2012.07.11.Meeting.Markus

Mount Hope Cemetery

The grave yard continues to be shrouded by an aura of death and decay. The former bucolic California green space is rapidly being turned into some sort of gothic, southern necropolis. Graves have been dug up here and there emitting fumes. Grass grows over fallen stones. Mounds of indeterminate origin lay shadowed under overgrown trees.

The eye of this whirling chaos is the Shambling Horror of Prospect. Like a modern day Pythia, the Horror stands on the marble stairs of its crypt and looks deep into a smoked glass plate. At what is anyone's guess.

Strolling through this place of darkness is LaVey, wearing the face of Piotr tonight. The man carefully picks his way through the fissures and over fallen gravestones until he arrives at the crypt. "This place becomes lovelier every time I visit, what is your secret?" the man asks, sweeping an arm to indicate the rapid changes that are occurring in the cemetery.

Mary wanders into the graveyard, wearing a white flowing dress that comes to her ankles tonight. Her hands are covered in opera length white gloves. A black veil is worn over her face, giving her a very monochromatic appearance. In her hand is a boquet of white lillies. She places one at each stone as she approaches the Horror. "Hello there. May I visit you tonight?" she asks.

The Horror looks up from its glass and replies, "Yes. Welcome to my Necropolis." It offers the leathery smile filled with strange teeth. "How may I be of service to the Sword of Caine this evening?"

"I have at long last received word from higher-higher," LaVey says as he reaches into his pocket. Out comes a piece of vellum covered in fluid writing. The paper is offered to the Horror first, then on to Mary. "In short, it says a crusade will soon be brought against Shady Grove. We, the Cainites of Prospect, are to be the vanguard. Specifically, I have been ordered to gather a small contingent and go with them to meet the black hand agent that will be our handler. Apparently he works out of dive called Smoke Jumpers. We are to present ourselves to him, then let him guide us in our objective."

Mary smiles. "Finally. A chance to prove ourselves in this city." she syas. "When are we supposed to meet him? Or her?" she asks.

The Horror looks to Mary and says, "See? The dead are already working on your behalf." It looks at LeVay and says, "How interesting. I hope I may be of service in this crusade."

"That is, of course, why I came to you first," LaVey tells the Horror, stroking the creature's notorious ego. The man then turns to Mary and cocks his head back towards where he came from. "I appropriated a Wrangler from the Argent, we leave as soon as I obfuscate us all. I will be Willy, the Horror will be my wife, and you will be Candy, our adult child. The camarilla have a tight hold upon the police force there, and outsiders are treated with great suspicion, so it is best if we stay as low key as possible.

Mary nods "Low key.." she says, changing her voice to something more feminine "Got it, Dad."

The Horror clutches her robe indignantly, "Your wife?" She makes a ticking sound with her teeth. "I cannot say this would be the best use of my, shall we say talents. I will arrive independently and I will begin to seek out the dead there. It is best if I remain on the fringes of things. If I am to take more direct action, an introduction to the Prince there would make the most sense. My bloodline often remains aloof from the Jyhad and I may be able to infiltrate somewhat. Even the Camarilla have dead they wish to be rid of or wish to reconnect with. This is within my power to provide."

"Very well, I will provide you with the address and you can meet us there," LaVey says as he pulls out a business card and golden pen from his breast pocket. The card itself says 'f1nal' on the front, so he flips it over and scribbles for a few seconds. The bit of paper is then offered out to the Horror. "Tell Markus of your ideas, I am sure he can make us of them." After the card is taken he motions for Marion to follow him. "Let us be on our way, the night is young but we have much to do."

Mary nods "That makes sense." she smiles. "I'm glad to have you with us." she says to the Samedi. "You could be our best entrance to the Camarilla's secrets." she gives a bright smile to LaVey. "So, Daddy, we ready?" she asks.

Andrea has arrived.

Cash has arrived.

Andrea walks into the cemetary, looking much like she should be followed by a body guard or two. She has a regal walk about her, a spoiled tilted up nose, and an air that screams that she always gets her way. She is wearing jeans and cowboy boots, a loose blouse over a tight black tank. Vivid red hair flows down her back. She is followed, after a bit, by an old man. She stops, waiting for him to catch up, and grins, before letting Cash take the lead - becoming HIS shadow.

