Agent Gruse takes you all over Chicago for your training, outfitting you in several different "blend in" outfits, bleaching and dying your hair different colors, etc. As well as providing fake identities complete with drivers licenses to match. You practice trailing random people in crowds, and eventually practice trailing Elliot--and failing. He takes you to a local race-track with cones and fake obstacles set up, running you through various imaginary situations and courses. Finally he teaches you how to pick locks on a set of doors in the Training Grounds. It's painfully tedious work but eventually you get quicker at it--relatively. From 2 hours to pick a simple lock down to 25 minutes, but you've seen Elliot do it in a matter of seconds...
In spending the whole month training with Elliot, you learn little details from his past throughout the month until you have a decent full picture of his story. He's pretty tight-lipped about the exact times and places things happened, but:
So he bottled up his rage and was packing to leave the country when a bruiser showed up at his front door with a plain looking mail package. Elliot snuck out the back and got the drop on him, a gun to his head. That bruiser turned out to be Mark Lareson, with the severed head of the man who gave the order to kill Elliot's family, and a job offer. Someone was paying huge money in the States for people like him, and was offering protection for his daughter. Mark had a few bullet wounds that he had hastily wrapped, so Elliot treated them properly and saved his life (he claims. You suspect it's a point of contention between the two men).
Now his daughter has a new identity, the best protection, and receives a lot of treatment for her PTSD. "They wouldn't even have to pay me at this point, to be honest, but don't tell them that."
The mission date is soon. Training is over, for now. It's all been one big blur of exhaustion from dawn to unconsciousness. That fateful night, the phone call, the bar, Sandy, it all feels like it happened in another lifetime, to another person--had it really only been a month?
You hadn't run into or heard anything about the agents from your homeland that would surely keep hunting you. Maybe the last two took your location to their graves, or maybe the CSB was protecting you in more ways than the obvious.
You were exhausted, but surprisingly had your first day to yourself, no training. You wandered zombie-like into the mess hall to get breakfast and Elliot was there already eating.
He nods to you, chewing, and glances up more than once as you get food, like he's working up to ask you something, or arranging the words in his head and proofreading them before speaking.
"Next I'll teach you boys some Cantonese. It'll be good for you." she chuckles as she gathers up breakfast.
Afterwards she brings her plate over sitting across from Gruse and continues in English. "You should teach me to write English better too, more convincing." she wastes no time explaining, instead she dives in on the plate of food. She's been getting a taste for American food, but complains it's too filling.
He blinks and does not respond.
"Sure, after the mission sometime."
He eats a bit more, lets the quiet settle, then asks, "How are you holding up? I mean, that was kind of a traumatic entry to the CSB. The ... funeral for your friend, the bartender, it's right on mission day. Ironic I guess. Sorry." His expression is flat, but his eyes are a bit uncertain.
Sang-mi blinks a few times, processing.
"Who was she? A fool. A fool who agreed to poison somebody for money." She sighs putting her fork down.
"She was not a bad person, she tried to make it better... She should not have died. Dis is not Mark's fault, Dis is mine." It's clear Sang-mi is replaying bits of that happened that night in her head, perhaps playing the 'what if' game.
After snapping to, she looks back at Gruse. "Do not worry, I will perform better."
Elliot raises his hands in a 'didn't mean to pry' gesture and finishes eating.
A page comes over the intercom, "Agents Gruse, Lareson, and Chu to debriefing in 15 minutes," a woman's voice.
When you all meet up in the briefing room, Mark has a map of Chicago laid out on the table. He points out the FBI and your current location, the HQ (see campaign map). Then he drags his finger waaay over, several hours outside of town. "Lotta distance, lot could happen. Anyone have any ideas? We pull up while he's waiting outside, grab him? Then what?" Mark waits.
"I'll be driving. Guess you two will what, knock him out? Tie him up?"
"Your mission will be to pick Staley up from the FBI HQ and get him to a safehouse outside the city, alive. We don't expect any interference from the Outfit, but you'll need to keep your eyes open."
(He'll probably call a cab or private driver once he's released.)
"Maybe we should have a car change? Throw off anybody who might be following? Sang-mi says, puzzling over the map.
