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The President's Family [Ch 5: The Rendezvous (2)]
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PostPosted: Sun May 29, 2011 12:35 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I'm catching the pace quite nicely actually. Perhaps, in your rush, you cease some tendancies towards overembellishment and give us the goods as they are. It is helping, I think. I very much look forward to each of your chapters to a degree that surpasses most sgs. There was a bit of a leap where I wasn't sure how Faustino had become aware of the most recent developments by the time he was meeting with (the surprisingly female) Tony. But I assume he'd been briefed somehow.

As for the DP... hmm... I feel I need to know a little more about this 'rebel' faction before committing to a decision. How have they become a CIA target? And why, if the CIA took care of our problem, would we assume we would be able to get our hands on that group's moolah?

I think, initially speaking, that we have more loyalty to our brother and our government than we do for a charming rogue stranger who offered us momentary support when it was needed. But we must understand the political situation this insinuates.
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PostPosted: Sun May 29, 2011 4:25 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:
There was a bit of a leap where I wasn't sure how Faustino had become aware of the most recent developments by the time he was meeting with (the surprisingly female) Tony. But I assume he'd been briefed somehow.


Yes, I may have not made it quite clear, but Silvia briefed him in this portion of the chapter:

Quote:
On the drive back from the prison, I had called my brother to recount to him Gus’s warning and my interview with Sanchez.

He was incredulous and infuriated, warning me that I had stepped into dangerous ground through my use of his authority. What if the world found out he had a deal with a cartel boss? He admonished.

I replied that it’d be much worse if people’s lives were sacrificed. He sighed and then continued to chastise me, but in a more subdued manner, as if my statement had made him reconsider.


As for your questions:

Quote:
I feel I need to know a little more about this 'rebel' faction before committing to a decision. How have they become a CIA target? And why, if the CIA took care of our problem, would we assume we would be able to get our hands on that group's moolah?


That is indeed suspicious, isn't it? Does the CIA have a hidden agenda? Maybe they had secret dealings with the rebel faction they aren't willing to talk about.

The rebels... I will speak more of them in the future, but just think of them as the remnants of the Old Guard (kind of like the Contras in Nicaragua) except that in the last 10 yrs their objectives have been transforming. How have they been transforming? You'll have to read the next chapters!

As for the money, it would be awkward for the CIA to justify how they obtained it. Rather than keep it, better to use it to buy off the future president's favor, right? The money should not be traced back to them, as it could be a liability. Or anyways, who knows why they are agreeing to this.

I am hinting that the decision isn't as easy as it seems once you begin to question the underlying motives. Perhaps Silvia needs to find out the truth on her own? Very Happy
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PostPosted: Mon May 30, 2011 1:03 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ok, then, since we have enough questions to wonder what the CIA is up to here, I say we simply tell them that since we don't know the man they are talking about, all we can do is have our police look for him, put out a wanted notice or something of the sort and if we take him in, we'll hold him for them.

This gives us a personal opportunity to at least press the man for some answers before making up our minds on what we really want to do there. And the CIA SHOULDN'T be any wiser as to us knowing him personally.
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PostPosted: Tue May 31, 2011 12:01 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Where are all my readers? 5 people voted in the last poll, arent you interested in the outcome?

Cmon, if you want to see this story continue, leave a comment; let me know youre still there.

I do this for my readers... if not, there is no point.

This is a speed storygame-- some higher than usual interactivity and participation is required. That should be fun, and the chapters are short.

Get yer drunken behinds outta der Inn and participate!
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PostPosted: Tue May 31, 2011 12:30 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I'll be catching up today! Sorry, had a lot of work to do... Sad
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PostPosted: Fri Jun 03, 2011 5:44 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

It was suggested that I read this. I can see why. This has been very interesting and seems to be the showing of a very talented master-author.

Who's running this country anyhow? I suppose we can consider our character the one really calling the shots here. And I think we should take it all by the balls. Agree to the CIA's deal hands down. They are one of the few allies I would truly WANT on my side. There is no room for prissy little emotions in a position like this. Maybe down the road, later.

Allow them to put a trace on her as she goes to meet with him so they can identify his location. But we cannot allow him or anyone who may know him to think we've betrayed him so they must agree to get him well and after we leave. We can slip something in his coffee, a micro transmitter or something like that, or tag his pack when he isn't looking, so they can trace him after we leave.
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PostPosted: Fri Jun 03, 2011 7:31 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thanks for reading, Tazard. In response to your question about who runs the country-- it is a presidential system with a weak legislative branch.

