


>>2703628
Night
>>
>>2703626
>Send the tank after the convoy, help your friends yourself.

Tell them to stick to the MG if possible so we can identify the bodies.
>>
>>2703626
>Send the tank after the convoy, help your friends yourself.
If we can't check bodies, we gotta pull teeth, and we won't have time to pull teeth if the boys in blue roll up! So the tank can stop Convoy 2 easily by hitting engine or tires with MG and filling people inside with lead, while we rush to Convoy 3 and back up our crew
>>
>>2703626
>Take the tank after the fleeing second convoy.

They're either fine or fucked, but since they're also certified badasses they're probably fine.

But if we don't get this guy here we're ALL fucked, not just us or them.

I hope they didn't pull a shell game and our target is in NONE of the vehicles.
>>
>>2703888
Explosions are still explosions, my dude. One roll can decide anything
>>
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Not able to return to this tonight, anons, but I will make up it tomorrow with some HARDCORE QUESTING.
>>
>>2704923
> t. Lies
>>
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>>2706249
It's still tomorrow (today), foolish anon! I will resume in one hour!
>>
>>2703626
>>2703629
>>2703840
>>2703885


You look from the second Triad convoy driving away, to the crashed armored car holding Alex, Roxie, and Ryuji, and back again. If that Triad car is escaping instead of staying to help the others, that must mean the VIP is in there, right? You can't let the Dragon escape, or this whole thing will have been for nothing! But you can't leave your friends behind either.

You're forced into splitting your forces again.

You yell at Kaz over the radio, "Kid, get after those fucks who are running away! They went west on Williams Street, but if you turn left up ahead you can get behind them. Don't give the bastards a chance to escape! Tell Bob to stick the MG, or we'll still be pulling teeth to identify the corpse when the boys in blue roll up!"

"What about you?" Kaz says.

"The others are in trouble," you say, taking out your M16 and quickly checking the magazine. "I have to go help them."

"But -- you're just going to leave me with these hillbillies? Johnny, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing!"

"Don't worry, kid. You got this!"

"Look, Johnny --" You can hear the hesitation and fear in his voice. "If I don't make it, tell my mom I love her, all right? Tell her that -- that I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up. If I'd gone to college like she wanted --"

"Stop talking like that!" you tell him, despite a foreboding chill. "You're gonna be fine. Blast the hell out of that convoy and I'll catch up to you when I can. All right, Kaz? I'll see you then."

"Right," he says. "See you then."

The tank engine roars to life, and the treads begin to turn once more. It drives past you, heading west to chase after the second Triad convoy. Meanwhile, M16 in hand, you start off in the other direction. At the corner, you turn south, heading back down the main road, Parish Avenue, towards your friends.

(Continued)
>>
>>2706506

Citizens are running out of the nearby buildings. Some of them scream in terror, some dash to escape, others stand paralyzed in fear, or maybe disbelief that a running gunfight is actually happening in an ordinary city street right in front of them. This is Heat City, sure, but nobody expects something this crazy. Several of them cry out and hide as you pass by them. You suppose a giant man in body armor jogging down the street while carrying an assault rifle is a reasonable cause for alarm.

The sound of sirens is getting closer. You left the cell phone that puts you in contact with Zero back in the tank, and you curse yourself for the oversight, but you don't need his comm channel monitoring to know that HCPD is closing in. A hell of a lot of them, from the sounds of things. This is already a war zone, and it's going to get worse fast.

You trudge along, already short of breath. Still an entire city block to go until you reach them. You try to put on a burst of speed, but your super-heavy armor is weighing you down. There's no time! Your crew is in trouble! If you discarded some of your armor, you could run faster and reach them sooner. You're still in the middle of a running gunfight, so that comes with obvious risks, but if you're too late to help your friends it could mean disaster for them.