"Then we'll pick him up in a burner car and swap to the van later, maybe here under this overpass." Elliot points on the map. "Don't leave anything behind in the burner car."
"So we grab him at gunpoint, shove him in the car, race off. We swap cars, then drive out to the country. He'll probably think we're going to kill him the whole time, do we knock him out or what?"
"Do you think that is needed?" Sang-mi asks skeptically.
Mark shrugs and checks his watch. "Let's gear up."
He leads the way to the garage and hands out tactical gear from a wall to each of you. Black gloves and kevlar vests.
There's also a weapon rack. Mark makes sure each agent gets a .40 cal S&W pistol along with a holster.
"Take whatever else you think you'll need." Mark says as he takes an Uzi submachinegun. "Just don't get too bogged down, we may have to move quick when we switch cars."
He loads up the van with a few bigger guns, including one machine gun with a bipod. "We'll have bigger toys once we switch to the van, if we need 'em."
"We're not going to war."
"Better safe than sorry."
Sang-mi chuckles as she looks at a flamethrower bemused. Moving on she gathers up a pair of smoke grenades, a pair of pepper sprays, and a Molotov.
Holding the Molotov she gives it a strange, almost familiar, look. "A fire bomb..." She looks over at Mark and Elliot. "Liberty torches, I saw these in Hong Kong protest." She says in English to them. "We may need to burn evidence." She says sliding it into her tactical harness with the others.
Finally she grabs a boot knife and stows it before heading to catch up with the others.
After gearing up, your team takes the van and an older dark green SUV out of the HQ garages. Elliot drives the van and you're following in the burner SUV with Mark.
The two vehicles park under the planned overpass and Elliot jogs over to take over driving from you, then you all head to the FBI HQ in the SUV.
Elliot parks across the street and just down a bit from the clean glass and steel building, nodding towards it. Mark checks his watch. "Should be released in the next hour."
Sang-mi looks around, obviously anxious, then hunkers down in her seat.
It's a pretty nice day in the windy city. Sunny, about 10am. The storms of that fateful night a month ago are long past. The streets are busy and no one pays you much attention.
Elliot steps out and puts some money in the parking meter. "No unwanted attention," he says to you, still in tutor-student mode.
At one point a cop car drives past, and Elliot sets a hand on your shoulder to reassure you--and make sure you don't dive down suddenly as you're looking a bit jumpy.
Mark is in the back seat, seemingly asleep, his eyes closed and perfectly still. You'd think he was meditating, given your martial arts background, but he doesn't seem the type.
"You know a lot about me, but all I know about you is from reading your dossier," Elliot says while you all wait, his eyes still watching the FBI building and surroundings. "Do you miss it over there? Your home?"
From the back, Mark scoffs like that's the dumbest question anyone's ever asked. Guess he's not asleep.
Sang-mi sighs, "Hong Kong was very nice. School was difficult but very rewarding, I was very sad to leave..." she holds on that thought for a moment then looks over to Gruse.
"But dis is not what you want to know about yes? You want to know about Korea?" She shifts uncomfortably in her seat and looks out toward the FBI building
"Deh first time I can remember seeing a car I was 10, we lived in Pyongyang. I worked on farm before, it was very very poor life. In Deh city I got to watch Hong Kong film, go to school, life was good."
She relaxes a bit, reliving some fond memory. "I was very poor student, I fought very much. I only care for Wushu." She looks back at Larson.
"One day I argue with a young boy, Dae-Hyun.., he argue with me his father is greatest at Wushu. I tell him 'NO, Bruce Lee is best!' and he tell me his father can beat him up. I hit him so hard he falls, 'Wooooahhhhh!' like Mr. Lee, and he attacks back! but I learn too much Wushu, he cannot best me so he run away. Later he comes back with friend and brother. Dese boys fight me all at once! Dey beat me very hard, kick legs, rip dress, spit on me.." She gestures toward her face, "Many bruises. I walk home to my mother and she ask:"Daughter, why are you hurt? why you not cry?" She smiles to herself, "I tell her, mother! boys beat me up, but I don't cry because I won. Better to lose and have Virtue, than to win without Virtue..." She turns back to Gruse
"Dae-Hyun gave up his Virtue when he turned to vengence, when he turned to his kin for help to do honorless things." She says as if she's informing Gruse of something he may not know.