While he's no bodyguard, Cash is walking in at the same time Andrea is. He's got a slow, deliberate pace he's taking, the chink of his spurs sounding out with each step taken.

Mary is dressed differently then normal today. She is in a floorlength white gown, her face covered by a black veil. Her hands are covered in opera length gloves. "So what does Candy look like?" she asks. Apparantly she is preparing a new face. "She'll have to be scarred. That damn Cross."

At the center of the chaos of the cemetary is the Shambling Horror of Prospect. Perhaps you've heard of it? Perhaps you haven't. Regardless, you have tresspassed upon its Domain. Many who enter here never leave.

The Horror looks to Levay and speaks its voice little more than a rasp beyond the grave, "More new faces? More company?" It doesn't seem exactly pleased that so many gather here. "Will there be ritae or is this a...social call." It would seem it would prefer the former.

"Don't worry, I will mask your face. You will simply look like Candy wearing those clothes," LaVey says and waves his hand. Without any dramatics, Mary is now Candy, the tall redhead. Turning around, he spots Cash and Andrea arriving. With a few quick words he fills them in, and shows them the missive from the Archbishop. "You may ride with us, or you may make your own way like the horror. Which will it be?"

Mary murmurs. "I always recommend ritae before heading on something so important, but there is little time."

"We can ride with you. Who knows, you might need the protection." Cash drawls, arms crossing over his chest.

Andrea looks at Cash "I prefer riding my Sire's bike, we will ...." she trails off, and makes a face, biting back her words to look over at the other two, shrugging. "You two are a bit chewy. I guess we should attempt to protect you" she drawls finally, lifting her little nose to the air like it was a dirty job.

The Shambling Horror casts a baleful glance at Andrea, its black, glassy eyes pouring over her with indignance. It doesn't say anything. It clutches its robe and shambles a little further towards its crypt, collecting a few things cast there. Bones, a pane of smokey glass, a vial of something.

"Very well, see you there Horror," LaVey says as he leads the group to the wrangler. After about an hour on the road they find themselves on the outskirts of town. The next twenty minutes sees them through middle class rowhouses, through the slums, and right on into the warehouse district and the docks. The wrangler pulls up next to an alley and the nosferatu disembarks. "The bar is just down here, if my directions are correct," he says as he walks into the alley. After a dozen steps he turns and pulls open a set of double doors leading into the establishment.

Shady Grove - Smoke Jumpers - The Bar

//desc//

Walking inside the establishment the bar is only ten feet in front of you. It is shaped like a horseshoe and the rest of the room forms a U around it. The bar has many stools around it peanuts on top and broken shells everywhere to crunch under your feet. The place takes after it's name as a pall of smoke hangs heavy in the air just beneath the lighting. A squadron of sickly fans beat lazily at it but to no avail. Light is provided by by those same fans 40watt bulbs struggling to bring only the most dim light to the place.

To either side of you are the tables. There are no booths only tall bar tables made for four people with accompanying chairs built to match the height. At either tip of the U are what appears to be a matched set of small rooms. One has a curtain pulled all the way across and a rope suspended between two columns declares it reserved. The other is set aside for the proprietor Markus and is halfway open.

//enddesc//

Mary rides with Lavey, all pretty in her Candy disguise. She follows behind him, heading down to the bar, being oddly quiet, on her best behavior tonight.

Andrea is the last of the group, taking time to strengthen herself, preparing for the worst that could happen in a bar of weird Cam like peoples.

Once inside the bar, it does not take long for LaVey to spot the private area marked off for Markus. With a motion of his hand he bids the others to folow him. The man weaves through the tables until he comes to the half open curtain. "Hammer," he says, in his finest Estonian accent. "Sickle," the arab man sitting in the booth replies in a thick accent. "This is us, everyone crowd in," he tells the rest of the group and motions to the mostly hidden booth behind the dark curtain.

Van the Man has arrived.

Mary follows along behind LaVey, very quietly as she moves towards the booth. Her eyes are narrowed and she tries to keep a low profile. No Candycandy ass so dandy tonight. Today, she's playing it safe.

Andrea doesn't WANT to cram in, but with a shove from Cash, she finds herself into the tightest corner and a huff of indignation at the cramped spot. She crosses her arms and studies the Arab.

