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File: hartigan.gif (12 KB, 480x415)
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Welcome to Thug Quest, Part 3.

You are a washed-up ex-con, Johnny, used to the smell of gunsmoke and the pain of busted knuckles. 48 hours ago, you were just another nobody, trying to make a living with nothing to your name but two fists and a collection of scars. Then someone set you up, and tried to take you down. You don't know who it was. But you're going to do what it takes to find out.

You survived the attack with a million dollars cash, a new friend, and a lot of new enemies. That night, you met someone who might be a little of both, friend and enemy: Catherine, a nightclub owner. She claims to have the information you're looking for about the people who attacked you. Do a job for her, she says, and you'll get it, with a little extra besides. Fifty grand in cocaine, and some new wheels.

The job involves bringing some Japanese guy into the docks in South Harbor. Gangs down there tend to act like packs of stray dogs: violent, territorial, nothing to lose. So you've got to keep yourself and this guy alive in their turf, while he steals a vehicle from them, which will supposedly act as your escape route.

How hard could it be?
>>
>>824162
Damn it, Johnny. Why'd you have to say shit like that?
>>
Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>824162
This hard?
>>
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The rays of the morning sun pierce through the blinds like spears. You sit up, groggily, for a moment wondering just where you are. That's right. You're in some fancy suite in Castle Greens, a safehouse of Catherine's. And tonight is the docks heist. You flop back in the bed with a sigh. Ten hours or so until you're back into the shit.

"Morning, tough guy." Alex is leaning against the wall by the kitchen, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. "Ready to face the day?"

>"Ugh."
>"Ready as I'll ever be."
>"I had some weird dream-"
>>
>>824209
(Incoherent mumbling into pillow, followed by a thumbs up)
>>
>>824209
>>"Ready as I'll ever be."
>>
>>824209
>"I had some weird dream-"
>>
>>824209
>>824219
This
>>
You mumble something into the pillow, and give her a thumbs-up.

"Glad to hear it," she says. "There's coffee in the kitchen." She disappears into the bathroom.

You had some weird dream last night. Something about running down a dark hallway, being chased by lights. You can't remember. You decide not to tell Alex.

You pour yourself a mug of steaming black coffee and light up a cigarette. Breakfast of champions. You stand on the balcony, and watch the orange light of the sunrise slowly illuminate the city.

Back inside, you look through the suitcase one of Catherine's goons dropped off on his way out. You find some useful stuff, including a city map folded open to the page for South Harbor. Looking it over, you see a spot circled with a red marker. That must be the location of ... whatever it is you're stealing. It's at the docks, so you assume it's some kind of speedboat.

You look over the map. Seems simple enough. Your instinct is to just walk in, shooting or punching anything that gets in your way ...

>Going straight in is your style.

... or you could get creative, and do something unexpected.

>Steal a boat, get close on the water.
>Disguise yourself.
>Other
>>
>>824328
>Disguise yourself.
>>
>>824328
>Disguise
Can't hurt
>>
>>824328
>>Steal a boat, get close on the water.
Perfect platform for our new machine gun.

Any idea for a model yet? I'm partial to the Ultimax 100 for portability, or the Browning 1919 for that scene in Death Wish.
>>
>>824328
>>Steal a boat, get close on the water.
>>
>>824357

Gotta go with Ultimax 100, even if it's just for the name. ULTIMAX.

Some votes for disguises, some votes for stealing a boat. I'll see if I can do both. Writing ...
>>
You unfold the map a bit to look at the bigger picture.

Your target isn't far away. From here in Castle Green, you go south through the high rises of Tangerine Grove, a classy neightborhood for South American financial types, and end up smack bang in the ghetto, South Harbor. The run-down docks down there don't see much in the way of legit shipping these days, so the sailors and dockworkers, mostly Asian or Carribean migrants, handle a little extra on the side. Drugs from the Colombians, guns from the Russians, anything that comes their way. The dock gangs are known for their adaptability and tenacity, if not their reliability.

Alex emerges from the bathroom. "I'm going to head out to one of my stash points today," she says. "Get myself a weapon. Any plans yourself?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of getting a little creative with this one. Using a disguise, or stealing a boat, or something like that."

"Hmmm." She folds her arms, thinks about it. "Why not do both? If you're trying to do the unexpected, might as well go all the way."

"Good point. If we can approach on the water, and with a disguise, we might be able to get right up there before they know what hit 'em. I think I'll get myself ..."

>A fancy speedboat and a suit.
>A water rescue boat and a uniform.
>A cargo boat and some coveralls.
>Other.
>>
>>824434
>A water rescue boat and a uniform.
>>
Soundtrack:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bpS-cOBK6Q


You walk the few blocks east to the marina, feeling confident in your plan. The sun is crawling upwards into the vast blue of the sky. Going to be another scorcher.

At the marina, you buy yourself a pack of cigarettes from a kiosk, and a hot dog from a stand. What would the world be without hot dogs, you think, taking a bite as you look out over the docks. This place is home to zippy little pleasure boats, the toys of the idle rich. One thing that follows rich people, though, is government protection. Somewhere around here there should be-

There we go. A city boat, water rescue service. You stroll down onto the docks, towards the rescue boat. As you approach, you see two guys in uniform standing on the dock beside the boat.

You don't know much about these water rescue guys. They've got a uniform, but are they like cops, or firefighters, or just lifeguards with a boat?

>Intimidate them.
>Sneak around them.
>Just hit them and take their stuff.
>>
>>824509
>Sneak around them.
>>
>>824509
>Just hit them and take their stuff.
>>
>>824509
>Just hit them and take their stuff.
>>
aren't sure whether to sneak around them, or just hit them and take their stuff. You stand out a little, though, with the size and the scars and all, so it gets decided for you when the uniforms notice you. "Can we help you, sir?" one of them asks, sizing you up warily.

Oh well. You take a quick look around. No-one else seems to be watching. Time to do it the old-fashioned way. You take a big step towards the one who talked and give him a right cross to the jaw. He drops to the ground like his bones suddenly disappeared.

The second guy is trying to pull out his baton, but he's panicking and can't get it loose. You approach him, smiling, grab his shoulders in your big hands, and slam your bony forehead straight into his nose. You let go, and he collapses.

Easy as sneezing.

Nobody seems to have noticed. You rifle through the guys' pockets, taking their boat keys and radios, and check over the boat real quick. Spare uniforms in the locker.

You aren't sure what to do with the guys. Killing them is more heat than you're interested in at the moment. And you don't want to take them with you, give them any clues as to where you're going. In the end, you just leave them lying there on the dock.

It's been a while since you drove a boat, but you remember the basics. Once you sort out the main controls from the fancy extras, you think you can handle it. Slowly, not wanting to draw attention, you bring the engine to life, and make your way out of the marina.