"You know what my mother did? She hit me!" Sang-mi laughs. "Daughter you do not fight! you are a proper lady!" She emulates waving and object. "She sent me to do chores, homework, as punishment... but after supper she brings me my favorite dessert Gangjeong and hugs me, she tells me she loves me very much... Dis is always how it is, Dis is what I remember when I think of home." She has become a bit wispy eyed, but fights it back. She turns to Lareson again.
"Also, dey used to teach us dat American men like Lareson would eat our children in school." She chuckles, clearly trying to change the tone of the conversation.
Elliot listens, smiling at parts, and nods. "I hope the job never makes you feel like you're giving up your Virtue. There's a greater good to be served, people to protect. But things might get dirty in the process. At least that's how it was at my last jobs."
"Ich bin eigentlich Deutscher. But I've spoken English since I was teenager. American accent is pretty easy with practice. Could help you sometime if you want."
"And you don't need a greater purpose to still have a warrior's honor," he says to Elliot.
Mark crosses his arms and looks out the window towards the FBI building, waiting.
"I had my greater good, Jun Xifeng: Phoenix of Liberty, I was going to bring attention to my people. As long as KCP is in control, I have a goal." She nods, mostly to reaffirm herself.
Elliot points at the glass doors of the FBI building. "That's him."
Two silhouettes are exiting, one of them an FBI agent and the other matches the description of Frank Staley, your target. The agent stays at the door a moment then goes back inside, while Frank Staley takes out a giant brick of a cell phone and dials on it.
"Hope you two are ready," Elliot remarks, starting up the SUV.
Staley talks on his phone a little longer then walks over to the curb and waits.
Elliot glances at you, sees your determined expression and pulls out of the parking spot, driving quickly over to the curb in front of Staley.
Staley is a younger man in his 20's with black curly hair and fancy clothes and a self-satisfied expression that changes to confusion when the dark green SUV pulls up and two of its doors open.
"Who the f%*+ are you?" He starts to say.
Sang-mi lunges from the opened door to grapple Frank and drag him inside. In the scuffle she'll try to toss the cellphone brick out of the car, then once under control she'll start to pat him down for other items.
As Sang-mi and Mark grab the man and his cell phone clatters on concrete--and there's a loud gunshot that echoes between the buildings. Frank goes limp in your grasp, and looks up at you in shock, a crimson stain spreading out across his white button-up shirt. He mutters something inaudible.
There's a moment of silence, probably no longer than a fraction of a second, but it seems to drag on forever.
Then you two drag his limp body into the back seat and quickly get in, Elliot immediately peels off with his head down. There's another shot, and the passenger window shatters an inch from your face, raining glass on your lap. "F#@#! I just got hit," Elliot curses, the SUV swerving wildly before he regains control. You can see blood running down his dark sleeve, must have been hit in the arm or shoulder.
In the mirror, you can see a couple FBI agents run out of the building, looking around with guns out, but nothing's happening. There's no more shots. "Do you see anyone, anyone following us?" Elliot asks you, his voice hoarse with pain.
In the backseat, Frank is squirming weakly as Mark presses hard on his chest with both hands and a clump of bandages. A first aid kit is open and scattered across the floor and seat back there.
You don't see anyone following...
"B!@@+~%&!" Sang-mi shouts as the glass shattered.
After looking out and seeing nothing following she looks over to Gruse. "Nothing coming, find a spot to duck into, swap me driving and bandage up."
Elliot skids onto a side street, then jumps the curb a bit as he swerves into an alley, slams on the brakes, and stumbles out of the driver's side door. He makes his way over to the passenger side with a hand on the car for support, nodding to you.
The smoke grenade you toss rattles across the asphalt and starts spewing grey smoke. Onlookers scream.
You and Elliot slam your doors and you take off, leaving the smoke behind.
As you're about to turn out of the alley onto another side street, you glance in your rear view mirror and see three motorcycles pierce the smoke in pursuit. You'd guess they were right on you, but the smoke slowed them down and bought you some good distance.
It takes some concentration to weave between cars, but you've trained for this.
"We gotta get to the van," Mark says from the back, still tending to Frank.