Van pulls up in an old clunker, or at least, it looks like one. Some beat up old truck with half-primer colored paint and half lime green...The kid drags out, dressed in grungy old clothes, camo pants and combat boots with a wife beater and olive drab backpack. Clutched in his right hand is a guitar case. Slipping into the bar he cuts his eyes around and looks for a familiar face. Not seeing any he registered as V he just shuffles in and waits, standing awkwardly by the bar. This WAS the place he was told to meet him at, right?

"Van, ass in booth, now," LaVey tells his ghoul using his Piotr voice. The creature gestures for Van to sit himself down at the end. Once he is seated the nosferatu follows. With everyone arranged Markus draws the curtain back almost all the way, leaving only a crack for himself to see the door. Markus himself is an interesting character, arab no doubt. He has black salt and pepper hair but a goatee that has gone completely gray. The gray seems a bit odd as the vampire does not look like he could be much past his mid-40s. The cainite wears a simple long sleeve black t-shirt and a think pair of gray doe-leather gloves over his hand.

The glove on his right hand is gently removed and the sigil scarred into it is shown to the group, then it is replaced. "I am Markus, and I will be your point of contact while you are operating in Shady grove. I do not know much about you, however, so I would like you to go in order, this one on my right," he indicates Andrea, "And ending with you, Hammer. Tell me your name, your clan, and how you best can help our efforts here. Sabotage? Infiltration? Intelligence gathering? Masq Breaks? Ferrying supplies? Use your imaginations and emphasize your strengths." The vampire leans back and crosses his arms, waiting.

Andrea crosses her arms harder, watching Van enter into the booth, her lips pressing down as she hears him try to order her. She gives a glance to Cash, and with a nod of his head she looks at him. "I have connections I can use if I reconnect with my father, mob family. I am fairly new to this family, so I could infiltrate easily into THEIR life. I prefer to shoot rather than flirt, but they come and flirt anyway. Don't know what else. Talk to my sire" she nudges Cash, unsure of what more she should say.

Mary continues to quietly watch from Lavey's side. SHe's not going to mess things up tonight. She watches closely. "Others first." she comments. Perhaps shes waiting to see what they say.

Van manages to cut but a single short glance to Mary as she...Passes. "Van. Ghoul of laVey and proud servant of the sect. Sharpshooter and hand to hand combat specialist with extensive infiltration training. Old money, lots of it.. .Vehicles, supplies, anything you can find? I can buy." he says all this quickly, sharply, as if it is a resume he has rambled off a million times before.

Andrea glances over at Van, her eyes lighting up with an internal shopping list...

"My main area of expertise is intelligence gathering of course," LaVey says, the fake accent no longer neccessary. "What I lack in forthright power my ghoul more then makes up for. Intelligence will be my main contributions." Finishing up, he looks back to Marion, arching an eyebrow.

Mary finally answers. "These fine people are my eyes, and ears and fists." she says. "I am the spiritual leader, I suppose. I do serve as strength at times when it isnecessary." she says.

"Excellent, a wide variety of skills," Markus says as he looks around the large table. "Now, let us get down to the meat of the issue. This is how things are going to work: I am not here to hold your hand through your first Crusade. You will have to step up and prove yourself to your Sect. This will require a large amount of initiative on your part, coming up with plans, schemes, and operations you wish to undertake. Come to me with them, and I will see you supplied. If you lack for ideas come to me as well, I always have something that needs doing. The better I know your strengths and weaknesses the better I can select which assignments to give you. Everyone understand?"

LaVey nods silently, and elbows his ghoul.

Van the Man nods in turn but keeps his mouth shut...Unable to keep from flicking his eyes to Mary and narrowing them oh so slightly.

Mary nods "Absolutely." she answers, looking back to Van with a raised eyebrow.

Andrea nods her head "Just point me to something to hit once in a while. and I will be fine. Hanging out with Cretans makes a girl antsy!" she pulls a pen out of her purse, and starts to write a shopping list.

Van the Man keeps quiet and furrows his brows...He seems to be thinking. Formulating. A quick glance to V and then he folds his hands in his lap. Feeling quite honored and out of place to be aloud to sit here at the wartable... Planning a crusade. Like a real memberof the sect, almost.

