Post by Vio on Oct 7, 2015 10:03:47 GMT -5
Every passing minute seemed like an eternity, the wagons loaded with their unexpected cargo sailing across the frozen tundra of Ice Nine, creaking and rattling in the wake of the swift clopping of horse hooves upon hardened permafrost. Five or ten minutes went by quite quickly to some, but to Verdelet Greene and his comrades – Toshiro and Stefan – it seemed like an hour, their senses sharpened and ready for any flaws in their plan. Infiltrating a Revolutionary Army hideout? That seemed like a walk in the park when compared to the mechanised medic’s current predicament, huddled up within the darkened confines of the carriage as it wheeled its way into new territories. The uneven slopes of the open tundra seemed to smooth out as the triumvirate of wagons slowed their pace, indicative of the flat roads carved in the earth by the peoples of the island. The sounds of light chatter from outside only further served to paint a picture in the recruit’s mind of where they had ended up and, considering the scent of explosive material, he did not like it one bit.
The amount of gunpowder here is enough to stock a whole gun deck’s worth of cannon… Just one spark and this crate could topple a building if they placed it right… Fearful of the possibilities, Mister Greene cast jade hues to his company, eyes having long since adjusted to the murkiness of present environs. Toshiro, who squatted to his left, met his gaze and nodded slowly. Stefan likely understood the situation by now, too, the three young men on edge as the wagon came to a halt. The vague rays of icy light that filtered in from the tarpaulin cover’s edges had dulled somewhat by now, likely a sign that they now sat somewhere were the ice and snow and frost were far less abundant. Somewhere settled where the activity of the common people kept nature’s grasp from taking a firm hold. This had to be the town proper, which meant that multiple lives were at risk.
Feels like we’re turning off… The gentle roll of the wagon suddenly shifting and pitching, the solar-powered cyborg was forced to grip the timbers of the cart to prevent himself from colliding with Toshiro, the likes of whom would probably not enjoy having a steely limb (even if it was padded by clothing) jammed into his side. Fortunately, the ‘thunk’ of his movements was masked by the groans and cries of the frosty woodwork as the horse guided it around a corner. What made this all the more frightening was the unknown quantity that rode along with them, the enemy having kept mostly quiet for the journey and thus hiding the numbers. Two or three? Or half a dozen? The exact numbers were unknown, though there was definitely more than one of them. Hopefully, Nana and Lt. Amyot would make it through this ordeal as well.
“Governor’s house, dead ahead,” said one of Belmonte’s men, unintentionally alerting their mystery cargo. Again, the three seamen exchanged glances, Stefan leaning forwards slightly and ready to spring from cover. Toshiro shifted slightly, too, giving a bit of leeway for Verdelet who reached for his combat knife strapped to his thigh. Really, this was his only weapon, discounting the unusual advantage he had over many men. Steel limbs made good improvised weapons, a punch from his cybernetic arm more than enough to deal some damage; and if armaments failed him, his knowledge of physiology gave the upper hand in a brawl. The ability to dislocate a man’s shoulder – or otherwise strain their bones and muscles – was a good one to have.
“Here’s hoping this goes smooth-like,” another said from above, “else Lady Boss is gonna have our hides.”“Easy, Jonny. This should be quick ‘n’ easy! They’re already expecting us, anyway.”“Yeah. World Gov’ won’t know what hit ‘em!”They want to blow up the Governor’s house!? Eyes widening with the shock of greater understanding, the diminutive doctor had not quite expected a plan of such grand scale as this. This package of black powder, more than enough to topple a three-story house if placed right, was just one of three. The others, with which his new comrades travelled, were likely assigned to other areas of the town. In all honesty, Ice Nine itself was hardly the bustling city one would expect, but it had its highlights thanks to the works of the World Government and their naval forces. The Governor himself, appointed by orders of the WG, dealt with most of the island’s political business. Damaging his home would shake him physically and mentally, but if he was caught in the blast? Well, disaster could strike. The only other viable targets Verdelet could think of, calling upon his knowledge of the island, were the harbour and perhaps the Marine Base itself. If the Revolutionaries were aiming this high, then those two would be good targets.
Once more, the wagon turned a corner, this time sloping uphill slightly as its riders guided it along the final stretch towards the building which typically housed the Governor and a good ninety percent of his business dealings. Much of the island’s economic and political information flowed through this establishment, the destruction of which could shatter the country’s status. It seemed strange that this force, as small as it seemed to be, could think so big. The mastermind – Angelina Belmonte – likely knew exactly what she was doing, perhaps holding quite a prestigious placement among the forces that flew that red flag. Verdelet held his breath, well aware that the time to strike was almost upon him…