There's a place you know, a little cove on Carolina Island. It's a good place to stash a boat like this. You maneuver the boat into position as close to the shallows as you figure is safe, and drop the anchor. It should keep here until tonight.

You extend the ladder for later, then hop over the side and into the shallow water. You can walk back over the bridge to Castle Green, though you'll have wet feet for it. You have a cigarette as you make the long journey over the bridge across the water, leaving wet footprints behind you.

It's about noon. The heist goes down this evening. What do you do until then?

>Head back to the suite
>Get some food
>Look for some fun
>Other
>>
>>824671
>Look for some fun
>>
>>824671
>head back to suite
>>
>>824671
>Other
Search the boat for goodies.
>>
>>824706
this
>>
You go over what you salvaged from the boat. You searched it over before you left. A small flashlight, a map, and a twenty-dollar bill. You even found a old bright orange flare gun, now stashed in your right inside jacket pocket. The magnum's still in the left. You've also still got two hand radios you took from the rescue guys.

The uniforms, and a bulky first aid kit, you left in the locker. The boat also had a fire axe. That might come in handy later, but it would have looked weird to carry around through the city.
>>
You finish crossing the bridge. You're back in Castle Green. On the way back to the suite, you walk past some kind of classy drinks place. Might be nice to get a beer. Of course, you won't exactly blend in. This isn't your type of neighborhood.

From inside, you can hear someone shouting. "This is what I get?" he's saying. "I come in here, a customer, and get this disrespect?

That voice sounds strangely familiar. Where have you heard that, recently?

>Investigate
>Forget it. My life's too complicated already.
>>
>>824774
>>Investigate
>>
>>824774
That fire axe will come in handy when we find Nick again.

Now let's get some lunch, but not at the diner. Wouldn't want to get Lucy in our problems...

Maybe someplace with a good Cuban sandwich?
>>
>>824831
>Forget it. My life's too complicated already.
>>
>>824831
>>Investigate
Might as well see what the problem is...
>>
>>824831
>>Investigate
>>
>>824844

Speak of the devil ...
>>
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You decide to investigate. Might as well see what the problem is.

You walk inside the bar. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark. Then you see who's shouting at the bar staff.

It's this fucking guy. Nick. This guy who didn't think it was weird he was stuffing a million dollars into a duffel bag, when it should have been seventy grand. This guy who conveniently disappeared from the motel room, right before it got ambushed.

This. Fucking. Guy.

He hasn't seen you yet.

What do you do?

>Force-march him out of the bar. You've got some questions.
>Sit him down at a booth in the back. You've got some questions.
>Leave, before he sees you. You'll deal with him another time.
>Just fucking kill him right there.
>>
>>824875
>Just fucking kill him right there.
>>
>>824875
Slam his head on the counter three or four times, then drag his ass back to an alley for interrogation.
>>
>>824875
>Leave, before he sees you. You'll deal with him another time.
I want info reward from our job first before doing anything.
>>
>>824904
Supporting. Innocent or not, he's involved in this.
>>
>>824904

I'll back that
>>
Your fists clench and unclench. You start to move forward. You're going to slam his head on the counter a few times until he's good and bloody. Then you'll ask some questions. Maybe. Maybe you'll just keep on slamming.

Then one of the bar staff steps in your way. "Sir, I'm afraid you can't-"

"Get out of my way, bitch," you growl, and push her to one side.

Unfortunately, it's enough to draw Nick's attention. He stares at you in shock. "Holy shit!" Then he sees the look in your eyes. "Ohhh no. No no no no-" He starts to back away, like a frightened deer. Then he bolts for the back.

Fuck that. He's not getting away that easy.

He dodges around a corner, tries to jump over one of the bar tables, catches his foot, lands awkwardly and stumbles. You knock the table out of your way, sending knives and glasses and complimentary bread flying.

Nick scrambles to his feet and runs to the back door. He shoves at it, straining, and finally opens it. He steps out into the sunlight. But your meaty hand emerges from the darkness like a horror monster from a closet, and lands on his shoulder. "Nick," you say, in a low growl, like a wolf. "Good to see you."

You shove him outside and against the wall, and kick the door beside him closed.

He's already pleading for his life. "Jesus Johnny I didn't know I wasn't I mean I didn't I couldn't they were gonna please you gotta-"

What do you do?

>Ask him about who set you up
>Put a bullet in his brain
>Kill him with the signal flare
>>
>>824996
Knock his ass out. Take him to the boat and interrogate him there. Chances are good there's a utility knife on board, and if he's got any relation to those police goons, he'll make good chum for sharks...
>>
>>824996
>>825025
this
>>
>>824996
>>Ask him about who set you up
>>
"Don't worry, Johnny. I'm not going to kill you. Yet." And you sock him good in the face. He'll probably have a black eye later, which gives you some satisfaction.

You dump him behind some garbage bags and walk to a pay phone to call a cab. When the cab arrives, you shove Nick into the backseat and join him. "What the hell happened to him?" asks the taxi driver.

"Sorry," you say. "My friend here's got a drinking problem."

"If he's so wasted by afternoon he can't even stand up, I guess so. Where to, pal?"

You tell him a street on Carolina Island. Not right next to the cove, but close enough. The taxi drives away. You watch the palm trees and high-rises drift by out the window.

The taxi drops you off at the end of the street. Some palm trees here will screen your approach to the boat. You're able to half-carry, half-drag Nick between the trees and through the shallow water. Getting him onto the boat is harder, but you manage.

You toss Nick down into the middle of the boat, and re-check that utility locker. Yep. There's a big old knife in here. You test the edge. Nice and sharp.

You hear Nick groaning from the boat floor. Time for a little chit-chat. You're going to ask him about who set you up.

How do you want to do this?

>Intimidating
>Persuasive
>Practical
>>
>>825103
>Intimidating
May as well play it up
>>
>>825103
>>Intimidating
>>
>>825103
>Intimidating
>>
Nick is slowly waking up. He blinks a few times, sees your boots, looks up at you. "Johnny, I ... look ... I- I didn't know about any of it. When I heard about it later, I couldn't believe-"

"Shut the fuck up, Johnny." You sit down on the chair next to him, staring down at him. "If you want to get out of this with all your pieces intact, you won't fucking lie to me. You think I haven't done this before? Sliced off parts, until some tough guy is begging for mercy? And you're not a tough guy, Nick. It won't take long." You hold up the knife. "How many fingers do you think before you talk?"

"Okay, okay!" You can see sweat running down his face. "I ... I ... shit ... all right. All right. It was Ivan, okay? You know, the Russian, the boss's kid? He hired me. Said he had an extra thing he didn't want his dad to know about. That there was real money involved.