"Now that we all have an understanding, I need you in the field immediately," Markus says as he reaches into his pants pocket. Three airport security passes come out and he gives one to Van, Andrea, and Mary. "These will get you into a private airfield just north of Shady Grove. Once there, you will take a small, private flight just over the border into Tijuana. As you may be aware, while it is very easy to slip into Mexico, it is more difficult to drive a large shipment of illegal arms up through customs. You will be driving it overland, avoiding the Federales, Mexican Army, American Border Patrol, and those nutjobs that watch the border in their spare time. Equipment will be waiting for you across the border. Now move."

Andrea grins "dibs on driving!" she offers up, trying to climb out of the booth, almost as a teenager would do, scrambling over the plotting other men.

Van the Man oh so subtly shifts as Andrea comes scrambling out. Hey, he isn't trying to trip her! He just...isn't try not to. "careful, sugar." he mutters and then hops up himself, picking up his guitar case and taking a large step back from everything. He looks at V a bit uncomfortably...Being sent off on a mission with Mary and Andrea? Alone? This was going to be...Challenging.

At the airfield it is a simple matter of flashing your laminates at security and then walking directly onto the tarmac. The plane is idling in the moonlight and looks like... well a complete piece of shit. It has more dents then smooth surfaces and the paint needed to be redone about ten years ago. On the plus side, the engine sounds fairly solid. The door is open and a man is yelling something in what sounds like arabic and waving at the group to get moving. Once inside you discover there are four passenger seats. One has an unmarked crate on it and the other three? Well, the other three have parachutes sitting on them.

Mary takes her pass and pockets it. She hears ANdrea and shakes her head. "Very well." she goes into the passanger seat, next to the crate. "This shouldn't be too difficult." famous last words. Poor Van.

Van settles up in the back, brooding. "Stupid.." he mutters to himself. Or at Mary...Who knows? But not another word is said for the rest of the trip. He flashes his card, loads his gear, and gets ready to get some rest on the flight down.

Andrea eyeballs Van as she buckles into her seat. "not to difficult. We got take out." she grins, lifts her head after a few minutes of eye contact, and then looks at the crate. "wonder what is in the box? My shopping list?"

Somewhere Over Tijuana

The flight is short, less then an hour, and you can tell it has come to a halt because the plane is still in the air but the door is suddenly open. Wind rips through the airplane and the man once again begins screaming at the team in arabic and gesturing for them to get the fuck off his plane. Right now.

Van takes what gear he can. Strapping his backpack to his chest and his shoot to his back, pistols are stashed and his rifle is dissembled and put into the backpack. He does all this with lightening speed and seems to have no reservations what so ever about jumping out of a fucking airplane...Even getting a running start before he dives out, arms spreading wide, eyes closing as he goes into free fall....Pulling the chute at the lost possible moment.

Andrea grabs the crate, taking it with her. And then imitates Van, the second out of the plane, She screams in delight as she freefalls with the heavy crate.

Unfortunately for Andrea, the chute was -not- designed to carry both the living dead and a heavy crate. The parachute crumples after she opens it and she slams into the ground crate first. Luckily, what was packed inside the crate was covered in foam which helped a little... but random odds and ends of plumbing supplies meant for the arabs family are suddenly part of the Brujah's body. Once on the ground, the teams GPS guidance system attached to the jump gear starts going off, leading them out into the desert.

Van the Man hits the ground and cuts the chute off, pulling out a pair of blacked out goggles that...somehow. In fact, magically, give him perfect night vision. The BOOM of impact from his teammate gets a glance..and Van slooowly walks over and picks up one of the pipes that hadn't lodged itself into Andrea...and poke poke pokes at her. "Heeey. Andrea....you ok..." he asks in the most bland and not concerned voice that may have ever been used by anyone ever.

Mary gears up and hgrabs a chute, ready to hit the ground. This is her first operation like this and she hopes no one realizes it. "Right." she says, as she rolls, unsure how to handle a paralanding. Military trained she isn't. "Allright, did the gear get down okay?" she asks, somewhere in the middle of her parachute. SHe can't see anything but cloth right now.

Andrea throws a pipe at Mary as she stands up, slowly pulling her body free of crate and plumbing. "fuck that hurt" she says, complaining. "ok I guess that wasn't my shopping list" she tries to shake off the damage, looking around.

The GPS trackers on your packs begin to beep more insistently, pointing them towards the west.