>Discard some of your armor, so you can hustle over there as fast as possible.
>Keep the armor on. You might need it soon. Your friends can handle themselves.
>Try to hotwire a vehicle and speed over there -- it's risky and might end up being even slower, but if it works, you'll get over there fast with all your armor.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2706522
>Ditch the armor
>>
>>2706522
>Catch one of the running people and take the keys to their car.
It is stupid to give up our armor/evidence this early.
>>
>>2706522
>>Try to hotwire a vehicle and speed over there -- it's risky and might end up being even slower, but if it works, you'll get over there fast with all your armor.
>>
>>2706522
Wait fuck, my post in >>2706606 is retarded. Backing >>2706610 instead, this is a smarter idea.
>>
>>2706522

i like this>>2706610
>>
>>2706610
>>2706522
This. While using a heavy Russian accent.
>>
>>2706522
Lets do funny accents today>>2706649
>>
>>2706522
>>2706617
also backing >>2706649
make them think its Russians from eyewitnesses
>>
>>2706522
>>2706657
Super serious Russian accent. Didn't think of blaming the Bratva for a sec
>>
>>2706649
this just gets better
>>
>>2706522
>>2706610
>>2706617
>>2706619
>>2706649
>>2706657
>>2706672


Why hotwire a car when you can start it up the regular way? You can just take someone's keys!

Then you realize you wouldn't know which car is theirs unless you demand the info at gunpoint. And even if they tell you, it might be parked down the block in the opposite direction, or in the parkcade two streets over, or anywhere.

You get an idea to salvage this. You keep jogging south, panting for breath, until you spot somebody approaching the driver's door of a car. Older guy in industrial work gear, probably from one of these factories around here. The car is a beater, but it'll get the job done. You advance towards him as he takes out a keyring and struggles to unlock the door. Before he can, you raise your gun, aim carefully, and put two bullets into the rear driver's side window. He looks around and sees you, a giant man in a patriotic stars-and-stripes gas mask and heavy body armor, pointing an assault rifle at him and advancing towards him. He freezes in fear.

"Keys!" you demand as you get closer. "Give me the keys, dammit!"

He extends a trembling hand holding his keyring, but the shakes get the better of him and he drops it.

You put on a heavy Russian accent just to confuse his police statement later. "Spasiba, comrade! For glorious motherland! Hah hah hah!" The old guy gets a look of confusion, and you gesture away with your rifle point while telling him, "Now get out of here, disgusting American pig! Run away!" Now he'll be really puzzled as to why you're wearing a stars and stripes mask. He runs away with a visible look of confusion on his face.

(Continued)
>>
>>2706730

You sling the M16, reach down to pick up the keyring, and realize there's over a dozen keys on this thing. You end up having to try them one after the other in the door lock -- you could smash the car's window to get in, but you'd still need the right key to start the damn thing. You try one key after another, feeling more frantic with each failure. "No -- no -- fucking goddamit!"

Finally you find the right one, get into the beater car, and start it up, wondering if you saved any time at all doing that. The radio blares to life as you yank the gearshaft into drive.

Radio: Twisted Sister -- I Wanna Rock
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F4LYes4fH4Y

You peel the car out into a U-turn, then jam your foot down on the accelerator. The decrepit car is sluggish at first, especially carrying your weight, but starts to pick up speed. You grip the steering wheel tightly, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your blood. A kind of mental purity overtakes you as your soul is pared down to the essentials. Fight. Protect. Survive.

The car goes faster. You speed past the crowds of escaping civilians. You weave through the vehicles that have been abandoned in the middle of the street. You keep your left hand on the wheel, and with your right, take hold of the grip on your M16.

Finally you get a clear view of the situation ahead. You see the armored car your friends were in, turned over on the passenger side, with cracked windows, blown tires, and smoking undercarriage. Both of the driver's side doors are wide open, pointing vertically into the air. Nearby, across the street, is the third Triad convoy, a black car in front and van behind. Triad soldiers are crouched behind them, firing at your team's car. Between the two groups, in the middle of the street, is a huge, brawny Asian male standing over something. He turns towards you, and you recognize his face, flashing back to your information board. It's Earth, the final surviving member of the Elements, the Triads' last remaining elite enforcer. And he looks pissed.

>Crash into Earth.
>Crash into the Triad car.
>Pull up before you reach them.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2706745
>Crash into Earth.
>"BEEP BEEP, OUTA OUTA WAY, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEEEEEEP!"
>Spray our daka out indiscriminately at high speed in the enemy direction.
>Scream all of it in Russian accent.
>>
>>2706745
Backing >>2706757
>>
>>2706745
>Crash into Earth.
>Scream like a madman
I'm geting wood
>>
>>2706745
>Crash into Earth
>>
>>2706763
But we already got Wood last thread, well technically Alex got the bitch, but that Element was got already.
>>
>>2706745
> Pull up before you reach them.

