Joined: 17 Jan 2008
Posts: 86
Location: Looking through your window while you sleep
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((This is a story I wrote for a character who is coming to Midian. For background on who she is, please see this thread. I had a lot of fun writing this, and, ironically, it's more than I wrote for my own character! Look for Rose Samet (SL name) ))
Ariana wasn't all that she seemed. From the moment she slipped from Arcann Dyrssen's arms out at sea, everything changed. Her eyes snapped open, and she held her breath as she faded down into the depths, unmoving except for her head, swivelling this way and that, looking for what she was expecting. Ten seconds later, she was surrounded by divers, two on silent underwater propeller-powered sleds, two more in the usual frogman garb of a Navy SEAL. One held out an octopus tube, giving her a breath of sweet air from his oxygen tank as they slowly made their way back to the submersible that had deployed them. The experiment was complete.
It took a lot of effort to lie as if unconscious in someone's arms for 72 hours without relief. But Rose O'Reilly was an actor. And a brilliant one. Plucked from her home in Belfast by a travelling troupe of actors, it wasn't long before someone noticed her on-stage acrobatics and deft movements amidst her heart-breakingly real character acting. Someone who could use her. It wasn't long until she was training with British Military Intelligence Division 5 - the famed MI5 - learning the most wicked forms of hand-to-hand combat known to man as she trained to become the female equivalent of James Bond - a silent, deadly, gorgeous killer. Her flaming red hair, her curvy body and her penchant for danger made her irresistible to her targets. Unfortunately for them, she had a 100% success rate. Well, a 98% success rate - MI5 had mistakenly assigned two agents to the task of killing one target. And the agent who had succeeded... Arcann Dyrssen.
Arc stepped into the office. Rose couldn't help but stare aghast at the man who had just put a silenced .45 caliber bullet through the skull of the corrupt businessman whose lap she had just been sitting in. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and fury - she had no idea where this man was from or who he was, but he'd just taken out the man she was about to inject with a deadly nerve toxin. As the blood pooled from the hole in his temple, she marched straight up to the man who had fired the Browning Hi-Power pistol, jabbing him in the chest with a perfectly manicured finger, her Irish brogue rolling off her tongue smoothly as she looked up at him "What's the big idea, ye great lummox! What did ye have ta go an' do that fer?" The man's face was somewhat astonished as he mumbled awkwardly "Erm... I'm MI5. It's what I do. Terribly sorry..." He raised the pistol, about to put another bullet through her skull. She simply stared past the barrel of the gun into his bright blue eyes, grumbling "Unless ye WANT ta kill anuther double-0, I'd put the peashooter away, boy." She rolled up her immaculate evening gown, revealing the chip implanted in her leg. Double-0's couldn't afford to carry identification if they were captured. So they all had tiny chips implanted upon their bodies to prove with a scanner who they were. His eyes widened as he quickly unscrewed the silencer, holstering the pistol as he mutters "Well we need to get the bloody hell out of here, young miss." "YOUNG MISS?" She shrieked, her face going as red as her hair as her voice reached a pitch usually reserved for calling dogs. The young English gentleman just sighed, grabbing her arm and leading her away at a run, easy enough in his combat boots, difficult for her in her sky-high stilletos. And that was how they met. Standing over the bloody corpse of a target they had both been assigned to.
MI5 apologised profusely for the mix-up, but seemed rather pleased that the pair of them had so effectively dispatched the corrupt businessman - something had obviously got lost in communication through the bureaucratic channels of the great Government machine. From there, they were partnered, the Mulder and Scully of MI5. And they HATED it. Rose hated Arcann's snobbishness, the way he held himself aloof, the way he acted as if he was all high and mighty, and the fact that he could shoot the wings off a fly's back so accurately the fly would still be a walking amputee. Arcann hated the way she could fly off the handle at the smallest infringement on his part, and the way her Irish accent grated on his ears, and the fact that she could put him on the mat in seven seconds flat in a hand-to-hand situation. But slowly, as mission stacked upon mission... they fell in love. It was a crazy love, a haphazard relationship filled with the turmoil of their work and the tumultuous pairing of their souls. But it was love, nonetheless, and whenever their flickering blue eyes met, hints of smiles appearing at the corners of their mouths... the connection was apparent for all to see. They didn't even know each other's real name, not until he asked her to marry him - they always called each other by their callsigns - Fox for Arcann, Lily for Rose. Until the day Rose got the call.