Van the Man just shakes his head. "I would have been better on my fucking own. COME ON, LADIES! Sun is on the way....And yall can't tan as pretty as me." with that he starts to treck towards the west. Putting his rifle back together as he moves.

Andrea catches up "just cause you think you are a pretty boy doesn't mean I won't eat you for breakfast like wheaties" she growls out, grabbing the GPS tracker and moving forward with more speed. "come on. Lets go do what we were gonna do"

After a half-hours walk at a steady pace, the quiet rythem of the desert at night is suddenly broken. While still a little over one hundred yards from the GPS destination, the sounds of at least two dogs bark can be heard. If one looks towards the barking, one can also see flashlights splashing luminescence back and forth, at least three of them. Above the dogs the occassional shouted word of spanish makes its way to distant ears.

Van the Man hits the sand and uses the scope of his rifle and the goggles to peer into the darkness, trying to see just who was out in the distance. Uniforms? Markings? anything?

Mary catches up to the other two. "This is.. different.' she says, walking along side him. She tilts her head. "You see anything?" she asks quietly.

You paged Van the Man with 'There are three men around the truck. They look like thugs with AKs. The two dogs are both german sheppards, they're barking furiously at the back of the vehicle. For whatever reason, none of them are getting closer then ten feet.'

"Three guys. AKS. No uniform...Cartel, maybe. Who knows. Not government. Got a truck, dogs...Something in the truck, spookin the dogs. Andrea. You're...Amazing, you know that? Defiantly the strongest one here. Go check it out? I got you covered.."

Andrea pulls out her own gun, buffing up a little more, preparing for the worst, "fuck they will smell the blood. Hell I needed dinner. IF worst comes to worse .. " she mutters, "we needed a car anyway, I hope I fit in the cop uniform!"

Van the Man waits until andrea has the gap closed...He knows she must be hungry after all that healing so he pops two shots off. Dropping the dogs like flies from his vantage point in the dunes. The bujah basher can handle a few little fellas...Right? Riiiight...

Mary tenses, watching from the background. "If you need me to come in, let me know." who knows why shes letting everyone else do all the work? maybe becasue shes out of her league.

The brujah basher is STARVED and a bit of an eager pup to prove herself to the cocky Van too. She tears into one, a messy throat tear, the blood spurting before she covers it with her mouth and sucks in, making the man scream in horror before he collapses and she leaps to the shocked other man like a monkey from some ape movie.

...The third is about to pump her full of bullets, but Van puts on into the side of his head and paints the sands red with his brains. He stands up then and yells. "CLEAR AWAY FROM THE BACK!" and glances over his shoulder to Mary. "Don't worry, if I need a sandwich I'll let you know..." and then hes sliding down the dune, heading to the truck.

The truck is a two-ton army surplus job painted woodland camo. Very useful in a desert situation, obviously. Once the shooting and screaming stops, yet another dog sticks its head out of the back. This one is very obviously ghouled and fleshcrafted into a war machine, with spikes all over it and fangs so long it looks like a saber tooth tiger. Once it gets a whiff of Andrea's blood, it hops out of the truck and pads off into the night.

Mary snarls at Van, just watching carefully. She knows better then to interfere. She grumbles to herself, just watching the fight.

Andrea perks up, scenting something new in her hunter mode. Death surrounds her, and death flees. She looks at Van and snarls "didn't your fucking gun have bullets?" she pushes herself again, burning that celerity to chase after the mutant dog. "what is Mary doing? polishing her nails?" she grumps under her breath, "wait till daddy hears about this!"

Well, two can play that game. As the dog senses Andrea coming up from behind it, it also burns for celerity, and opens a wider gap between the two as it pounds across the desert landscape towards wherever its master is.

Van trots up and says. "No shit it had bullets. If I hadn't shot that guy you'd be dead. I also took out the front line of dogs..Jesus christ, don't you pay attention to anything? Just get in the fucking truck..." he glances over his shoulder. "and yes, she was polishing her nails. Better than he down here flailing around and fucking up." he shoulders the rifle again. Boom boom...Two aimed at the dog, would it hit?

One of them obviously connects as the dog yelps in pain and slides out to come to a stop resting on its side. One back leg kicks feebly in the air and it struggles to get itself back up on its feet.

Mary stays where she is. She's prepareing the weapons, in case the group needs backup. In this situation, she knows her place.