Car accidents suck.
>>
>>2706745
>>2706757
>>2706761
>>2706763
>>2706772


You drive forward, aiming straight at Earth. Your foot is planted on the accelerator, and you can feel the old car reaching its top speed. You feel a big grin cross your face. Time to cross the last Element off the list. Sorry, Alex, looks like this one's yours! The big fucker turns towards you, and sees you incoming at high speed. "Out of the way!" you shout, laying on the horn and laughing like a madman. "Beep beep, motherfucker!"

Earth stoops to the ground. He takes hold of whatever it is he's standing over. Then he drags it up into the air, and you realize it's a person, and he's holding them out in front of him, clutching them by the throat, like a sacrificial lamb held up to the gods, and you see who it is.

Roxie.

Your instincts take over, and you crank the wheel sideways.

The car swerves.

For an instant you see everything clearly, like it's all in slow motion. You see the front corner of the car just barely missing the two of them, Roxie's ponytail stirring in the breeze as you pass. You see her face, battered and bloodied after a severe beating. You see the blood on Earth's knuckles, and his triumphant look of arrogance as you make the choice he knew you would make.

Then time speeds back up, and the car rolls, and your world is reduced to crashing and slamming and metal and glass and concrete and pain.

Should've worn a seatbeat, the flickering embers of your consciousness think, and it all goes dark.

(Continued)
>>
>>2706872

When you struggle back to the light, it feels like hours later, but you look past the cracked glass of the somehow still-functional dashboard clock and realize it's only been a minute. Everything sounds the same, the shouting of fleeing citizens, the gunfire from the Triad soldiers, the chorus of incoming sirens. Your vision blurs, your head swims, and for several moments you have trouble telling which way is up. You eventually figure out that you're upside down, with your head against the roof of the car, which presumably is now on the ground.

You reach out and try to open the door, but it's stuck. You can't get a grip from this awkward angle, and you can barely use your strength. You have to pause to vomit, unloading the contents of your stomach onto the roof underneat you. Then your door is ripped off its hinges, and muscular male arms with dragon tattoos grab onto your armor straps and drag you outside.

Earth throws you roughly back onto the asphalt, then stands over you with his arms folded, looking down at you. He clearly isn't impressed.

Barely able to muster a thought in your disoriented state, you still manage to look around for your comrades. Roxie is beside you on the concrete, bruised and beaten, bleeding from the lips, red swelling around one eye. Her star mask lies on the ground next to her, cracked and broken. You look over to see Alex and Ryuji disarmed and held at gunpoint -- Ryuji seems relatively unharmed, but Alex is dazed with blood coming from her forehead, not even able to stand.

You hear the Triad soldiers shouting through your ringing ears, see them gesture at Alex and Ryuji with their guns. Earth barks what sounds like a firm negative and holds his hand up, as if saying "no". Discouraged, the Triads lower their weapons, though they keep them pointed at your friends.

Earth steps over Roxie, standing with one leg on either side. For a moment you think the worst is about to happen. But he just bends down to pat her over for weapons. After finding her pistol, he unloads the magazine, racks the slide to clear the bullet from the chamber, then tosses it aside. Then he unbuckles the straps on her armored vest and pulls it off her, discarding that as well. He then does the same to you, taking away and unloading your weapons before hauling your vest and shoulder pads off. You strike weakly at him as he does so, but he just laughs at your feeble efforts. He undoes your chin strap and pulls off your gas mask, exposing your face to the open air. Then he takes several steps back, and ... does nothing else. Just stands there.

What is he waiting for?

(Continued)
>>
>>2706874

>>2706874


You hear Roxie cough, and turn your head to look at her. One eye is completely swollen shut, but she looks at you with the other. You see tears there. "Johnny," she manages to say. "I'm sorry, I -- I lost --"

"It's okay," you tell her, even though it isn't. "We'll be fine," you tell her, even though you won't be.

"What do we do?"

"First we stand." And then? Then you have no idea. But whatever it is, you'll have to start there.

It takes a while, but helping each other, you and Roxie manage to struggle to your feet despite your wounds. She balances herself with one hand on your shoulder, and you can barely hold her weight, but you endure it for her sake. She spits out a gob of blood, then works out a broken tooth and tosses it aside. "Are we fucked, Johnny?" she asks.