Poll is up! Vote away. Lets have a good showing so as to extra motivate me to write the next chapter. Cool
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PostPosted: Sat Jun 04, 2011 3:04 pm    Post subject: I Think...... Reply with quote

Sorry for taking so long to read it. I'm heading to MN in a few days, so this week has been hectic, and the IFQ issue didn't help any in giving me time. I catually yelled at Thunder-sama for putting out his newest chapter WHILE I was finishing up the paper Razz

I missed the suggestion phase, sorry *Bows* which sux cause I'd say, screw it all and run off with the hot guy, but that's just me. Razz See how I react under preassure Laughing Anyway, I'm liking this. I think I only stimbled over one sentance, and I don't even rememebr which one it is, so Meh. And it seems I'm the only one gunning for patriotism here. *Giggles*

Anyway, sorry it took so long, but I'm still here and enjoying! You can do it!
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 06, 2011 10:22 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Poll results:

How is Silvia driven to act?
She reveals about her encounter with the sought after man and offers to place a trace on him
66% [ 4 ]
She reveals nothing and investigates independently before placing the man in the hands of the CIA
33% [ 2 ]

Total Votes : 6
Who Voted: Chinaren, Cyberworm, Phantomfan, PopeAlessandrosXVIII, Tainted Biohazard, Thunderbird

Very well then, try to remain calm as I prepare the next chapter and its many unexpected turns of events! Cool
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 12:15 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

This story just keeps getting more and more complex! And longer. Which is why I've decided to split the following chapter into two parts. I hope this method proves less onerous for the reader.

If you are enjoying this storygame, please leave a comment or add it to your favorites! Smile


Chapter 5: The Rendezvous

Part 1

The contours of the young man’s features rose from out of the smudgy photograph as if they intended to materialize in front of me. I tore my eyes away from the picture and turned to the CIA operative, Tony Summers, in a state of confused agitation.

“I know this man!” I blurted. I wanted to say more, but the discovery had momentarily scattered my thoughts. Faustino reacted with equal surprised, although he betrayed himself only in reaching involuntarily for my hand and gripping it. Mrs. Summers leaned in, pointing at me with her aquiline nose, as her eyes grew rounder and more attentive.

“How do you know such a man?” Faustino questioned, his face full of concern.

“I meant, that I don’t exactly know him; I just met him this morning by the main square. He said he would call me for a date tonight,” I blushed, only because of how easily I had agreed to meet with a stranger who I now found out was a dangerous guerrilla commander.

“That is intriguing, Ms. Silvia. Truly interesting,” Mrs. Summers pursed her thin lips, forming a perfect horizontal line underneath her nose. She gave off the appearance of possessing great focus. Mrs. Summers remained this way during a few instants until she spoke again, pronouncing every word steadily in her American accent.

“You have afforded us an excellent opportunity to apprehend our man, Ms. Silvia. If you would lend your assistance, we could capture him within days. All we need is to follow him, which could be achieved by means of a tracing device; one which you could tag on him if you attended your meeting with him.”

“Well, of course I’ll do anything I can to help my country,” I replied, my voice trembling a bit from emotion, “and if it means aiding the CIA in this mission, I won’t shrink away from my duty.”

“Brave girl,” grinned Mrs. Summers in her unusual way.

“Will she be in any danger?” Faustino inquired gravely.

“There is a certain degree of risk, of course,” Mrs. Summers responded, “but Ms. Silvia will be closely monitored and followed by our agents at all times.”

“I accept. It’s decided, then,” I interjected, making known to my brother that I was capable of shouldering my own responsibilities. Mrs. Summers, nonetheless, turned to him for confirmation. Faustino expressed his acquiescence with a gesture of approval.

“Very well,” said Mrs. Summers, “in that case, Silvia, dear, I expect you at the U.S. Embassy in a few hours’ time.”

“Now, shall we discuss the cartel operation, Mrs. Summers?” Faustino demanded, revealing what was foremost in his mind. Mrs. Summers’ mouth, crooked because of her grin, flattened into a straight line as if it were the string of a bow that had been plucked and now returned to its taut resting position.

“Of course, Don Faustino,” she began, speaking quickly and determinedly, “The CIA has had its eye on the otxiloas even since they built their base in the Machaco mountains. It isn’t out of complete altruism that we aid you, for it’s one of our own priorities to halt the drug trade which supplies the U.S.