"I don't think we can stop like that again, they'll be right on us," Elliot shoots back as he grabs a handful of bandages from the scattered first aid kit and starts tearing his sleeve off, wrapping up the bullet wound near his shoulder. He adjusts the side mirror to see the pursuers better. "Couple hundred feet still," He takes out his .40 pistol and cocks it to ready a round in the chamber.
The motorcycles are gaining rapidly in the mirror.
"All my f@!&in' guns are in the van..." Mark mutters.
Frank groans in pain.
Drive. Maintaining control of a vehicle is a bonus action. It requires you to have at least one hand on the steering wheel and be able to reach the gas and brake pedals. When you take the Drive action, you can choose to increase or decrease the vehicle’s current speed factor by 1, up to its maximum speed factor.
Dodge. You drive defensively in a pattern that makes your vehicle difficult to pin down. Anyone targeting your vehicle with an attack has disadvantage on the attack roll until the beginning of your next turn.
Dash. You put the pedal to the floor and attempt to increase your speed quickly. Make a driving check. On a success, you increase your vehicle’s speed factor by 1d4, up to its maximum speed factor. On a failure, the vehicle stalls out and you decrease your vehicle’s current speed factor by 1.
Hard Brake. You slam on the brakes, decreasing your speed dramatically. Make a driving check. On a success, you decrease your vehicle’s current speed factor by 1d4. On a failure, you lose control of the vehicle.
Ram. You must be in the same space on the track as your target to attempt a ram. Make a driving check. On a failure, you miss your ram attempt. On a success, the driver of your target vehicle must make a driving check. If the driver fails, the target vehicle takes 2d12 bludgeoning damage. If the driver succeeds, the damage is halved. If the driver fails this check by more than 5, they lose control of the vehicle.
Stunt. You must be the lead vehicle in order to attempt a stunt. Start with a description of the stunt, like jumping a chasm or drifting around a hairpin turn at breakneck speed, then make a driving check. If you fail, you decrease your speed factor by 1d4 as you attempt to recover from the botched stunt. If you fail by 5 or more, you lose control of the vehicle. On a success, each other driver must make a driving check as part of their Drive action in order to replicate the stunt, suffering the same consequences for failure.
SUV: 1st spot
AC 13
DT 10
HP 120
Handling DC 10
Max Speed 8
Motorcycle 3rd spot
AC 14
DT 5
HP 40
Handling DC 6
Max Speed 8
"Which way Elliot!?" Sang-mi tenses from the adrenaline. She begins to drive defensively while she waits for further instruction.
The motorcycles all catch up quickly. You notice each has a passenger on the back, and everyone has some kind of one-hand gun to fire.
Elliot sets his gun in his lap to roll down the window with his good arm, then picks up the gun and leans out, firing a shot at the lead rider, hitting center mass. The rider immediately swerves before spinning into a tumble and crashing. The guy riding on the back is flung off and smashes into the back of a parked truck, setting off the car alarm.
One motorcycle pulls up behind you and sprays the rear window with a stream of automatic gunfire from a one-handed submachinegun, tearing the glass to pieces and scattering bullets around the inside of the SUV. You hear Mark swearing.
The other motorcycle accelerates with a roar up on Elliot's side and spatters his side with bullets from another hand-held submachinegun. Elliot ducks down, covering his head.
You glance back and see Mark is still keeping pressure on Frank's wound as best he can despite the swerving and gunfire. Miraculously, it doesn't seem like anyone got hit. Your evasive maneuvers seemed to have helped.
"Straight to the safe house?" Elliot asks quickly as he ducks back inside. That was his preference, but Mark disagreed with him and wanted to go to the van first. He's basically asking who you're siding with here, since you're driving.
With one hand she draws her pistol while continuing to drive defensively with the other. "Give my gun to Mark, I'll get us to dah car." she says holding out her weapon for someone to take.
"Got my hands full back here," Mark says, currently trying to puncture some kind of syringe into Frank's chest.
The motorcycles maintain their speed next to and behind the SUV, weaving between traffic as you do the same. You keep them on the defensive though, swerving at and away from them and making the SUV hard to hit.
More bullets ping around the interior of the SUV and another side window shatters. The front windshield has a bunch of bulletholes in it and a side mirror explodes.