"So I - I knew about the money. But I didn't know they would try to whack you guys! I swear! Ivan told me ahead of time, meet me somewhere, half an hour after you get to the motel. I waited for him there. He never showed. Later, I heard what happened. Now I don't know what to do. I don't know what the hell's going on."

He takes a deep breath, lets out a sigh. "Look. This is going to sound weird. But I'm glad you're alive, Johnny. I mean, I'm not glad at the same time, 'cause you're maybe about to kill me. But. Well. You seem like a good guy. I'm glad whatever happened at that motel didn't take you down. You and Alex got out together, I heard. Shame about Boris. I liked that guy. But. Anyway. Yeah."

Nick grimaces, rubs his face. Then gives you a weak grin. "Think I could get a cigarette?"

>Give Nick a cigarette
>Tie him up
>Kill him
>Give him a cigarette, then kill him
>Other
>>
>>825196
>>Give Nick a cigarette
>>Tie him up
Depending on what we learn, we can get him to the boss and fuck the kid over with his info.
>>
>>825196
>Give Nick a cigarette
>Tie him up

Still suspicious, but I'd like to get confirmation from Catherine that he's the fucker who got us screwed before tearing his guts out. That's what keeps us from being a savage.

Plus, if it IS Ivan, that's good info.
>>
>>825196
>>Give Nick a cigarette
>>Tie him up
>>
"I'm gonna tie you up," you say. "For now I'm gonna leave you one hand free so you can smoke."

"I ... guess that's as good a deal as I'm gonna get."

You pull out a caution-yellow rope from the utility locker, hogtie two of his feet and one of his hands. Then you give him a cigarette and light it for him. He takes a breath. "Ahhhh fuckin yes," he says, closing his eyes.

You take your seat back, looking out over the water. A few moments pass by in silence. Nick smokes his cigarette. The gulls call over ahead. Traffic rumbles in the nearby city.

Nick says, "Hey, did you find out anything about the guys? The ones who whacked Boris."

You say, "Not a lot, but. They might be cops."

"Cops, huh? Damn." He takes a drag from the cigarette.

Something about this to you doesn't feel right.

Nick puts a voice to it. "You know, Johnny. Ivan's a brave kid. Bold, you might say. But he's not exactly, you know. A criminal mastermind. Not like yours truly." He chuckles, then winces. "Ah, shit. You hit me pretty good back there.

"What I'm saying is, I don't know if Ivan would be calling the shots here. He'd need to have the info on the money, whoever it really belongs to, AND a connection with pigs working off the books? Seems like too much for the kid."

You think about it. "Maybe so. I'm still going to fuck him up."

What next? You think about finding a pay phone. You could look in the phone book for the number to your safehouse or the nightclub. Or you could head back to the suite and let Alex know what's going on, in person. Nick probably isn't going anywhere for a while.

>Go back to the suite
>Phone Alex at the suite
>Phone Catherine at Enigma
>Other
>>
>>825309
>>Go back to the suite
The machine gun and the car should have arrived by now.
>>
>>825378
sounds good
>>
>>825309
I just realized.

We should have grabbed Nick's wallet, gone back to Zero's place, and checked if he was a cop.

Fuck.
>>
It occurs to you that, just maybe, Nick's a cop. You doubt it, though. Nobody that slimy could be a cop. He might be an informant, though. You'll have to look into it.

For the second time that day, you travel west across the Jefferson Bridge. It's a decent hike. You stop at one point to wipe the sweat off your brow, watching the cars zoom past. You look forward to having your own wheels again.

Back to the apartment building. It's named after a flower or something, a word you don't even recognize. Into the elevator, up to the 12th floor, up to the door of the safehouse suite. You can hear voices inside, a woman's - Alex, maybe - and a man's. They seem to be talking normally.

>Let yourself in
>Kick in the door, gun drawn
>Try to listen in
>>
>>825482
>>Let yourself in
>>
>>825482
>>Try to listen in
>>
>>825482
>>Let yourself in
Hand on the pistol, though...
>>
>>825518
Seconding. Can't hurt to be careful.
>>
>>825482
>>Try to listen in
>>
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You let yourself in, normal-like. You keep one hand by your gun, though.

Alex is standing and talking with two men. One of them is the skinny guy from earlier, Riji or Ruji or whatever his name is. The other, who turns to face you now, is an older, stockier Asian man, with a greying beard.

"You must be Johnny," he says, extending a hand to shake. "I am Ken."

Alex says, "Ken here is our driver tonight.

You shake. "Uh ... pleased to meet you," you say.

The skinny guy looks you up and down. "それだけ"? He says to the old guy. He doesn't seem impressed.

"It will be fine," replies Ken. He says to you. "My nephew Ryuji here doesn't speak much English. Please take care of him."

Alex says, "Ken brought your present. It's downstairs in his car. He says your own wheels will be ready tomorrow. How did your thing go?"

"Good, actually. Real good." Though like everything else these days, it got complicated fast. You decide you won't mention Nick to these two Yakuza guys, at least not yet. Wait until you and Alex are alone.

What you do tell them is, "I figured out a sort of plan for tonight. One that could get us into enemy turf without having to walk through a bullet storm. I, uh, came into possession of a boat which could get me and Ryuji here right up to the docks with none the wiser."

Ken says, "Excellent. It seems you're more clever than you look, Mr. Johnny."

"Thanks ... I think."

Alex says, "I picked up a rifle. And a few attachments. Where do you want me?"

>Sniping from a good vantage point.
>Overwatch from nearby high ground.
>Cover your six. Close support.
>>
>>825637
>Overwatch from nearby high ground
If we get too far apart then something might happen to the other without either of us knowing.
>>
>>825650
You have two portable radios now, so you can communicate over long distances.
>>
>>825667
Well, we would be able to communicate, but still. If you get too far away, you can get surrounded easier with no way out. Easier with someone covering you from not too far away.
>>
>>825637
>>Sniping from a good vantage point.
>>
>>825667
>>825637
>Sniping from a good vantage point.

If that's the case might be good to have a sniper then to take out key/troublesome personnel.
>>
>>825695
>>825693
Guys, you know what they always say. Don't split the party.
>>
>>825707
Relax, this will be fiiiiiiiiine, what could possibly go wrong?
>>
>>825707
We've got a walkie-talkie. A high powered sniper rifle won't work so good in close quarters.
>>
>>825726
Ain't gonna be close quarters, it's just gonna be from a good vantage within 50 feet of us.
>>
>>825637
>>Overwatch from nearby high ground.
Having an extra set of eyes on things might be nice.
>>
"Any good with a scope?" you ask Alex.

She just smiles.

"All right then. Find a good spot on high ground, cover my ass from range. Keep an eye on things."

"You got it."

Ken says, "We should wait until dark. Until then, I brought some takeout. Who wants a spring roll?"