“As you are aware, they have a light militia defending their base-- which is a three story building with an underground bunker surrounded by a small plantation. The twenty men or so defending it are armed with M-16 machine guns and have possibly obtained one or two Stinger shoulder-fired anti-aircraft missiles. Do you have some extra uniforms to spare?” Mrs. Summers paused suddenly.

“Army uniforms? Yes, we can provide you with those as long as they are returned,” Faustino declared.

“Then we will disguise our men in your uniforms,” Mrs. Summers added, “And we’ll have a team of your special forces with us as well. It’ll appear to be a mission authorized by the state. When this ends, nobody will suspect the CIA had any part in the mission.

“The key will be the element of surprise. It’ll be a stealth operation that takes place in the darkest hour of the night. To begin, our snipers will take out any guards who might be able to spot us. Then we’ll descend in parachutes and drop on them before they’ve realized what hit them. Your men will secure the perimeter and deal with any possible reinforcements that may show up, and my men will land directly on the rooftop of the house-bunker. From there, we’ll penetrate the bunker and catch them sleeping.”

“Congratulations, Mrs. Summers,” Faustino applauded energetically, “It is truly a laudable plan. I have a few good men who will obey me even though I am not sworn in to office just yet. These I will assign to the mission and they’ll undoubtedly learn a great deal from your forces.”

I excused myself momentarily to use the restroom. As I sat on the toilet, however, my phone began ringing from within my purse. At first I ignored it, but gradually I became irritated by its incessant buzzing and reached for it in order to turn it off. As I glanced at the phone’s screen, which informed that the call was made by a restricted number, I became curious and at last relented to answering the phone.

“Primita, was I right?” rung out Cousin Gus’ raspy voice as soon as I had delivered the customary greeting, “I don’t know what kind of deal you worked out with Sanchez, but he’s called off the killing.”

“You’re always a genius at introductions, Gus,” I jabbed ironically.

“Yeah, whatever. You don’t even know how lucky you are I warned you. I stuck my neck out for you, primita. If it weren’t for that, they would’ve killed that whole convent of nuns you used to be in. Cuz that’s one of the things they were talking about doing.”

My blood ran cold. I turned off my phone without apologizing to Gus. Those murderers, they would have massacred a whole convent of innocent, pious women! How enraged I was; despite all the distasteful conflict within the nunnery, I had many fond memories of my time spent there. The fiends had been days away from destroying all that.
And yet, I myself was hoping to pacify those blood-thirsty monsters. For how long could I expect that it would work?

These dark forebodings were interrupted by a cry from downstairs. A voice, which I recognized with growing apprehension as that of my brother, intoned:

… te voglio beeeene assai…

I pulled up my pants and hurried into the hallway. My mother, Rosaura, who had remained outside of the conversation in the kitchen by busying herself with chores (although she may in fact have been listening on the sly), evidently had come looking for me as soon as she detected Faustino’s strange behavior. In her usual lighthearted manner, she informed me,

“Your brother’s gone off the loop again. You better do something before he scares all the birds away.”

…ma tanto taaaanto beeeene assai…

Together, we arrived at the kitchen, where a perplexed Mrs. Summers was hesitating between pursing her lips and grinning crookedly, thus providing some sort of rhythmic accompaniment to Faustino’s atonal bellows.

“Ah, Mrs. Summers,” I exclaimed over the commotion with feigned cheerfulness, “my brother is so fond of a good joke! But please, I must ask you a most important question in private. If you would allow me to escort you to your car.”

Mrs. Summers glanced at Faustino, who fortunately had just finished the song’s refrain and was fanning himself to prepare another musical assault, before deciding that it was time to go. Since Mrs. Summers’ back was turned to me, I communicated to my mother through gestures that she’d better contain her son’s screaming larynx. Whilst the CIA agent and I exited the kitchen, I peripherally caught sight of Rosaura grabbing a roll of duct tape.

Although I had invented an excuse in order to get Mrs. Summers to withdraw from the house, I did in fact harbor a question which weighed heavily on me.

“Do you think that the young man… Rubén Graciela…” I asked as we approached her car, which was parked outside, “do you think that our meeting this morning was planned?”

“It’s hard to tell what his purpose is, Ms. Silvia. But I wouldn’t trust a word he says.”