Andrea grabs the dawg, almost running over him, and then grabbing to pick him up. She snaps his neck and rips his head off before dragging back to the truck. "anything else oh bossy on?"

Van the Man beams a bright and brilliant smile to Andrea. "No ma'am. You did fantastic." it may be the first nice thing hes ever said to her...With that he gets in the truck. "You still wanna drive?" he says, looking around slowly. "The fuck is Mary? MARY!"

The dog does not go down without a fight, and swallows most of Andrea's right ear before it is killed. The back of the truck is filled with weapons crates of all sizes. From pistols right on up to ones large enough for stinger missile systems. The front cab has enough space for three, as well as two MP5s and an Uzi machine pistol. It also contains a map, new GPS coordinates, and instructions to rendezvous with another black hand agent at the location just over the boarder. It should only be a two hour drive, even over rough terrain. Should be.

Mary looks up from her place in the truck. "Yes, sir?" she calls out, as she readies a pair of UZi's "Just been keeping the guns loaded."

Andrea hops in the back "nah you drive. I will play with the toys in the back" she offers up, hopping to the rear and settling in. "just listen for my scream if we get a tail." she is bleeding, her ear hanging like a dogs.

"Good. Either one of yall got then fancy super senses?" he asks as he throws the truck into drive and books it for the border...Trying his best to remember the place he was supposed to cross. Shit, if things go real bad, he can just ditch out...Save what weapons he can. Andrea and Mary could hold off the border patrol long enough to complete the mission..

The first ninety minutes of the journey is quiet enough, just the sand, rocks, and wind underneath the nearly full moon. Actually, it is quite pretty out here in the calm, the dark. The ripples of light across the windscreen is almost hypnotic, lulling one into a peaceful trance that might just lead to... "EL STOPPO! THIS IS POLICIA MEXICANO! STOP THE TRUCK!" From behind, there is the flash of a spotlight and someone screaming engrish into a bullhorn.

Mary offers 'I do." she says. "if you want, I can even establish a telepathic radio between us." she says. "In theory.." she pauses. "Ahh. The Po-Po. Shall we take them out?" she asks quietly.

He slams on the brakes and spits out quickly. "Andrea, you know how to use an Rpg? If not, fuckin trade places with me...Fast!" Van cracks the window and yells back in a very..girly.. voice. "We're coming out, Officer~~!!"

Andrea has already given the answer to that, with a loping grenade towards the flash of the police light. She laughs maniacally. She grabs a gun, hopefully it is loaded, and sprays into the air.

The first humvee in the line of two does not see the grenade in the darkness. It rolls underneath the front of it and explodes, instantly killing the driver and causing the front passenger tire to be shredded. The now unammaned machine goes completely out of control. Quick thinking soldiers jump out of it left and right, three in total, before it runs itself off the edge of a cliff. It falls silently for a few seconds, then there is a resounding crash and a massive fireball lights up the night sky like a flare.

Undeterred, the second humvee races towards the truck, painting it with its spotlight while the men on the ground and the men in the humvee begin to unload American made and purchased M16s. Bullets whizz past and Andrea and shatter the glass between the front and rear of the vehicle. More pepper the sides of the truck, opening large holes and causing shrapnel to fly thick.

Van the Man just jumps into the back of the truck and covers his head as the bullets start to fly. Clenching his eyes shut and concentrating hard....Nothing seems to happen. Yet.

...Van yells, in that same girly voice. "PLEASE! WE HAVE CHILDREN IN HERE!"

"find me more of those bombs that I can throw. Those were fuckin' fun" she says in glee, her fear nonexistant as her uzi ratatattatatats in a semi arc around them. "Hurry! pul the pins. I wanna throw em like in the circus arcade" Andrea orders

The three men on the ground beat a hasty retreat, winding up a few hundred yards further back hiding in some scrub brush. Then second humvee, however, slams directly into the back of the truck, pushing it forward five or six feet. A crazed mexican soldier leaps out of the gun nest and jumps onto the hood, shoving his gun in Andrea's direction and letting a steam of hot lead fly.

Ok, so his fancy little fuckin trick had failed him. He rolls foreward with the impact of the hummer hitting them and draws his pistol. Fuck these guns, he was using the one HE made. The one he knew wouldn't jam. He is quick on his feet, and snatches Mary in a headlock as he drags her out of the truck and starts to unload at the man on the hood. "GET THE FUCKING RPG STUPID!" he screams. Bang bang bang.. Using the Tzi as a morphing flesh shield the whole way.