"We've got... a couple miles still, and we're not going very fast. Stay on this road until you see highway exits, then turn left and drive parallel to the highway til 64th--" Elliot gets cut off as a motorcyclist revs up next to his window and both of you have to duck to avoid the spray of bullets. When you raise your head again, Elliot doesn't. He stays slumped against his door, clutching his side.
Mark manages to finally stabilize Frank, his wound bandaged and the strange syringe still sticking out of his chest.
Through no small amount of will, Elliot sits up again, gritting his teeth and still holding his side. "--64th. That's where the van is. Under the highway overpass. But they're right on us...". He fires a weakly aimed shot out his window that misses.
Mark draws his Uzi submachinegun from his shoulder-sling, ready to fire next round. His hands are covered in Frank's blood.
Sang-mi grits her teeth,"Bastards."
She then drops the pistol between her and Elliot, and fishes out the last smoke grenade.
Glancing out the side, she'll try to gauge if she can the motorcycle on the passenger side, if not she'll continue driving defensively.
Either way she continues on Elliot's directions.
forgot proficiency, so +2 to that
The motorcycle beside you swerves away as you try to Ram it, but isn't quick enough. You hear one of the riders scream as their leg is crushed and the motorcycle wobbles madly as the driver struggles to not crash--and barely manages. The passenger fires a burst from his gun but misses as they're left behind by a hundred feet or so. On their turn, they try to race to catch back up, but their front tire is too damaged and they fall even further behind, disappearing in the rear view mirror.
The remaining motorcycle hits the brakes, suddenly falling way back out of reach. Mark was trying to line up a shot on them and curses under his breath. "They're just going to tail us now. Who the f#~$ are they?" He grabs some bandages and hands them up to Elliot, who groggily wraps up his wounds.
"Nicely done," Elliot manages to say to you.
You can hear sirens in the distance. After a few moments you arrive at the van, skidding to a stop next to it in the shadow of the highway overpass. Mark hauls Frank out from the back and drags him to the van, unlocking the back doors and lifting him up inside. Frank groans in pain, waking up a little.
Elliot tries to walk on his own but immediately almost falls, leaning heavily on the bullet-riddled SUV.
Sang-mi heads over and throws an arm under Elliot's shoulder to help him to the van. "Can you drive?" she says, her tone and expression hints at a plan being devised.
Elliot nods and makes it to the driver side of the van with your help. "Yeah, yeah I can make it."
As you go to the van, Mark passes you coming the other way, carrying a dufflebag. He takes a rectangular package out of it and sticks it to the side of the SUV, then jogs quickly back, climbing into the back of the van. He sits near the back tinted window and pulls some kind of remote from the dufflebag, waiting. "Got a surprise for those pricks."
The sirens in the distance are drawing closer, and you think you can faintly hear the rev of a motorcycle engine...
Elliot waits for either of you to tell him to go.
"Well, dis changes my plans." she says amused. She heads over and climbs into the passenger side and looks to Elliot.
"Can you tuck us somewhere so Mark has sight on the SUV? Or would you rather us be on the move Mark?" she asks toward Mark.
"Wait..." Mark says quietly. You can definitely hear a motorcycle getting closer. "Alright go."
Elliot starts the van and pulls onto the street, driving away casually at the speed limit. Mark is pressed in close to the back window, watching, waiting.
Finally a motorcycle pulls around the corner and the two riders quickly dismount, aiming their guns at the SUV. Mark waits until they peer into the windows before hitting the detonator.
There's a flash of light quickly followed by a loud thwump that rattles everything in the van as the SUV is obliterated by a powerful explosion. You think you can see bodies in the debris, and no one stands up. Elliot takes a turn and it's out of view.
"Last we'll see of them, whoever the f&%% they were," Mark comments, satisfied.
"I'm not so sure," Elliot responds weakly, focused on driving. He drives until you're in less populated industrial area and pulls over. "I need to see to my wounds properly, think you can take over?" He climbs into the back with Mark and Frank.
Mark carefully removes the bloody makeshift bandages, checking for exit wounds, and eventually pulling a couple bullets out of Elliot's arm and one lodged against his ribs. He cleans the wounds and wraps them with fresh bandages.
Meanwhile, Elliot gives you directions, only grunting occasionally.