It's a little surreal, the four of you sitting at a table eating Chinese food, like regular people. Alex is hard to read as usual. Ken appears pleasant enough. Ryuji still looks annoyed by this whole thing.

>Ask Alex something.
>Ask Ken something.
>Ask Ryuji something.
>Just eat your food.
>>
>>825807
>>Ask Ryuji something.

He's Japanese right? Ask him if he knows any of that kung-fu ninja shit.
>>
>>825807
>Ask Alex something.
>Ask Ken something.
>Ask Ryuji something.
Ask Ken and Ryuji about their organization, and what they're bringing to the shindig. Once we get some free time with Alex, we should mention Nick, and what he said.
>>
>>825807
>>Ask Ken something.
"What do you do in your off time, Ken. You seem a little easy going for a pro, if you excuse my saying."
>>
>>825861
this
>>
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"So Ryuji," you say. "You're Japanese, right? You know any of that kung-fu ninja shit?"

"アホが" says Ryuji.

"Right, OK."

Ken glances sideways at Ryuji. "My nephew has yet to learn certain conversational skills."

"You seem to be doing all right in that department, old timer. A little easy going for a pro, if you excuse my saying. What do you do in your off time?"

"Oh, I'm no professional. Just a man getting grey hair, concerned about his nephew. In my off time, sometimes I like to go to the race tracks. I bet on the horses. Lose, mostly. Maybe that's why I'm so easy going, I do all my shouting there."

"Right. You guys seem to be connected, though. Anything you can tell me about your organization?"

"The syndicate? They pull strings behind the curtain, I believe the saying is. Other gangs have drugs, weapons, soldiers. The Yakuza have connections, information. Ryuji's father, my brother, is a member of some standing with them. Ryuji is a, how do you say it. Apprentice. Myself, as I said. I'm not actually a member." He smiles. "Just a concerned uncle."

The elevator, with its now-familiar tinny music, takes you down to the building's private parking garage. Ken leads you to a car that strikes a balance between power and subtlety.

He opens the trunk of his car and pulls out a serious piece of hardware. "Ultimax 100," he says, holding the light machine gun. "Made in Singapore. Carries a hundred 5.56 rounds in the drum, fires at up to 600 rounds per minute." He hands it to you. "Check it out for yourself."
You pick up the weapon, feeling its heft. Oh yeah. That's good. You nod to Ken and hand the gun back, and he places it back in his trunk, closes the door.

You say, "Before we go, I want to talk to my colleague. Give us a minute, will you?"

The two of you step away. "What is it?" Alex asks.

>I found Nick. He's in the boat, where I'm headed.
>Just ... stay safe out there. (Don't complicate things)
>Other
>>
>>825970
>>I found Nick. He's in the boat, where I'm headed.
>>
>>825970
>>I found Nick. He's in the boat, where I'm headed.
Claims it's Ivan that did the setup. Regardless, I say after this, we go check with Zero about who Nicky might be hanging with on his off hours.
>>
"I found Nick."

"Seriously? What did you do to him?"

"Me? Nothing. I mean, I punched him pretty hard. And left him tied up. With nothing to eat or drink. But other than that he's fine." You explain to her what Nick said about Ivan being behind the setup, and that someone else might be behind him.

"That's plausible, actually," she says. "I met Ivan a couple times. He might be the type of idiot to go around his dad, if someone powerful offered to cut him in on a plan."

"I thought so too. That's a place to start, at least. And if we combine that with what we learn from Catherine, we might have what we need."

"Where is Nick now? You said you left him tied up?"

"Yeah, he's on the boat I stole. For the job tonight. Which-" you're just now remembering. "Which I have to use to bring Ryuji to the docks. And I'm going to have to explain to a guy who doesn't speak English why there's a tied-up guy in a bad suit with a black eye on the floor of my stolen boat."

>Ask Ken to translate for you in the car.
>Figure it out later.
>>
>>826059
>Ask Ken to translate for you in the car.
Fuck it. Bring him in on the "fun".
>>
The car drives out of the basement parking garage and onto the streets. It's getting dark overhead, which means the city itself is lighting up. Storefronts flicker and buzz to life in bright neon. The pools of amber light under street lamps flash by in rhythm as the car hits a steady pace.

"Ken," you say. "I was wondering if you could tell Ryuji here something for me. How do I explain this ..." You tell him, in brief, that today you captured someone involved in your betrayal. That this man should be currently tied up in the bottom of the boat, where you're now headed. "I figured it might be a rude surprise if we just walked into the boat and, boom, there's a guy there."

Ken stifles laughter. "All right. I will tell him. But I don't think he will be happy." He turns to his nephew in the front seat and recites a long string of japanese sentences.

"ふざけんな," Ryuji replies. "畜生 ..."

"It will be fine," says Ken. "I think you were wise to show mercy, Johnny. You never know when someone will prove to be exactly the friend you need."

"What about when people stab you in the back?"

"That does happen," says Ken. "But I think it's still worth it."

You glance at the girl sitting next to you. Alex is looking out the window, lost in thought. The guy's right about one thing, you think. You never know when someone will be the friend you need.

The car drives onto the Jefferson bridge, and continues its journey on the long path of bright light over the dark water. A full moon rises overhead.
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wWurQPnJ3LU

Thanks for playing Thug Quest.

I'll resume here tomorrow at about the same time I started today, 1PM PST. Same thug-time, same thug-channel.
>>
>>826230
Night, Boss. See you around.
>>
>>826230
Thanks for running boss!
>>
>>826230
Your too good at this desu. I had a research paper I needed to do an hour ago. Oh Well
>>
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Thug Quest Part 3 resumes here shortly.

Since I forgot to link the previous chapters in the top comment, I'll do it now:
Part 1: >>798977
Part 2: >>810055
>>
Your car pulls up to the end of a street surrounded by trees. The skinny Japanese guy, Ryuji, gets out the front. You get out the back, and take a look around. Not much to see besides trees. It's quiet out here on this island, just water treatment plants and fisheries. Good place to stage a heist and a murder spree.

The older guy in the driver's seat, Ken, says, "Alex has told me where she wants to set up with her rifle. I'll take her over there now."

Alex taps the hand radio she's strapped to her shoulder. "Talk to you soon." You've got a radio yourself, so you'll be able to contact each other over distance now.

Ken and Ryuji exchange words in Japanese, then close the door. You close your own. The car backs up, turns around, and drives off back the way you came.

You're left alone with this guy, now. A guy whose name you can't pronounce, and doesn't speak English. A guy doesn't like you. A skinny guy who might be useless when push comes to shove - and it usually does.

A job's a job. No sense waiting around.

"Come on, Roo-whatever," you say, pointing towards the screen of trees between you and the cove. "This way."

He follows you. That's a good start at least.
>>
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The stolen water rescue boat comes into view through the trees. A quick wade through the shallows, and the two of you climb inside.