"We're still alive," you say, not knowing what else you could say.

You look at Earth, just standing there with his arms folded. What is his deal? He points at his soldiers, shouting more orders at them again. They keep Alex and Ryuji at gunpoint, making sure they stay still. They don't make any moves to shoot them, or you. But there's no way you could get to a gun before they kill your friends, then you.

Earth turns back to you with a big smile on his face. And he raises his hand, palm up, and moves his fingers to say "come on."

Now you understand.

"Bastard," says Roxie. "He wants to go two on one?"

"I think each of us only counts as one-half right now," you say. "So it's more like he wants a fair fight."

Roxie spits blood again and wipes her mouth. "Fuck him. His funeral."

With no other choice, you put up your fists. And you get ready for the fight of a lifetime.


>Strike hard, hit him now with everything you've got
>Defend, try to protect yourself while figuring out his fighting style
>Try to find a way to win this, even if you have to sacrifice your body to do so
>>
>>2706889
>Defend, try to protect yourself while figuring out his fighting style

Fucking told you guys. Car accidents suck.
>>
>>2706889
>Defend, try to protect yourself while figuring out his fighting style
>>
>>2706889
>>2706923
>>2706948

Roll. Three 1d10s, first is you, second is allies, third is ???
>>
Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>2706989
Rolling
>>
Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>2706989
>>
Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>2706989
>>2707006
God damnit
>>
>>2707049
It's okay, taking a punch is our special move.
>>
>>2707066
Yeah but we didn't speck into regen yet.
>>
>>2706889
>>2706989
>>2707006
>>2707027
>>2707049


You put up your fists, okay, sure. But you barely have enough strength to hold them there, let alone fight. You keep them raised as Earth cracks his knuckles, stretches his neck from side to side, and takes up some kind of kung fu stance. From what you remember of the intel files, this guy is some kind of world-class expert in multiple martial arts. Not the fancy tournament kind for showing off. The kind that turns you into a deadly weapon with both arms tied behind your back. He's almost as big as you, and clearly far better trained in hand-to-hand. You and Roxie going two on one against him under the best of circumstances would probably be a close shave. Now, when the both of you can barely stand? You have a bad feeling about this.

Earth comes at you, cautiously, testing you. You block some of his blows with your forearms, and try to test him back, but you can't mount any sort of offense. When he realizes you're not fighting back, he gets mad and says something vulgar in Chinese before doubling his assault. Fists and elbows strike at you like an unending rockslide. All you can do is hold on, trying to defend yourself and come to grips with his fighting technique. But there's nothing to come to grips with, no opening to exploit, no vulnerability to attack. His style is direct, uncomplicated, and brutally straightforward. It's pure power, invulnerable strength, the inexhaustible might of the earth from which he takes his name. You take a punch to the chest, a kick in the stomach, a box to the ear that starts your head ringing like a bell. When you do manage to strike out, it's like punching a mountain.

Roxie has moved into a flanking position and is attacking as best she can in her current condition, but Earth is skilled enough to defend himself from one side and attack on the other. He parries her strikes, then counterattacks with a hook punch to the jaw, but Roxie eats the blow in order to pin Earth's arm. She lands a series of swift kicks, aiming for Earth's vulnerabilities, if he has any. Solar plexus, kidneys, even a direct hit to the nuts. All it does is make Earth angry. He shoves her, and she falls over. He looks unaffected by her assault. Is this fucker invincible? Does he feel no pain? What kind of kung fu training exercises did he do in some ancient monastery to get like this?

All you know for sure is that if you can't find a way to stop him, he'll kill you and your friends. It feels as inevitable as gravity.

(Continued)
>>
>>2707138

You hear a car approaching at high speed. You look past Earth to recognize the observation car. It screeches to a stop nearby. The passenger door bangs open, and Nick appears with an MP5 submachine gun. "Fuck you fuckers!" he screams, terrified, and fires wildly in full automatic mode.

Nick's aim is terrible, and nobody can aim in full auto mode. He could just as easily hit one of the crew. But through fortune or chance the only person he hits is one Triad soldier, who falls clutching his shoulder. He's out of ammo in five seconds. But his arrival gives Roxie the distraction she needs to get the drop on Earth. She leaps onto him from behind, clinging to him with her legs around his torso while she claws at his eyes, hissing like a feral cat.

