Jul 05 03:00:44 108 PA - A Brief Discussion of Plans

From Chronicles

Jul 05 03:00:44 108 PA.

TRADEWINDS COFFEE SHOP

Bartholemew pulls up to the coffee house, parking his hover truck outside, its roaring engines easily and loudly heard before the man comes strolling in a few minutes after the noise is cut. First things first, he heads over to get a cup of coffee to go with the fresh unlit cigar clenched between his teeth that soon he will be enjoying more than likely. Once his coffee is in hand he turns from the counter, briefly pausing to scan the room of patrons to find that seat that would be open. Good thing it's late and the place has the bare minimum of customers, clubs being the more likely place for people at this time of night.

Clues are good, and Gabriel is one such clue, sitting off in a corner up near the entry. He's at a round, three-place table with two mugs before him, a newspaper lain between them, and held in his hands just like an old man would. Of course, he's not that old biologically, but damn old temporally. He's frowning at the noise that had broken his quiet moment of contemplation, looking out to see that hovertruck. Recognition or notice of anyone incoming or outgoing is anyone's guess. He's trying to enjoy his coffee and current events.

In his apparent single-mindedness for coffee, Bart didn't catch notice of Gabe sitting near by as he entered, though now that he's had a quick chance to take a breath and look around, there he is. He comes over bearing a grin. "How ya doin? Was kinda hoping I'd catch ya before I headed back out to the farms." noticing the second cup, "Am I interrupting anything?" pulling the cigar from his teeth to sip from the hot coffee.

The paper is folded before words are spoken, but Gabriel's face is pleasant and bright. "No, no. Not at all. Just catching up on current events. Sometimes it's the press who gets better intelligence than the military, after all. At least, as long as you know what to look for, right?" He nudges one of the mugs closer, cupping it in both hands, but not lifting it. "Good to see you, Bart. I'm starting to worry that poor Mr. Losk is going to be dead by the time that I, you or we make it down to help out."

Bartholemew shakes his head as he takes a seat across from Gabriel, "Just gettin last minute things to set up. I've talked to some of the other farmers and I think by what they have said and what Mr. Losk has said, I've at least eliminated some of the directions they could be coming from. Narrowed down the search. And with the tip that they are weak to wood and silver, I made a few arrangements to prepare for that. You learned anything new bout them critters?"

"Nothing new, no," Gabriel says in between sips of coffee - highly cream and sugared coffee. "I hired a tracker to go out with me and look for their nest, or whatever it's called during the day, but again, much like everything else, things are moving slowly these days. I hate that. Civilians don't understand that time is an important commodity, no?" He smiles then and asks, "What are your special wood and silver arrangements?"

Bartholemew smiles, "Made us some wooden spears and got me a shotgun with silver rounds. They ain't no tougher than light armor, so should be good enough in a pinch. I also picked up some live chickens and some strong line and hooks to try fishin for em, while corralin them with Vibro wire set up to help guide em to the hooks. Motion detectors and some Mystical alarms will fill in the gaps. But recently I've learned that they may live in the trees, so trackin them might be a tad hard. I'm thinkin aerial with thermal bein they is nocturnal mostly. Val will cover the ground with a new kid that wants to sign on to the company. Darlos, a Ley Line Walker."

"Nice trap," Gabriel allows. "Yes, I heard that they enjoy the arboreal life. I just read that word in the crossword puzzle - arboreal - makes me sound smart," he taps his temple with a grin. "Darlos? Never met him. Do you think that maybe for both your sakes he should get some experience under his belt first? You don't need to be watching out to hold someone's hand, and he might not actually be the kind of person who ends up shooting things. That's a rough lesson to learn, and it blows the minds of a lot of otherwise strong men. Anyway, I have my old Dragunov and a forty-five semi. I'd loaded 'em down with silver rounds months ago when I thought that vampires might be a problem, so I'm set. Plus, I don't intend on sticking to the ground *or* the trees. I have a 'pack, and unless the little bastards would be intentionally looking for me?" He spreads his hands, "A dark sky is perfect camouflage."