Nick is still there. His eye is starting to swell up pretty good. He's still tied up, although you notice the ropes look a little frayed. He may have tried and failed to cut them with something. Hard to blame him, you suppose.

You're still pretty pissed off at this guy. He may have betrayed you. You have no idea if you can trust anything he says. But he looks kinda pathetic right now.

"Hey there, Johnny," he croaks. "Don't suppose you brought some water with you? Or maybe some scotch?"

What do you want to do with him?

>Cut him loose. Maybe he can help.
>Cut him loose, tell him to get the hell out of here.
>Leave him tied up on the beach.
>Leave him tied up in the boat.
>>
>>828798
>Cut him loose, tell him to get the hell out of here

We got what we wanted from him, no sense in being an ass.
>>
>>828798
"You never know when someone will prove to be exactly the friend you need."

Well, kindly old Asian men do tend to be full of wisdom...

Cut him loose, tell him to meet us where we knocked him out tomorrow at 8 pm. He doesn't make it, he doesn't get a share. Leave it at that.
>>
You think about what that old Asian guy said. In the movies, they usually give pretty good advice.

You thump down the bag containing your new toy, a light machine gun. Then you step forward, pulling out the utility knife. Nick gets a look of panic in his eyes. "Wait wait hold on I didn't-"

"Relax, asshole," you growl. You bend down and cut the ropes on his ankles, then on his wrists, then pull the whole thing loose. He rubs the rope burns on his wrists, unsure of what to say.

"Get the hell out of here," you tell him. "Meet me tomorrow at eight pm, same place where I found you. You don't make it, you don't get a cut. That simple."

"Y- you betcha!" Nick scrambles to his feet and to the side of the boat. He looks back. "I- I won't forget this, Johnny. See ya- whoops!" He overbalances trying to get over the side of the boat, and plunges into the water.

You watch him struggle towards the shore. Not much of a swimmer. You think about telling him the water's shallow enough to stand. Nah.
>>
You get the water rescue uniforms, bright red coveralls, out from the spare locker. "Put this on," you say, handing one to Ryuji. "Over your clothes." You try to pantomime. He doesn't get it. So you demonstrate, stepping into your own. He starts to do the same.

When you're finished, you look the two of you up and down. "All right! If I didn't know better, I'd say we were ready to save some lives. Okay to go, partner?"

"行きましょう," he says.

"I"ll take that as a yes," you say, sitting down in the driver's seat. You turn the key, and the boat rumbles to life. You put her in gear and slowly ease her out of the cove.

It takes you a little while to cross the bay. The engine of your boat hums steadily, the wind whistles in your ears. The full moon overhead hangs silent and still, but its reflection is disturbed in the dark waters below.

Ryuji stares ahead, grimly focused. Probably about time you got your game face on, too.

When you get to the docks, your disguises here should at least get you moored without being shot at. Sooner rather than later, though, shit will hit the fan.

How are you planning on doing this?

>Play it cool for as long as possible.
>Don't fuck around, get it done.
>Watch for an opportunity
>>
>>828957
>Play it cool for as long as possible.
>Watch for an opportunity.
Play it cool and we'll make the opportunity ourselves
>>
>>828957
>Watch for an opportunity
We don't know the concrete situation over there. A spot of recon will do.
>>
>>828957
>Watch for an opportunity.

Look for some barrels of fuel to shoot at, or for most of the gangers to group up.
>>
You decide to watch for a good opportunity. Failing that, you can make one yourself.

You pass by the bright lights and tall towers of Castle Green, then Tangerine Grove. You come to the darker section of the shore, the run-down docks, sprawls of tenements, barrel fires. You can hear shouting, glass breaking, a car alarm. This is South Harbor.

It's a little hard, in the dark, to figure out exactly what dock you're aiming for. You squint as you try to figure it out. Ryuji points it out for you. "Thanks," you say, and aim the rescue boat that way.

As you approach, you can see people on the docks. Some look like guards. Most are just standing around, or leaning against the warehouse walls, smoking, talking to each other. You can see headbands, baggy clothes. Not much in the way of weapons. You do spot a couple of guys walking around on the roof of the warehouse in front of you, and you guess they probably have rifles.

Barrels of fuel don't explode when they're shot - you tried it once, and were disappointed when they didn't go up in a fireball. But propane tanks? That's another story. And you see a nice big one, right over there. Three of the gangsters are sitting next to it on milk crates playing cards.

You bring the rescue boat up to one of the piers, nice and quiet. One of the guards sees you, yanks a pistol out from his waistband and points it at you, shouting something in a language you don't even recognize.

"Hey, we got a 9-1-1 call from here," you say. You raise your hands. "We're not cops, okay? Water rescue service. Who's in trouble?"

The guard looks at you, confused. "What you say?"

"Who's in trouble? We got a call someone's in trouble, in the water here. Someone drowning? What's going on?"

The guard calls over a pair of his friends, discusses it with them. One of them says to you, "You not cops?"

"No, we're rescue guys. We help people. We got a 9-1-1 call from this dock saying someone's in trouble."

The three of them keep talking. One of them waves back towards the warehouse. Another shakes his head.

You're not sure if they're convinced.

>Stick with it
>Kill them
>>
>>829043
>>Kill them
We've gotten as far as we're gonna get
>>
>>829043
>Kill them

But quietly as possible, we can still sneak this.
>>
>>829043
>Kill them.

Good enough.
>>
You step out of the boat, approaching the three gangsters with your hands open. "Look guys, we're just here cause someone called 9-1-1 from here. If you can just look at this-"

And at that moment, when you're close enough, you sucker-punch one guy in the throat, crushing his larynx. He flops backwards, gasping.

A second guy starts to draw a gun from his pants, but you step forward and ram your knee into his guts. He keels forward and pukes his guts out, and you give him an elbow to the back of the head to drop him.

You turn to take care of the third guy, but he seems preoccupied with the half-foot of shiny metal sticking out of his chest, and the blood coming out of the hole it's made. He gurgles something. Then the metal withdraws, and the guy falls to the ground. Ryuji is standing behind him, wiping the blood off something--

"Is that," you say. "A fucking SWORD?"

Ryuji sheathes his katana. "身を捨てても、名利は捨てず," he says.

For fucks's sake. The things you put up with these days.

You quickly look around. Nobody seems to have noticed you take out the three guards. Remembering the map you looked at earlier, you figure your target is on the other side of that big warehouse right in front of you.

>Blitz the warehouse.
>Stealth through the warehouse.
>Shoot the propane tank, use the distraction.
>>
>>829110
>Take the propane tank with us, stealth through the warehouse and deploy it at a more optimal location THEN shoot it
>>
>>829110
>Stealth through the warehouse
Until you reach the first enemies
then proceed to
>BLITZKRIEG MOTHAFUCKAS

>>829116
Also that sounds pretty good
>>
>>829110
>>Shoot the propane tank, use the distraction

Bolster the explosion with some overturned fuel barrels, then lure them out by shooting that pistol the gangers had with them.