Temporarily blinded, grabbed at Roxie's hands, Earth has given you an opening to attack -- however, you also note that the gunmen holding Alex and Ryuji hostage are distracted by Nick as well. Maybe they're close enough that you could charge them before they realized. Maybe.

>Attack Earth while Roxie has hold of him.
>Charge the gunmen holding Alex and Ryuji while they're distracted.
>Call for Nick to throw you a weapon.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2707145
>Charge the gunmen holding Alex and Ryuji while they're distracted.
One is shoulder clipped, the other is super scared. The moment they are freed, Alex and Ryuji will get rearmed and back in the action. Roxie will get fucked up by Earth, but she should still be alive and hanging in there. Going for Earth is a waste of our effort, and we need the breath to rush the gunmen and not yell for a weapon.
>>
>>2707145
>Charge the gunmen holding Alex and Ryuji while they're distracted.
The angry hobo lady that has cat like tendencies can take care of the scratching post......we must never let her live that down.
>>
>>2707145
>Attack Earth while Roxie has hold of him.
>>
>>2707145
>>2707196
>>2707209

You seize the opening presented by Nick's distraction, summoning your remaining strength to impel yourself forward into a lumbering charge at the Triad gunmen. There are three of the bastards. Ducking to scoop up a chunk of asphalt blasted by the earlier explosions, you hurl it like a fastball at the head of the farthest one. He gets beaned and goes down like a sack of potatoes being dropped. The other two turn to him, wondering just what the hell happened to him, not realizing there's two hundred and eighty pounds of pissed-off thug barrelling towards them. You slam into one with a shoulder charge, knocking him off his feet. Turning to the other, you grab his SMG in his hands, twist it to point into his stomach, and force his hand down on the trigger. His own gun blasts him. You wrestle it away from him as he falls, point it down, and gun down the man you just knocked over. The first guy, the one you hit with a chunk of rock, has pushed himself up on one arm, and managed to take out his pistol with the other. He gets off a shot before you. His bullet catches you in the left shoulder. Yours hits him in the head. He drops back down, boneless, dead, but he tagged you pretty good before he went out. Your left arm hangs useless, your shoulder a mass of searing pain.

You somehow manage not only to stay on your feet, but to turn around to point the gun at Earth. But by now he's got the better of Roxie. He's holding her in front, with one meaty arm locked around her shoulder in a half nelson, the other around her waist and pinning her other arm. She's fighting back as best she can, but she can't get any leverage or reach him with her hands, all she can do is desperate thrashing and kicks that connect with nothing.

The sirens are here. You see red and blue lights at each end of the block, closing in now. No time left.

Earth begins to back off, moving backwards towards a nearby alleyway. "You stay there," he says in accented English. "Or I break her neck. I do it quick."

You've got a gun, but it's not yours. A Triad submachine gun, inaccurate at the best of times. Can you risk shooting when you might hit Roxie? Or is letting Earth drag her off the greater peril?

>Take the shot.
>Let them go.
>>
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>>2707573
>Take the shot.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
>>
>>2707573
>Let them go.
MISSION FAILED, WE'LL GET 'EM NEXT TIME
>>
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>>2707573
>Take the shot.

Qui audet adipiscitur
>>
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>>2707573
>>2707596
>>2707685

Roll. Once only. Usual success brackets: 7+, 4-6, 1-3. Good luck, anons.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>2707703
we're fucked
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>2707703
>>
>>2707704
Jesus be praised.
>>
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>>2707704
Good work anon, you protected this smile.
>>
>>2707714
thank god
She's worth it, she really is.
>>
>>2707704
>>2707706
Fucking shit, thank you lads.
>>
>>2707573
>>2707703
>>2707704

You raise the gun, take careful aim, and fire.

An almost perfect shot. It cuts a slash across Roxie's cheek, but that's all. Earth isn't so lucky. The bullet lands right smack at the base of his throat, right above the sternum. He drops Roxie to the ground, clutching at the wound, trying to put pressure on it, but blood pours between his fingers. He chokes, unable to breath, and sinks to his knees.

You limp forward to stand right in front of him. He raises one hand, shoving weakly at you, trying to somehow ward you off, while trying to stem the tide of blood with the other. You push his hand aside and jam the barrel of the gun to his forehead. "I do it quicker," you say, and pull the trigger.