Rose had been selected by MI5 after observation by one or two of their fellow agents had alerted high command to their more-than-professional relationship. And instead of reprimanding them... MI5 had devised an experiment. This was an offer that Rose couldn't refuse, as they say, or she would be drummed out of the service. And so she accepted her mission, little knowing the devastating effect it would have on her love. The experiment was this: MI5 sought to determine the effects that broken relationships between agents would have when one partner was removed or injured or died. Rose was given a name for her to give to Arcann as her real one - Ariana. However, Rose was not given the full story. Rose was not told that she would be 'killed' for the experiment to be completed. Not until three days before their final mission together - a week after Arcann had made her the happiest woman in the world by asking her hand in marriage.
The mission was a simple one: a night infiltration/exfiltration operation of a ship suspected of illegally smuggling nuclear material down the English Channel. They would make their entry clad all in grey - black was a plot used in the movies, dark grey was actually a far better colour for moving at night - wetsuits on, night vision goggles and re-breathers just in case they had to make their entry from the water. They were in an inflatable raft, using paddles. An outboard would have been too noisy, so they needed all their strength and energy to make the one kilometre journey out to sea where the tanker was temporarily moored. What no one had told Arcann and Rose was that the crew had already been tipped off by MI5 as to their operation. They were set up from the beginning.
The boat drew closer, both of them maintaining strict silence as they drew closer. Arcann was at the back, his paddle dipping smoothly through the water as Rose watched from the front for a moment through her night-vision scope on her M4 carbine. Suddenly, his voice whispered in the cool sea breeze "I love you." She smiled slightly at him, barely visible in the darkness as he murmured "I love ye too, darling..." She turned back to watching the ship, frowning as she caught a hint of movement on deck. Arcann was a little preoccupied as he paddled, noting that for once, she wasn't wearing the ring he had given her. She hadn't taken it off since he had put it on her finger. But he just shrugged inwardly, thinking that she might not want to lose it in the water on their mission. He was more right than he thought. Suddenly... a spotlight flashed across the water, catching the inflatable in its beam almost instantly. Unbeknownst to the pair of them, MI5 had placed a tracker beacon on their raft, letting the smugglers know exactly where they were with a simple GPS. Five shots rang out across the water, carefully placed sniping from assault rifles on deck. The inflatable burst, five holes in the hull, two beneath the waterline. As it sank, Arcann quickly gathered Rose to him, slipping smoothly into the water as he murmured "Damn... someone tipped the buggers off." As the tanker weighed anchor, he flicked his night vision on to check on Rose, since she hadn't made a noise. She lay unconscious in his arms, blood trickling from the side of her head. It looked as if a bullet had struck her, knocking her out for the count. In reality, she had crushed a small blood capsule against the side of her head, letting her pretend to be near-comatose from a 'bullet'. She lay limp in his arms for an hour as he stroked her hair, waiting for her to wake up. She lay limp in his arms for a day as he whispered in her ear, hoping she would wake up. She lay limp in his fading arms for three days as his grip on her began to weaken, praying she would wake up. And finally... he let go. And Ariana was gone. Rose O'Reilly, however... had only just begun.
She heard of Arc's exploits as he made his way aimlessly around the world, having been granted a compassionate hardship discharge. She heard of what he did to Ariana's 'killers'. She heard of MI5's intelligence division following his activities in cities on every continent. His stint in Buenos Aires. His expert advice in New Delhi. His covert operations training in Kaliningrad. His assistance to SWAT in Los Angeles. His movements in Detroit. And that was it. It was as if the man she loved had vanished off the map. It was obvious that MI5 would not be asking him back, and so she resigned her commission, her heart broken as she ended up doing the same thing, wandering from place to place as she prayed that she might find him along the way. But as the months wore on, she lost hope. And so she arrived in the most hopeless of places in the world...
Midian City.
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"Bugger me sideways with a dead emu, the LAG!" |
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