Two tickets to Burning Man.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d10)

Why not all three? you figure. You can stay quiet for as long as possible, then announce yourself with a bang.

There's another propane tank at the end of the pier here, one you can carry with one hand. You pick it up, draw your magnum with the other hand, indicate for Ryuji to follow you, and hustle towards the warehouse, hoping not to draw attention ...
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jM8n3uKe4I

You make it to the edge of the warehouse without any shots fired. But you hear a shouted question, off to the side. Some of the gangsters have noticed the bodies of the guards you dropped earlier. The group is walking towards the pier. One of them shouting, but the rest are laughing. For the moment, they're just blaming it on the guards being drunk.

Before they have a chance to notice you, you open up a door to the warehouse and step inside. Ryuji follows you, and you close the door behind him. "So far so good," you say, and turn around-

To find yourself in a large packing room. Forklifts, pallets, crates. And gangsters. At least a dozen of them, packing the crates, driving the forklifts, lounging. Just having an ordinary night at the warehouse.

One of them turns toward you, idly wondering which of his friends came in through the door. Instead he sees you. His eyes widen, and he grabs for the gun in his waistband.

So much for stealth, you think.

You toss the propane tank into the air in an arc, towards a cluster of gangsters, grab your magnum with both hands, and put three rounds into the tank's handle.

BLAM. The tank explodes in a fireball of orange. Four or five of the gangsters are knocked on their asses by the concussion. One of them is actually caught by the flames and starts screaming as he staggers back and forth, the fire consuming him.

You fire off three more shots, catching one guy in the chest. Then you duck behind a sturdy metal desk as the gangsters return fire. You start to reload the magnum as their bullets whiz overhead, a few clanging off the metal desk.

You look over at Ryuji. Is he laughing? Crazy guy.

>Bring out the machine gun, go to town.
>Move around them while they're occupied.
>Distract them while Ryuji flanks.
>>
>>829205
>>Bring out the machine gun, go to town.

IT'S TIME
>>
>>829205
>THE HOUR OF DAKKA IS UPON US
>>
>>829205
>>Move around them while they're occupied.
>>
>>829205
>Bring out the machine gun, go to town.
>>
OK, you think. Enough fucking around. It's time to have fun.

The duffel bag drops. You unzip it. Reach inside. Take hold. Draw it out. There it is. The Ultimax 100. You savor the sight. Lightweight, efficient, and - as you're about to show these gangsters - fucking brutal.

You swivel around and prop the gun's bipod on the edge of the desk. Time to work. You pull the trigger, and hold it.

DAKKAKKAKKAKKA, three guys in headbands in front of you drop as blood bursts from their torsos, their Mac-10s spraying into the air in futility. More gangsters appear from the corners of the room, firing pistols, charging with crowbars. You spray them all down.

DAKAKKAKKAKA, you sweep the machine gun fire over the catwalks. A guy grabs his chest, falls forward, and pitches over the railing, and screams on the way down, like an old Western movie.

DAKKAKAKKAKAKKA, a gangster's hand is shot off. A knee is blown off. A head explodes like a watermelon under a sledgehammer.

DAKAKAclickclickclicklick, you let go of the trigger. Out of bullets. Breathing heavily, you look around the room at the carnage. Bodies are lying everywhere. Blood is splattered on the walls and packing crates. Groans and screams of pain rise from the ground. No one standing.

"良し!" says Ryuji. He claps three times, smiling.

"Thanks, I think." you say. You wipe the sweat off your forehead.

It's been a long time since you did something like that. It feels ...

>Good
>Fucked up
>Both
>>
>>829274
>Both

Killin's still killin', but GOD DAMN if that wasn't a rush.
>>
>>829274
>>Both
>>
>>829274
>Both
>>
>>829274
>Good
>>
>>829274
>>Both
>>
You get to your feet, looking out over the carnage. It feels ... good. And fucked up. Both at the same time. Killin's still killin', but goddamn if that wasn't a rush.

Ryuji stands up, straightens his tie. "この程度か," he says, looking at the bodies.

You pull out the second hundred-round drum from the duffel bag, quickly jam it into the machine gun. "Let's get going, pal. I think they probably heard all that."

You move out. Ryuji draws a pistol and follows you.

You try not to step in any blood, but looking down you realize something. "Man," you grumble. "That guy on the pier puked on my shoes."

The two of you crouch down beside a window with a view out into an open concrete area. Gangsters are running around, getting their weapons, taking cover from the warehouse. In the middle of all this commotion is ...
>>
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"Are you serious?" you say. "A god damn helicopter? A Vietnam cargo chopper? This is what we're here to steal?" You look at Ryuji and point to the chopper. "That thing?"

He nods. "そうです."

"Well that's ... that's just ... fucking ... peachy. Why the fuck not. I'm stealing a helicopter with a guy with a sword. Why. The fuck. Not."

You look out the window again. Some people just came out of an office nearby. They're not running around or shouting. One of them looks like he's in charge ...
>>
The guy in charge looks normal. Bald, wearing a suit. Asian. The gangsters around here are some kind of South Asian, Thai or Vietnamese or something, but this one and his cronies have a different look to them. Rich, for starters.

It's the one next to him you're concerned about. The guy is over six feet. Huge shoulders. Wearing some kind of helmet, and a bulletproof vest with a gang sign spray-painted on it, and hauling a machine gun that makes your own look like a popgun. What is this guy, a supervillain?

This guy, the huge motherfucker, is arguing with the well-dressed bald guy. You're going to have to get past them, or around them, to get to the helicopter.

Your radio crackles to life. You press the button and say, real quiet, "Alex? That you?"

"That's me," she says in a tinny voice from the radio. "I got eyes on the chopper. But I don't have a shot on that huge guy with the MG who just walked outside. Are you in position?"

"Yeah," you say. "We're inside the blue warehouse. Give me a second."

You think about your options. Just running out there is probably suicide. Instead you ...

>Tell Alex to wait for the right shot
>Tell Alex to start taking out gangsters, and use the distraction
>Be the distraction, have Ryuji flank
>>
>>829372
>Be the distraction, have Ryuji flank

Also ask Alex to shoot these fools as well.
>>
>>829372
>Be the distraction, have Ryuji flank.

I'm getting a real Raiders of the Lost Ark feel where we fight a giant nazi.
>>
>>829392
Sounds good
>>
>>829372
>>Be the distraction, have Ryuji flank.
>>
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Imagine this guy ...
>>
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... plus this guy.
>>
You thumb your radio. "Alex," you say. "On my signal. Start taking out the trash."