Bartholemew chuckles with a nod of agreement to his final comment. "I know what ya mean. Anyway, the kid wants to sign on and says he might be useful in tracking down this nest of critters. So I am giving him the chance to prove himself. If he does well, he hired on, if not, he gave his best shot, but didn't make the cut. Believe me, I ain't gonna be babysittin him. He's gotta learn somehow. I plan to be in the air as well in my cycle. Scanning thermally for the critters. I'll set the traps before nightfall and have Val and the kid turn em on just about dusk. Simple enough job, then have em patrol the border to Losks property."

Gabriel nods as the the other man speaks, more or less depending perhaps on his degree of agreement. He does then say, in a tone that clearly indicates that he knows, very unfortunately, exactly what he's talking about, "Animals and demons, those are one thing. I hunted with my father and the other men early on, even if I only got a stick to carry. But when it comes down to mercenary work, killing sentient men and women? No one should ever have to learn what it is to take a life at a young age. It changes you." With a shrug, he ends that thought with, "So just watch over him anyway, would you?" Then a big grin. "If he wants a father figure, I'm probably old enough to fill in that gap." His chuckles fall away as he returns to a rather important, "How is the pay being split? I haven't spoken to Losk since I heard that you guys were on the job as well."

Bartholemew considers the thought of the split. "Well, My view on it is this, to keep the company strong, repairs and rearming comes first for everyone, then split from there on an even split. If the kid doesn't cut it, I'll throw him something out of my cut, but if he makes the grade, he'll get an even cut too. Losk said he had 20k to throw at the problem. I'm expecting minimal damages so the cut should stay descent regardless."

The older man frowns slightly, but it doesn't really seem to be at the cut being considered. "Yes, yes. I'm sure that'll be just fine. Can't expect a farmer to have a lot of money to throw at a problem, no matter what that problem may be. Money's money, and for most people, you either have it or you don't have it, and it's easy to lose, but hard to get. I guarantee that I'll be throwing in my best. As for you, Val, this new kid and maybe.. Bella? Does she work with you? Anyway," Gabriel lifts his large mug in salute, "It'll be good to work with your company once, see how y'all work together." His Kentucky accent, which is always constant, creeps in a little more thickly than usual.

Bartholemew smiles with a bit of a sigh, "I don't know about that girl, she says she is, but then she doesn't want to be a part of certain jobs. Heck, I ain't even seen her lately. Either way, she's prolly not gonna be on this job."

"Perhaps you could consider her a contractor, if she prefers that. Maybe she has some religious thing that prevents her from taking certain jobs or something," Gabriel says, a question in his voice and in the shrug of his shoulders. "I heard that you guys are going to be hitting Tolkeen one of these days. That has to be a big job," he states flatly. "Long way for most people to go without a secure line of retreat, guaranteed logistics and some allies in the area to count on. I don't suppose you'd be willing to let me in on your secret cargo?" He smiles as his lifts his mug to his lips and takes a long drink. "Mmm. Yeah. It's not Russian sweet coffee, but it'll do for now. How much would it take to pay a man to drive into a warzone?"

Bartholemew sips his coffee as Gabriel chats. "I'm expectin to make a pretty penny for that one, but I can't talk about anything here on that. If your willin to make the trip with us then you could get a cut of that payout. There's still a lot to plan out for that one though, lookin to get some insurance before we go, but not sure how that will pan out."

Gabriel shakes his head. "Thanks, but no. I want to see how you folks operate, then go back to my hermit hole and only crawl out on full moons when a job presents itself. Professional curiosity. I spent enough time with the same six other men as a unit, then two men and a woman as a unit, then just one woman.. before the Black Flag team, of course. I think I've had my fill of swearing fealty to any one organization. But I do wish you guys the best." He points a finger across the table. "Take care of Galvin, he's a good man. Just not exactly a soldier."

Bartholemew nods, "I like Galvin too, All he needs to do is drive, I'll take care of the rest."

The older man smiles, nods his head and stands, grabbing his briefcase. "I'm afraid that I have to be rude, Bart. I actually have a potential client of my own. Thinks she might have a cheating husband." Gabriel shrugs and smiles. "Urban is my thing. Take care, we'll hook up to take care of those bony bastards later. Watch yourself." He tips a nonexistent hat and begins to moves toward the exit.