The shot carves a tunnel through his head and exits with a bloody splatter. The heat of the point-blank muzzle leaves a scorch mark on his forehead. The light vanishes from his eyes, and he collapses sideways in an awkward heap. Whatever mysterious training he went through, it didn't make him bulletproof.

The phrasing of what you said to him kicks in then. "Wait -- aw, man! Fuck!" You look down at Earth, but he's dead as a doornail. No way to take it back. "Fuuuck!"

Roxie slowly pulls herself to her feet. She's taken a serious beating from Earth and the car crash. Ryuji approaches, supporting a still-dazed Alex, her eyes blank with confusion. She must've hit her head badly when the armored car crashed. You yourself aren't doing so good either after rolling a car at high speed and taking a bullet in the shoulder.

But you're here. And you're standing.

"What now?" Ryuji asks.

"Now?" you say, looking beyond him. "We've got brand new problems."

The police cars are right fucking there, surrounding you in every direction. Some of them have already pulled up to form a front line, and the other cars are braking to a stop behind them. The cops inside the first line are already getting out, taking up position behind their cars, aiming with their sidearms. Behind them, you see SWAT vans on approach. Probably already have marksmen on the roofs nearby.

A megaphone squeals, then projects a loud voice. "Attention! This is HCPD! Surrender now, or we will open fire! You have ten seconds to comply!"

No time for a plan. Only a choice.

>Everyone into the Triads' car. We'll take our chances together.
>Everyone else into the Triads' car. You'll hold the cops off long enough for them to escape.
>Surrender. It's the only way to be sure everyone lives.
>>
>>2707769

>Into the Triads car. We all go home or no one does.

RAAAAMPAAAAGE!
>>
>>2707769
>Everyone into the Triads' car. We'll take our chances together.

what happened to the tank? Is it still Chasing the other convoy
>>
>>2707769
>Everyone else into the Triads' car. You'll hold the cops off long enough for them to escape.
Fuck it, let's do this.
>>
>>2707769
>Everyone else into the Triads' car. You'll hold the cops off long enough for them to escape.
Time to put on our best Russian-hired mercenary act.
>>
>>2707783
Oh come on, not the "pretend the Russians did it" shit again
>>
>>2707769
>Everyone into the Triads' car. We'll take our chances together.
>>
>>2707796
Nah, pretend the Russians hired us for the hit. Which is what got us here in the first place, so it's not entirely pretending.
>>
>>2707774
>>2707779
>>2707799

>Everyone into the Triads' car. We'll take our chances together.

Roll. Again, once only.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>2707817
>>
Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>2707817
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>2707817
I got this, lads
>>
>>2707821
It's okay, I've already taken care of it.
>>
>>2707817
>>2707818
>>2707819

You officially avoided being caught by the police by 4 seconds.
>>
>>2707822
Good work. Couldn't have done it better myself.

>>2707824
...Was there a time limit on our rolls?
>>
>>2707825
Only the order matters. The second (failed) roll came only seconds after the (succesful) first roll, which is the only one that counts.
>>
>>2707840
Ooooh, I see, the 3 was five seconds after the 8.
>>
>>2707769
>>2707817
>>2707818

"Everyone in!" you roar, pointing to the Triads' still perfectly functional car. You wave to Nick and Ken to get the hell out of here as well. As Roxie and Ryuji get Alex over to the car, you duck down to your discarded armor vest, quickly yank the grenades out, pull the pins on all of them, and throw half at one group of cops and half at the other. The explosions go off before the countdown ends, causing some of the cops to open fire, but Nick and Ken are already peeling out of there, and your friends are piling into the backseat, so you throw yourself inside, narrowly dodging pistol bullets, and get into the driver's seat. "Get ready!" you shout, crank the gearshaft, and slam your foot down on the gas.

Radio: Judas Priest -- Breaking the Law
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L397TWLwrUU

The car is a bulletproofed black Mercedes, and as you quickly figure out it's got a decent fucking engine under that hood. It roars to life, the tires squealing and then catching, and the car zips forward. Bullets impact the rear window, and it cracks, but doesn't break.

You look over to see Ken in his sports car jump the curb into a parking lot to avoid a line of police cars. You crank the wheel over to follow him. Your wheels hit the sidewalk with a hefty thump, bouncing everyone in the car.