"Roger," she replies. "What's the signal?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

"Wilco."

You point at Ryuji, then make a walking-fingers motion, then point a few times at a nearby door. He should be able to move under cover from there, and set up a flank. He seems to get the idea. " 分かった," he says, and moves to the door, pistol drawn.

Time to get some attention.

You use your elbow to smash out the bottom part of the window. In the chaos, it isn't noticed. You set up the Ultimax on the ledge.

Okay. Here we go again. You pull the trigger.

DAKAKKAKKAKA, you take out the nearest group of gangsters in seconds. Everyone else runs for cover. Shouting intensifies. They open up on the warehouse with their pistols, popcorn cracks against the deep rhythmic hammering of your machine gun. The window above you shatters. You keep firing.

You spot some guys kneeling on the roof opposite, taking aim at you with rifles. Then over your radio, you hear the tinny crack of a rifle bullet. One of the rooftop guys has half of his skull disappear, and he slumps over. "That's one," says the radio at your shoulder. Another rifle crack. "Two ... are we keeping score?"
>>
The rich guys in suits are taking off. One of them, the one in charge, directs a steely glare towards you, as his minions hustle him away. You fire a few shots in their direction. One of the minions takes a bullet - they're shielding their boss with their bodies.

You forget about them. You've got bigger problems. Literally bigger.

The huge armored motherfucker is walking towards you. His helmet's facemask is lowered. His huge machine gun is pointed in your direction-

"Oh shit-"

>Stand your ground, trade fire
>Dive for cover
>>
>>829485
CoverCoverCoverCoverCoverCover
>>
>>829485
>>Dive for cover
>>
>>829485
>Other

Remember that scene where Indy bare knuckle fights a fuckhueg Nazi with an awesome mustache on an airstrip?

Yeah.
>>
>>829494
Sounds awesome, but we've both got machine guns. Wait until his ammo is spent.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

Diving for cover ...
>>
>>829529
I hope this is our roll and not his, cuz damn
>>
Fuck this! You dive for cover behind some crates with a sweet battle roll. You hope whatever's in these things is solid-

The big guy fires his machine gun. If your gun is a tornado of destruction, his is a hurricane. Wood splinters. Glass shatters. The scaffolding of the warehouse starts to collapse, packing crates raining down around you. "Ohhh shiiiit fuuuck--" BRAPBRAPBRAPBRAP--

The noise dies down. The destruction ceases. You look down at yourself. Unharmed. It's your lucky day so far.

You hear the sound of tinkling glass. You peer carefully out from behind your crate. The big armored guy is moving into the building. There's not much wall left where he was firing, he just kicks it out of the way. He slowly walks inside, gun raised.

You could maybe get the drop on him. But you're in an awkward position. In the time it takes you to ready your gun, he might notice and swivel his aim in time ...

A battle cry resounds from the broken wall behind armored guy. Ryuji appears, shouting something, firing his pistol repeatedly into the guy's back. You hear the dull thud of pistol bullets hitting armor. A few clangs as some hit the back of the helmet.

The guy is staggered, but that's all. He lets out a low, ominous chuckle from behind his mask.
Ryuji realizes this and puts his last bullet into the guy's right leg. Blood bursts from his shin. "Hrrngh!" you hear him grunt, and stumble. But it's not enough. The guy stands back up, turns around.

Ryuji drops the pistol and pulls out his sword with a flourish. "本気を見せてみ."

The huge guy just steps right forward. "Hrr hrr hrr." Ryuji cuts with the blade, but the guy lunges and raises his arm, and takes the sword in the armor on his side, before the slash had begun properly. The sword cuts through the armor and draws blood, but that's all.

The big guy drops his raised elbow into Ryuji's face, and follows it up with a cross. The Yakuza sags, his face a bloody mess, but before he can fall, the armored guy grabs him by his collar and tie, and raises him into the air, laughing. Smashes his forehead into Ryuji's face. Laughs again.

You can't get a clear shot with him holding Ryuji like that-

>Charge him
>Take the shot
>>
>>829575
>>Charge him

FUCK YES
>>
>>829575
>>Charge him
I like his uncle enough to try and save him
>>
>>829575
>Charge him
Ryuji and his uncle were pretty cool. No reason to cock up your relationship now.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d10)

Rolling to charge.
>>
>>829621
Oof.

Well, let's hope we can get him to focus on us while Ryuji get his pigsticker ready.
>>
You aren't going to let this happen. You like Ryuji and his uncle. Or at least, you like his uncle. Besides ...

Your fists tighten. You smile. Besides. A little part of you was hoping it would come to this.

You hit him low, just like they taught you back in football. The three of you crash to the ground. Ryuji rolls away, trying to wipe the blood from his eyes so he can find his sword.

The armored guy is trying to get to his feet. "Oh no, you don't," you say, and swing around to kick his feet out. He goes down again in a pile.
You get on top of him. "Let's get that fucking helmet off --" you say through gritted teeth, wrestling it off. Yikes. Ugly motherfucker. Time to make him uglier. "Now I'll give it BACK," you say, smashing the dome of the helmet into his face. You pull it back to do it again, but he grabs your wrist with both hands. You wrestle for control, but he has two hands and leverage, and sends the helmet flying back into your face.

You feel something crunch. Warm blood comes out your nose, fills your mouth. A second time your face is smashed. You fall back, seeing stars. A boot to the ribs, and you roll over, groaning.

Fuck me, you think. This was going so well until now.
>>
Your hands reach out to find something to pull you up with. They encounter rubber. A tire? You look up to see a forklift.

You get an idea. You've driven these plenty of times before. You even know how to disable the speed limiters. Just press here, pull that there ...

The armored guy is putting his helmet back on. He shakes his head, resets his mask. He looks around for his weapon, can't find it. Looks around for you-

"Hey, asshole!" you shout from the driver's seat as the forklift zips forward. The guy has just enough time to turn around and see it coming. The forks plunge into his chest at high speed. He cries out in pain, grabs at them, tries to somehow pull them out. Soon his arms lose strength.

You dismout from the forklift, look at him, and say, "Get forked."
>>
>>829680
byotiful
>>
>>829680
>"Get forked."

My fucking sides.
>>
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>>829680
Damn it, Boss, I just finished watching Total Recall.
>>
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>>829703
I just finished watching True Les, oddly enough
>>
You wipe the blood off your face and gingerly test your nose. Broken again, maybe. That's going to sting when the adrenaline wears off.

Ryuji seems to have found his sword. You extend a hand to help him up. He takes it. "You okay?" you ask him. He nods once. Puts his sword away. Spits out some blood.

You turn on your radio. "Alex, how's it look outside?"

"Clear for the moment," she says. "But get moving. Fuzz is closing in."