Mrs. Summers opened the door to her car and dropped into the driver’s seat. As the motor rumbled into action, she shouted through the open window:

“Let me know immediately if Graciela calls. Don’t get nervous-- just agree to meet with him in a public space. I’ll expect you this evening at the embassy! I’ll issue further instructions then.”

And she drove off in a cloud of dust.

I heard muffled cries coming from inside the house, from which I inferred that Faustino was being subjected to a disciplinary treatment. Notwithstanding my mother’s adroitness at applying duct tape, I needed somebody dependable to take care of Faustino until the madness passed, as I myself would have to attend the embassy. I dialed Lozano’s number and I soon had the chief advisor on the line. Alarmed by Faustino’s state, he agreed to the task.

I leaned on the balustrade of the veranda, musing about the events to come. Over the last two days, Faustino’s bouts of madness had occasioned so many unpredictable circumstances. Not to mention the drugs, my deal with Sanchez, and now… a potential friend and lover turned into an enemy. Was there more, perhaps, to Rubén Graciela than what I was being led to believe?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Please feel free to comment. It'll serve for me to gauge whether most people have caught on and whether it's appropriate to post the next part. Smile

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<


Last edited by D-Lotus on Tue Jun 07, 2011 9:51 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 1:13 am    Post subject: I Think...... Reply with quote

I likes it. Most invigorating! I love the Bro's singing bouts, they give me bouts of the giggles. I think I'm keeping up, but there was one point of 'Huh?' Now, the CIA are going to help you kill their own men? Am I getting that right? Other than that, s'all good!
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 3:57 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Everything seems to be going in Silvia's favour at the moment, although I can't help thinking that if the CIA were going to go for the oxtillas anyway we could have concentrated on relocating those indigenous tribes. But hey, if the killings have been called off for now that can't be a bad thing.

Maybe Sanchez is more interested in knowing whether he's got someone with high connections who is willing to work for him rather than whether she is capable of pulling off those tricks.

But... this Ruben guy is an unknown quantity. I'm not going to speculate further on what part he has to play, I just wanna know what happens at this date. Very Happy

All caught up now, and ready to read on. Smile
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 5:41 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Muy buen, zis chapter. I think we made the right choice, for if we went for the tribes we wouldn't get the info on Rubén. Now we can play double-agent, and work with double the information and insight.

On to part 2! Bwahahaha!! Smile
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 10:04 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:
I think I'm keeping up, but there was one point of 'Huh?' Now, the CIA are going to help you kill their own men? Am I getting that right?


Not at all. The CIA is in charge of an operation to take out a drug cartel known as the otxiloas. This is the cartel that is in direct competition with that of Sanchez-- the man Silvia made a deal with in the prison.

The CIA forces will lead the operation, but a group of soldiers who obey Faustino's command will aid them in the task.

@ Crunchy: Although it's true the CIA had an eye on the otxiloas, it was Faustino's request that afforded them the opportunity to take covert action by posing as forces of the state.

As for speculation, I welcome it! This story is not set in stone by any means (I haven't even written Part 2 as of yet), so any suggestions or speculations you may have may end up becoming part of the story.

@ Cy: Thanks for reading. Yes, that's very true that Silvia could play both sides. That's actually a great idea. Very Happy
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 8:13 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Great chapter! No qualms with the quality whatsoever.

But I'm upset.

How FOOLISH can we be to be allowing them to go in disguised as US???? Pose some other mutual foe as the bad guy! This is likely to start a war with us on the losing end! She needs to snap out of this guy being her only concern and realize what's been done and rectify it NOW!

As for the rebel, she needs to do some independant investigation before moving any farther in this direction. Pull up some online research on his organization before fully committing. We can always attempt to warn him of what's transpired somehow without tipping off the CIA, playing along with what they want of us without it actually bringing harm to Ruben - we cannot be sure we are so willing to allow this hammer to fall yet. But we did need the CIA here so we may have to play 'double agent' at the moment.
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 9:45 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:
How FOOLISH can we be to be allowing them to go in disguised as US???? Pose some other mutual foe as the bad guy! This is likely to start a war with us on the losing end! She needs to snap out of this guy being her only concern and realize what's been done and rectify it NOW!


That's an excellent point. On the other hand, a succesful mission spearheaded by state forces would be a boon to Faustino's presidency-- especially if it were timed to coincide with his speech the day he is sworn in. It would cause a greatly favorable impression, I'm sure, despite the dubious constitutionality of his actions.