"Seatbelts!" you remind everyone as you buckle your own. Made that mistake recently, don't need another face full of glass to remind you. Roxie clambers in between seats to sit in the front, despite you driving at high speed. "What did I just say?" you ask her. She rolls her eyes and does her seatbelt up. Then she yanks open the glove compartment, finding a pistol inside. She unrolls the window and fires back at the pursuing police cars.

"How can we lose them?" shouts Ryuji.

"Do you still have your radio?" you shout back at him. When he hands it to you, you switch it over to the tank channel. "Kaz! Kaz, can you hear me?"

Dead silence.

You switch to the observer car channel. "Nick! We can't escape yet!"

"What the hell are you talking about, we gotta escape right fucking now!"

"First we need to help Kaz!" You turn the car back towards Williams Street, where you sent the tank to pursue the Dragon.

"Are you crazy? You don't think the cops would have sent most of their guys at the fucking tank on the streets? Johnny, we need to be going the exact opposite direction!"

"I'm not leaving him behind," you say, tightly gripping the steering wheel.

Ken's voice breaks in. "We have no choice," he says. "Zero has been monitoring police comms. I'm afraid he's had some bad news."

(Continued)
>>
>>2707878

You see for yourself when you crest the hill ahead. You slam on the brakes, and the car screeches to a stop. You take it all in, not daring to believe what you're seeing.

The tank is a mere silhouette in the cloud of tear gas. Police cars and SWAT vans surround it in every direction, with dozens of cops deployed in rifles and combat gear. Three bodies lie on the ground. The midday sun shining down throws it all into stark relief.

"The police shot them on sight," Ken says grimly. "No trial for our friend Kazuya, or the country boys from upstate."

For a long moment it doesn't seem real. Ken must be wrong, right? Zero must have misheard the police radio. Kaz is still down there, being led away in handcuffs, and over the next few days you'll put together a daring rescue plan and spring him from jail before he has a chance to stand trial. Everything will be fine, just like you told him it would be.

Right?

You stare down at the scene of chaos, trying to find some loophole, some way you can change things. Kaz, the country boys Bob and Joe, you can bring them back if you just figure this out.

Roxie puts a hand on your shoulder. "We have to go," she says, gently, but with urgency.

You look in the rear view mirror to see sirens fast approaching.

Moving remotely, as though on autopilot, you accelerate again and begin to follow Ken's expertly piloted route away from the police pursuit. The city flashes by, palm trees and high-rises. The red and blue lights gradually recede in your mirror. You barely notice. All you can think about is the kid who hung out with drift racers and got mixed up with the Yakuza, who climbed into your car one night to escape a snitch's rap, who tried his best to fit into your crew with his limited skills and experience, who got along with everybody with his good nature, and whose last actions were in loyalty to you.

You feel something wet on your cheek as you drive. Just blood, you think. You wipe it away without looking at it.
>>
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>>2707884

Outro: Hotline Miami - Miami2
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jz0JqX4RKBQ

That's all for Thug Quest 32, everyone. Thanks for playing.
>>
>>2707886
Damn. I'm gonna miss Kaz. Good thread, Raven.
>>
>>2707886
Thanks raven, Kaz deserved better.
>>
>>2707884
But was his sacrifice not in vain? did he get the other car?
>>
>>2707961
Find out in Thug Quest 33!
>>
>>2707886
>"Look, Johnny --" You can hear the hesitation and fear in his voice. "If I don't make it, tell my mom I love her, all right? Tell her that -- that I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up. If I'd gone to college like she wanted --"
Will we be able to actually track his mom down and give her the news? It was the kid's last wish for fuck's sake
>>
>>2707878
Was this death a result of our rolls? Or was this situation a "someone is going to die for the narrative"?

I just want to know if it was possible to avoid this.
>>
>>2708015
Agreed. This should be near the top of our list.

>>2708022
I like how you don't even consider that it could've been down to our choices.
>>
>>2708057
That's because the situation we returned to had Roxie near death.

So I want to know if it was just us taking the "wrong" choice, and team 1 would have been fine if we didn't go back. Or if at this point SOMEONE would have died regardless of where we went.

But I was assuming Roxy & Co. situation was a result of having a bad roll for their part of the job, in which case why didn't Kaz get a roll?

Alternatively, if the whole thing was due to us picking the tank then tthat's understandable too.