She's right. You can hear sirens. Too close for comfort. "Time to move, bud. Let's get what we came here for."

You grab your machine gun and lead Ryuji to the demolished wall. You took a look outside. Nothing but bodies with bullet holes, and the cargo helicopter you came for. Clear for the moment, like Alex said. You hoof it out into the landing area, Ryuji close behind. Some potshots come from the cover of a nearby building, but Alex's rifle kicks to life in the distance. The shots stop.

"Chalk up another one," says Alex on the radio. "Johnny, I- oh. Oh, shit. Shit. Johnny, I gotta go. The cops are here."

"What?" you say. You're next to the helicopter now. "Alex-"

"I'll be fine, but I gotta go. I'll find you. Just get out of there!" And she kills the connection.

"Alex!" you say. But there's no answer. The cops are way too close now. You can see the lights from their sirens on the walls. Part of you wants to go after Alex. But you don't even know where she is. You scan the nearby rooftops and cranes frantically. Nothing. "Fuck!" Your fists clench and unclench. Nothing you can do. "All right, Ryuji. Let's get the fuck out of here."

He's already busted the lock and opened the door. "速い!" he shouts. You pull yourself in after him. He gets into the pilot's seat and starts pushing buttons and pulling levers.

You look out one of the windows. The cops are here, running into the nearby buildings, kicking in doors, guns drawn.

>Open the side door, start firing
>Sit tight until you're in the air
>>
>>829747
>Sit tight until you're in the air

The door might provide cover, and you don't want to fall out of the chopper.
>>
>>829747
>Sit tight until you're in the air
Shooting back now would be counterproductive. Trust Alex enough to keep herself safe.
>>
Also, can i say 'I told you so'? Alex was too far away for us to help. Guess what happened.

NOW WE SPLIT THE PARTY, GODDAMMIT
>>
You sit tight for now. Until the rotor starts spinning, the cops might not catch on.

The seconds tick by. You feel sweat running down under your collar. Ryuji is doing ... whatever you need to do to start a helicopter. You hear engines turn on, high-pitched whines, a deep thrumming. One rotor comes to life, then the other.

The cops around the helicopter are shouting to each other, pointing at you. Some of them approach with their handguns drawn, commanding you to power down and exit the aircraft.

Ryuji ignores them and brings the main rotor to speed. The wind drives back the front group of cops. A few of the others start to open fire. You hear some dings and clangs as bullets strike the side.

The main rotor kicks into full gear. The helicopter starts to lift off.

More cops are firing. One of the bullets strikes the helicopter uncomfortably close to your head. But none of them are doing any real damage.

The helicopter rises, begins to peel away over the warehouses.

You know these first responders are usually uniform cops with low-caliber pistols and shotguns. Nothing that can do any real damage to the big workhorse you're riding now. With no bridges around, their police cars won't be able to follow you over the water.

The only thing that would be a big problem right now would be, say ...
>>
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"Son of a bitch," you say. You can see a flying searchlight in the air behind you. A police helicopter. Just what you need.

>Evasive maneuvers
>Gun it down
>>
>>829831
Evasive maneuvers at low altitude near building height, followed by flare gun.

That'll get them down real quick.
>>
>>829831
>Gun it down

We got Rambo's wet dream in our chopper with us, we can shoot it out of the sky no problem.
>>
>>829849
Try this, if it fails, go with
>>829851
>>
>>829849
>>829831
Not a bad choice really.
>>
>>829857
this
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siwpn14IE7E

The Chinook swings around pointing north. The police copter follows.

You pull yourself up into the cockpit. Ryuji is concentrating intensely. "Police!" you shout, pointing behind you. "Cops! I gotta - I don't know-" You make a squiggly motion with your hand. "Dodge? Evade? I really wish you spoke English-"

He gets the idea. The chopper dips low and starts to maneuver at building height. With the lights off, it's easy to hear, but not so easy to see. He dodges around a tall tenement. Swoops down under a power line. But he can't shake the police copter.

"Fuck," you say through gritted teeth. "I'm gonna try something. Get real low!" you say to Ryuji, pointing down. "Low!" He nods, and starts to swing the helicopter to the east.

You climb back into the cargo bay, find the handle for the side door, and crank it open. The cold, howling wind whistles in, almost pulls you out right away, but you hang on to the door handle and get your balance back.

Ryuji brings the chopper right down low over the black water, so low you can feel the spray. You plant one foot down on the outside step to steady yourself. Your coat whips around you from the intense wind.

The police helicopter is right behind you. They're squawking something on their loudspeaker about surrendering. You can barely see with that searchlight pointed right at you. But you can see just enough to point that signal flare you found in the boat this morning.

You raise the flare gun and fire ...
>>
Rolled 9 (1d10)

Rolling to fire the flare gun.
>>
The flare lands smack bang in the middle of the police helicopter's windshield. You get a glimpse of the pilot throwing up his hands to shield his eyes.

The police aircraft tilts. The landing rail dips into the water, pulling it off balance.

Then the main rotor blades strike the water, bend, break, splinter into pieces that go flying everywhere, one of them right past your face.
The chopper slams into the water with a great splash. It rolls over twice, and comes to rest upside-down in the water, where it slowly starts to sink into the black water.

Wait. You had something for this. What was it? Oh yeah.

"Lights out," you announce to the crashed helicopter, vanishing in the darkness behind you.
>>
You slide the door closed and slam it shut. You clamber into the cockpit and flop down in the co-pilot's seat next to Ryuji with a grunt, part relief, part exhaustion. "Took care of it," you say, and flash him a thumbs-up.

Ryuji looks over at you, then down at his own hand with a frown. He raises his right hand, figuring out how the fingers go together. Then he returns your thumbs-up. "さすが Johnny," he says. You recognize your own name, with a heavy accent.

"Heh. You too, you grouchy bastard."
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>>830024
Can we make a comment about how he doesn't know kung fu after all?
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>>830031
Idk, he clearly knows swords, that's usually related to that Mongolian ninja-shit
>>
The cargo copter flies into the night. The two of you are safe. For now. But you look out the window and wonder what happened to Alex. Is she dead? In jail? You tell yourself that she's a resouceful woman, that she probably made it out fine. But you don't know.

Tomorrow looks like another busy day.

----------

Thanks for playing Thug Quest, Part 3. Hope you enjoyed yourselves.

Next game will probably be Wednesday night, around 6 PST / 9 EST. Follow my twitter to stay updated: https://twitter.com/ravenkingquests
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>>830061
Thanks for running, b0ss.
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>>830061
Night, Bossman. See you around tomorrow.
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>>830061
Thanks for running boss!
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>>830061
Thanks for running OP!
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>>830074
>>830081
>>830088
>>830097
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Thug Quest Part 4 has arrived:

>>836043



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