Besides, nobody is sure what the response of the otxiloas will be. Seeing as they operate mostly in a neighboring country, their men and resources may be stretched. It could be that they would be unable or unwilling to retaliate in the way Sanchez was threatening.

Nonetheless, it's an excellent observation and I'll consider leaving the question up to a poll, although I'd first like to see whether there are any other reactions to this possible debate.
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PostPosted: Thu Jun 09, 2011 10:10 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

A quick note that I'm still here reading - it's just quite the pain trying to do lengthy replies on my phone whilst I'm home Internet-less.

Keep it coming Smile
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PostPosted: Fri Jun 10, 2011 9:49 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Here's the second installment. It's actually quite a bit of a lead-up for a DP which offers, seemingly, very little choice. You guys, however, always surprise me with the plans you're able to conceive, so I'm counting on that. Regardless of the simplicity of choice, it's still an important decision that will change the course of the narrative (as with all DPs in this storygame).

Enjoy, as this may be the last chapter in a while (due to velleities in my personal life).

As always, leave a comment or mark The Prez's Family as your favorite if you can't get enough! Very Happy


Chapter 5: The Rendezvous

Part 2

As it was only early afternoon, I decided to pay a visit to the cartel boss, Ignacio Sanchez, at the Santa Guadalupe prison. After driving up the serpentine road to the prison gates in the shaky Soviet-era automobile I had borrowed, however, I didn’t think my stomach could handle the sight of the criminal’s hideous sneer. Instead, I delivered a note to him through the warden, assuring Sanchez that the mission to root out the otxiloas from the Machaco mountains was in a planning stage. As a precaution, I didn’t sign my name to it, although I told the warden to let the prisoner know it was from a government source.

Before returning to the city, I found a secluded spot at the edge of the bluff where the prison was built. I watched the wind in friction with the sea and the waves licking the crags between rocks. It was then that Ruben Graciela texted.

Silvia meet me @ 8 tonite by Café San Angel

I decided to check in to the U.S. embassy at once and inform Mrs. Summers directly.

The embassy was an inconspicuous building, previously the two-story house of a prosperous trader that had fallen into disrepair after his death. It had been slightly remodeled and adapted for its new purpose. The only sign that gave it away as U.S. territory was a billowing American flag on the building’s balcony and a small plaque on the door that read: Embajada de E.E.U.U.

I parked in the backyard alongside a few other cars, one of which I identified as Mrs. Summers’. Afterwards, I passed through a quick security check at the entrance and was admitted to a waiting room with a receptionist’s desk, a small table, and a few chairs. The magazines on the table, such as Time and The New Yorker, were dated from a few years ago.

I didn’t have to wait long before Mrs. Summers appeared at one of the doors leading away from the waiting room and beckoned for me to follow her. She led me into an elegantly decorated sitting room which had obviously conserved much of the original furniture belonging to the house; the couches, desk, and even the carpet exuded an antique odor.

The patio doors which opened into the balcony were covered in thick, dark curtains, the shutters on the windows remained closed, and an electric chandelier with two large light bulbs on either side pended from the ceiling, shedding the only light over the sequestered room. There was no trace of the daylight outside.

I carefully avoided standing under the chandelier, despite it being much lighter than the one which had crashed at the hotel, El Imperial, during Faustino’s press conference.

“He wants to meet me at 8 by the Café San Angel,” I spoke immediately, without waiting to be addressed.

Before Mrs. Summers could answer, a man emerged from the door behind us bearing a suitcase of equipment in his hand.

“This is Mr. Larsson; he’ll be equipping you with the trace, microphone, and a weapon to defend yourself in case of an emergency. He’ll also be following you to the location to ensure your security.”

Mr. Larsson smiled encouragingly. He was a tall, light haired man with a rosy nose-tip. He had characteristically Norwegian features, including clear, blue eyes. How exactly he was expected to move about inconspicuously is a mystery to me. Mrs. Summers herself, perhaps, did not realize the attention that pale skin drew to oneself in Guyana-Guyana, a country predominantly composed of mulattos.

Mr. Larsson handed me an envelope with powder inside. He explained it was potassium-40, enhanced by a special compound. I was to dump the contents of the envelope in Rubén’s drink. Once in his system, the potassium-40, already a natural element in the human body albeit in smaller quantities, would emit a specific kind of radioactive particle that could be picked up at medium distances by a special sensor. The enhanced potassium-40 would remain in his organism for a few days before evacuating through waste product.