"WHAT THE HELL IS an RPG?!?!?!?" Andrea screams at Van as she stands up, finding a crate of grenades, and starts lobbing them like she was playing skeeball, Ignoring the bullets of the man on the hood of the humvee "Can you only talk in acronyms? GTFO and LOL FUCKER!"

Mary morphs herself into a shielf over Van and murmurs something "Van You...ack!" she make a good bullet sponge at least. "Aren't I better used jumping on the roof and tearing at these guys?"

The flesh shield comes in handy as a half a dozen bullets whizz past Van's ears, two more actually strike Marion in the chest, causing minimal damage. The man on the hood, however, is not so lucky. A lucky shot from Van catches him in the brain stem and its like a puppet with the strings cut. Being as close as they are and with the spotlight on, the humvee driver sees the grenades and throws his truck in reverse, speeding away just as the grenades start to explode. As a result, they're really much more damaging to Team Vampire then Team Mexico. The humvee loses a tire and spins out of control, winding run up and stuck on some rocks. The two-ton truck however loses two tires, and Andrea's pretty face gets well shredded by shrapnel blasting into it. Even more of the former grenades make it, once again, into Marion.

The explosions make good cover, and in the chaos, he slips from behind Marion and up into the back of the truck...If andrea is in his way, fuck it, he'd do his best to shove her out of it to get tot he RPGs, shouldering one and aiming it at the now immobile hummer, blasting off, and immediately working to reload before the first shot has even made impact...

Andrea turns to watch Van "THAT isn't an RPG, that is like ... like a missile!" She turns around "who is driving the fuckin' truck?" she stretches her torn up body to peer to the front of the truck "WHY aren't you driving?? I could have handled the weenies"

The RPG, for the one glorious flight of its lifetime, is straight and true, slamming into the humvee and sending superheated copper throughout the cabin, killing the occupants. Luckily for the bad news vampire crew, the truck IS still drivable, albeit at a vastly reduced speed.

Mary starts to peel away from her shielf position, melting her way around the inside of the truck. In blood form covers the windows and doors, in a thin, protective shield, trying to protect the cabin. She knows she can take a lot of damage, and hopefully keep the truck together. She bubbles but is unable to talk in this form.

Van has a very grim look on his face as the night explodes with fire and death. To Andrea, all he says is a simple. "No hablas englase." in the worst fucking Spanish ever and then gets back to driving, pushing the old clunker as hard as he can...

Andrea glares as Van climbs out of the back to scurry to the cab, to get the truck going again. She starts rooting in the crates for other weaponry, and if the player knew anymore about this stuff she would totally ham it up. But alas. "I will no hablas your ass! WAit till we get home!" she calls out, lifting another round of weaponry to her shoulder and guarding their rear as they go forward to the border again.

The rest of the border crossing goings without incident. About two hours late the team finally rolls into the designated rendezvous point. Turns out, it is an abandoned truck stop somewhere just inside the States. Waiting there for them is another black hand agent who flashes his sigil at them as soon as they pull up.

Van the Man nods to the agent and points to the truck with his thumb as he hops out. "Worse for ware, but the goods are in tact." he says in a very serious sort of voice. "Further orders, or are we heading home?" he asks, standing stock straight like a good little solider.

Andrea is a bit bloody, but then so is Mary. She brushes at her clothing, trying to get out of the truck with a dainty, princess like movement. Debutante Andrea is back, and scowling at the dirt that stained her lovely shirt.

"Get in the car and report back to Markus," the agent tells Van tersely, then dismisses him. There is in fact a black sedan a few feet behind the agent, already running and ready to go. Wasting no time, the stranger gets in the truck, makes sure everyone is out, then drives it into one of the garage bays meant for a tractor trailer. The door closes behind him and does not open again.

Mary starts to move away from teh indows nad doors once everything is clear. She forms herself back into the seat, her face expressionless as she watches between the two. She bleeds heavily on top of injuries she had earlier.

Van the Man trots off to the Sedan. He infact hadn't said a single word to either lady since claiming he didn't know english...It didn't look like he was planning on changing that, either.