After all, if getting that much firepower also increased the risk of any failure to lethal, than that's fair.

I don't like to put those things out as possible explanations because I like to hear the QM's justification first.

Yes, it could have been down to our choices. But there's a difference between a) making a series of choices without thinking through the risks and possible bad outcomes, b) making the "wrong" choice where one is a trap choice that kills a character offscreen. and c) Having a "quantum" death occur where someone will die regardless of the choice picked for narrative reasons to progress the plot, and really isn't a choice at all.
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>>2708057
>>2707884
Just to be super clear, I don't want a retcon or anything like that. Shit happened and we have to deal with it. The story moves on, and I appreciate you being more willing to "fail us forward" rather than have no real consequences.

But I WOULD like to understand how it got to the point where we had an offscreen death so that we can avoid repeating whatever it was that lead to it.

You don't have any obligation to explain yourself either, I'm not going to ragequit or freak out about it.

But you asshole, you write well enough to make me care about the characters so I'd like to not kill off any more.
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>>2707769
Daaaaaamn, delivered the biggest bitch one liner and capped the dude before realizing it. That's gotta sting.
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>>2707884
Welp, rip Kaz, and the two rednecks, but they were fodder. We'll tell momma to be proud of ya m8
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>>2707962
When is Thug Quest 33?
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>>2708099
Id probably say inexperience from Kaz as to what the cops would do once the hatch was opened, in all situations if the cops manage to stop a tank they will go for the kill before they can shoot the coax or the main gun
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>>2708099
Kaz was extremely inexperienced, we gave him only hirelings and we sent him on the most dangerous and attention-grabbing part of the job. Bit of a no brainer in hindsight.

We need to be a lot more careful on who we delegate going forward.
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>>2708099

It was a combation of many things. It didn't come down to a single failed roll or wrong choice. But in the end, you sent the most junior and inexperienced member of the crew off by himself with some low-tier mercenaries, on the part of the job that would draw huge attention from law enforcement and demand a lethal response from them.

>you asshole, you write well enough to make me care about the characters

I'll take that as a compliment.

>>2708518

Basically this.

>>2708106

>When is Thug Quest 33?

Soon(tm). Check out my twitter or discord for updates: >>2693735
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>>2708530
I just want to know WHAT to feel guilty about.
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>>2708533
How do you mean?
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>>2708533

>>2708530

>It didn't come down to a single failed roll or wrong choice. But in the end, you sent the most junior and inexperienced member of the crew off by himself

This is about as simple as I can make it.
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>>2708547
Well let's not repeat that with the twins, because we've been treating them the same more or less lately.
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>>2708547
So . . . Would Roxie have died if we made other choices?
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>>2708547
I've been mulling the situation over. We're probably going to kill one or both of the twins if we don't learn from Kaz dying.

We should have them at most providing covering fire, even then only if we're already retreating from combat. Probably best to just have them be lookouts.

That reminds me, we have to come up with an alibi for where we were during the whole tank thing. If they have Kaz' body that's a link to us as well.

Personally I vote we firebomb the morgue since that's whatisname signature move, and maybe set up a bank account for Kaz quickly and transfer a large sum to his mother from whatever bank the Russians use.

I wonder if we can even make it look like someone was trying to frame US for the attack by bribing Kaz to set it up, maybe by telling people he was following our orders but actually working on his own.

TL;DR They're going to follow the money, because that's the best way to find criminals. Since Kaz is dead, and they already have his body as a link to us, it's kind of a dick move but we might want to use him as a scapegoat.

Since it's the 80s, all we have to do is bribe some bank employees to falsify some physical records to make it look like Kaz started getting payments from the Bratva soon after he joined us.

We don't have a lot of resources in the way of manpower or territory etc. but one thing we DO have a lot of is money.
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>>2710612
This sounds good
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>>2710612
That's...actually kinda brilliant. Make sure to mention it next time Raven runs.
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>>2710612
Backing all of this
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>>2710670
>>2713000
>>2713212

Make it seem like he was working against the triads the whole time, and was ordered to use us as a Cats Paw against the Russians.

The burned us earlier, too, to it makes sense that we wouldn't be willingly working for them, but we've not really gone after them which is odd from an outside perspective.

We just have to play the Big & Dumb card. And I mean, we don't have nearly the resources of the Bratva or the Triads, where would we even get a tank from.




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