Mr. Larsson also provided me with a small hand-held gun that I could hide under my skirt in a leg holster. Then he fitted me with the listening device, a miniscule microphone with a battery pack attached at torso level. Once he had completed giving me instructions, he quietly left the room with his suitcase in hand.

Before parting, I had the sudden urge to ask Mrs. Summers something disconnected from the business at hand. This doubt, which had planted its seed in me earlier that day, surfaced now unexpectedly.

“There is something regarding the planning of the otxiloa mission that puzzles me. Why should the mission appear to be spearheaded by the state? Won’t this draw retaliation from the otxiloas?” I remarked, concealing the fact that the drug bust at the old manor had drawn such a reaction from Sanchez’s cartel.

“Ah, well,” Mrs. Summers replied, punctuating her explanation with the ever-arising, crooked grin, “We believe that the otxiloas are spread thin as it is. They operate mostly in a neighboring country and don’t have the resources to mount a surprise attack on civilians without being noticed beforehand. A solid punch will make them lose their foothold on the mountains, and they’ll be reeling from that for a while.

“Besides, think of how popular it will make your brother if the news is timed to be announced on the day of his inauguration address. After airing his unusual habits on TV, he needs the positive publicity.”

My question having been convincingly answered, I opened the door to the waiting room, intending to step out.

“We’ll be with you every step of the way, Ms. Silvia,” Mrs. Summers added as an afterthought, “Just follow instructions, and you’ll be fine. Never reveal that you know his true identity.”

I clenched my jaw decidedly, nodded, and let myself out of the U.S. embassy.

*

As I approached the café in the late evening, a sense of dread mixed with excitement was beginning to settle into the very marrow of my bones.

The Café San Angel, in contrast, was a haven straight out of Hemingway novel: a clean, well-lighted place. It had a friendly, colorful atmosphere, and there was a comfortable bustle about the place. A TV monitor with the sound turned off was ensconced in the corner above the bar. People were sitting on the outside terrace or congregated around the bar counter. Among these last was Rubén.

He was in the same clothes as I had seen on him in the morning. I approached him nervously, hoping he wouldn’t notice the microphone taped to my body. In order to conceal it, I was wearing a loose blouse and a floral summer skirt that reached to my knees.

He noticed me and greeted me with a friendly wave. He had a drink in his hand. I noticed he had shaved and smelt of cologne, so that he didn’t appear so haggardly as when I had met him.

“Hello, Silvia, can I get you something to drink?” he asked with a pleasant smile.

“I’ll have some chicha*,” I smiled back, my reaction feigned only in part. This was, after all, the most exciting date I had been in. It’s not everyday one gets to meet a man wanted by the CIA; I admit, somewhat reluctantly, that the danger was arousing.

As he turned to the barista to order, I noticed Mr. Larsson sitting on the opposite end of the café watching us. His presence reminded me of the potassium powder in my purse. I was waiting for Ruben to be distracted for a moment so that I could slip it into his drink. So far, the rebel officer hadn't noticed the covert CIA agent, although quite a few people regarded the Scandinavian with curiosity.

“Silvia, I’ve got to say,” Ruben began hesitantly, but then as if leaping into another state of mind, he was all at once in earnest, “although you’re a very beautiful woman in my opinion, that’s not why I asked to meet with you. You see, I’m in a grave situation, and I need your help.”

By the end of this utterance, he was close to me, almost pleading. His forward way of leaning in and whispering into my ear at first made me apprehensive, but then the meaning of his words struck me.

“What do you mean?” I was a bit startled by his sincerity, even though I already had an inkling of why he sounded so desperate.

“There are… people… after me,” he spoke so close to me that I could feel his breath crawling into my ear; I wasn’t sure whether the microphone was picking it up, “I need protection. I need your help; I need your brother’s help. I saw you this morning, I already knew who you were. I had waited there all morning in fact, waiting to see you. But I couldn’t tell you then, and I still… still can’t tell you. Not all of it, anyway.

“Please don’t be frightened, I can see you are getting frightened, maybe. I’ll explain; I have something of tremendous value, and they’re trying to steal it from me. They’re trying to murder me and then they’ll steal it. That’s why I need protection… your brother and I, we can share what I’ve discovered…”

At that point, his wild appeal was interrupted by something. An unusual, heated argument between two men had reached its climax in the section of the café where Mr. Larsson sat. My view of him was obstructed by the gathering people.