You notice a sore spot on your back, near your kidney, and pick a flattened bullet off kevlar vest that failed to penetrate. The vest probably saved your life.
A half hour passes uneventfully (), with Mark babysitting the wounded and Elliot groggily watching out the back window.
"Mark, good idea with deh explosives... And don't worry, dey will be back and next time we'll catch one to interview." she smiles up at him in the rear view mirror.
"Elliot, you too and good shot. You are quite tough for a skinny man." She chuckles as they cruise along.
Mark nods with a dark expression, probably thinking of "questions" he'd like to ask in this "interview".
Elliot laughs, then winces. "Ow. Don't make me laugh."
Industrial turns to suburban, then eventually to flat open farmland. It doesn't even feel like you've gone that far, only an hour from the FBI HQ downtown Chicago and you're out in the country. It's perfect square farm plots as far as you can see in every direction. You even pass a tractor, driving slowly on the road.
After a few more minutes Elliot points at a narrow dirt road with a red and black No Trespassing sign. "I think that's it--across from 'Saddle Road'. Yeah."
The van bumps and jostles off the asphalt and onto the dirt road, past an old tractor. The white farmhouse is between a grain silo and a typical red barn, past a little apple orchard. It seems a bit run-down, with a few rusted out trucks and overgrown weeds, but overall kind of peaceful. The apple orchard blocks most view of the farmhouse from the road, providing a bit of privacy.
As you pull up and park, you see the house itself is in pretty good condition. It's a two-story white house with a covered porch around two sides. Mark starts securing the unconscious Frank to the stretcher in the back, while Elliot comes up front to sit in the passenger seat next to you.
"Can you help Mark carry him in? I'm going to report in with HQ," Elliot picks up the radio transmitter and speaks into it, "Zulu, kilo, one, charlie, sierra, three, three, kilo. Package retrieved, damaged on pickup but OK. Picked up six hitchhikers, didn't get their names. We're at the hotel. Over."
Mark nods to you and carries the stretcher inside and set the stretcher down in the kitchen.
The interior is much better maintained than the outside, it's clean and comfortable looking, a typical 'American Dream' white-picket fence type home with little owl and flower decorations and knickknacks, and a wooden plaque that reads: 'Better limp all the way to heaven than not get there at all.' And another that says: 'Today's Special: Eat it, or starve' in fancy script.
Elliot comes in, looking around, then kneels by the stretcher. Frank looks pale, with some of his curly hair stuck to his forehead with blood. Elliot checks his pulse on his wrist. "He's lost a lot of blood, and he'll need a real doctor at some point--but you saved his life, Mark, well done."
Mark shrugs, leaning back on the kitchen counter. "Bullet went clean through, otherwise I think he'd be f$#!ed. I wouldn't have been able to dig a bullet out of his chest without killing him." He checks the fridge, grunting in disappointment and instead getting himself a glass of water. You didn't get a good look inside, but it looked like it was stocked with food.
Sighing, Elliot looks up to you and stands again. He looks tired, and pale. "We've got to hole up here for a couple days while things settle down, then the Outfit will come pick him up. There's plenty of rooms, take your pick." He zip ties one of Frank's hands to the stretcher and goes to wash his hands.
You've got some time to kill. It's only about 1:20pm. Mark finishes his water and sets his pistol down on a kitchen towel on the counter, taking it apart and cleaning it meticulously. Elliot goes to the living room and lays down on the comfortable looking tan couch.
After things have settled down some, Sang-mi follows mark over to the fridge. She'll dig around for some kind of sealed beverage and something to snack on. Afterwards she heads over to Mark's equipment duffle bag.
"I'm taking dis." she says flatly, clearly not looking for a debate. She digs through the bag and takes the bipod machine gun and ammo and heads for the front door.
Once outside she'll look for tall grass, bushes, or a tree to setup in as a lookout spot toward the front of the house and driveway. She'll stay on lookout duty until someone comes looking for her.
In the fridge are Caprisuns and Sunny D, and stacks of lunchables. A weird sort of stock for a secret government safe house.
The second floor of the barn has a decent spot to set up in. You could open the second floor hay-loft doors slightly and get a good angle on the driveway, if you're willing to lay down on the old-hay covered wood floor for a long time.