I noticed, however, that it wasn’t the commotion which had halted Ruben’s speech. He was, rather, staring up at the TV screen. I glanced up as well. A photograph of him, though not the one shown to me, was being displayed. Underneath it, a band of text read the following:

In video sent to news channel, fugitive rebel Ruben Graciela branded a traitor by rebel leader.

The fugitive looked about himself furtively, hoping nobody had recognized him from the photo.

“Come,” he invited, before ducking out towards the exit. I, too, looked around to catch sight of Mr. Larsson; unfortunately, he was entangled in the group of people who had circled around the fighting men to break them up.

I hadn’t had time to place the potassium trace in Ruben’s drink. If he left now, he might elude capture. On the other hand, following him under the circumstances-- without Larsson’s surveillance-- could prove dangerous and even reckless.

* chicha= beer fermented from corn
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PostPosted: Fri Jun 10, 2011 11:27 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

No time to be a pussy here... go with him immediately!

The plot is shaping up quite nicely. I love all the various elements of tension you're weaving together here - very well done and skillful SGing along with top notch writing. The mention of the magazines really helped set the scene for me too. Don't know why but that was a stark and brilliant detail.
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PostPosted: Sat Jun 11, 2011 6:35 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Well well, excelente! ;D

Since potassium-40 is supposed to be ingested, but there is no time, and seeing how Rubén is still in his same clothes, I say follow him part way, and then kiss or something, and while cuddling and touching rub in the potassium into his skin when she puts her hands under the back of his shirt... could work, since everything you come in contact with penetrates the skin if left long enough on it.

So, I say rub the potassium into his skin yourself. Preferably on his back, or even the back of his neck. Very Happy
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PostPosted: Sat Jun 11, 2011 1:04 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Swallow the potassium ourselves inconspicuously as we follow him. This gives us an excuse - we meant for ourselves to be tracked while with him and didn't have time to tag him with it (not mentioning that in some ways we still aren't sure we want to fully turn him in.)
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2011 5:13 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Excellent response! I hadnt even thought about those possibilities!

Ok, poll is up. Drink the sweet juices of democracy.
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PostPosted: Wed Jun 15, 2011 1:31 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Cmon, dont forget to vote!
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PostPosted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 7:44 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

You've certainly had less votes than you deserve here but it IS rather one sided... lol
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PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 4:04 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

How does Silvia proceed?
She stays put. Graciela isnt a priority.
0% [ 0 ]
She follows and attempts to rub the trace on Gracielas skin.
0% [ 0 ]
She follows and ingests the trace herself.
100% [ 4 ]

Total Votes : 4
Who Voted: Chinaren, Cyberworm, Midnight, Thunderbird

Cren always pulling in that last vote since he became speed storygame mod. I wonder, is that a hint that I should get a move along? Wink

Im happy with the number of votes, as long as those who voted have read the story and are making an informed decision. Id be disappointed if I had many votes, but they were all randomly chosen.

Ok, Ill get to work on the next chapter, although it might take longer than usual.
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PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 7:52 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:
Im happy with the number of votes, as long as those who voted have read the story and are making an informed decision. Id be disappointed if I had many votes, but they were all randomly chosen.

A good perspective I shall have to keep in mind myself I think.
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 12:59 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

D-Lotus wrote:
How does Silvia proceed?
Cren always pulling in that last vote since he became speed storygame mod. I wonder, is that a hint that I should get a move along? Wink


Yes, it is.

D-Lotus wrote:

Im happy with the number of votes, as long as those who voted have read the story and are making an informed decision. Id be disappointed if I had many votes, but they were all randomly chosen.


I think the fact we all went for the same choice would make that unlikely.

Oh, and...


You have 24 hours to post another chapter. Very Happy
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 6:30 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

At D's request this has been moved from the speed SGame area to the slow place.

Let this serve as a warning! Speed SGames are hard to do! I think D did damned well making it this far. Well done D.
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PostPosted: Sun Jul 03, 2011 8:52 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I've been lagging on trying to get another chapter written too, D-Lotus. I just hope we see you continue. This is a really good story!
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PostPosted: Wed Jul 06, 2011 2:31 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

... and it's given me a chance to catch up.

I'm here, ready and waiting for the next chapter!

Very Happy
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PostPosted: Sun Jul 10, 2011 8:33 pm    Post subject: Me Too! Reply with quote

Me too me too! Can we see mroe now?
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