Guns for Hire - Script Seventeen
Mariposa County Bank, Mariposa 10.38am - 09/06/2015
Entering the bank lobby behind Frank Uzzitt & Alex, Vrasten smiled casually at the two security guards stationed to either side of the door however his smile quickly faded as hidden alarms alert the two guards to Vrasten's concealed sub dermal snub pistol, as both goons raised stun sticks Vrasten gingerly withdrew the weapon from under his jacket pinched between forefinger & thumb & ejected the magazine,
"Sorry about that fella's, you get so used to the dam things being there forget you've got em"
Acknowledging the apology, the guards allowed Vrasten to pocket the pistol without further trouble.
"Prick"
muttered Alex as Vrasten sat beside her in the waiting area.
Despite the worried looks from the petite brunette behind the counter ten minutes or so later Uzzitt turned from the counter & pocketed a prepaid debit card to the tune of $220K, outside of the bank he proffered it to Vrasten & Alex, before Vrasten could react Alex took the card & slipped it beneath her amply filled T-shirt.
On the drive back to Franks place Vrasten put a call in to their contact for the flight South, with the pick up agreed he pocketed the phone & in response to Alex's questioning look responded,
"9.15pm to tomorrow night at Burfield"
Uzzitt Farm, Mariposa 11.41am - 09/06/2015
Locked & loaded they'd agreed to skip Uzzitt's place & head back over to NC for a last night in the Forlorn Hope plus pick up a couple of shortfalls on the shopping list, Alex joined the other four in the hummer leaving the S-MAX in one of Uzzitt's outbuildings, it was a tight squeeze for the five of then plus all their kit but Alex didn't complain as she got the front passenger seat.
Vrasten, after listening to Uzzitt's request for updates as their investigation progressed, handed over one of the several anonymous pay-as-you-go mobiles he'd recently purchased,
"Assuming it works south of here I'll give you a call when we know anything for definite"
Forlorn Hope, Night City 11.53pm - 09/06/2015
On
stage the Slaughtered Lambs were playing to, if not full, certainly a rowdy
house, the floor slick with spilt beer, Mariusz, Vrasten & Alex tucked themselves
as best they could in one of the more private booths where went over what they
new, Skinpin had dipped out earlier to stock up medical supplies from the Hope's
surgery whilst Gonzales had decided to take an early one & had got his head
down for some shut eye in the hummer, besides, whilst Gonzales was pretty sure
the hummer would be safe on the street outside the Hope he wasn't willing to
risk all their kit or repeat vandalism of his beloved hummer, some twat having
run a key down its wing earlier in the evening.
Over the afternoon Alex had picked up a piece of America's finest, a long barreled
nickel plated Armalite 44 12.00mm handgun, it might not be state of the art
but she was sure as shit that it'd stop any motherfucker in their tracks. Mariusz,
satisfied with his own personal arsenal had tapped up Bluto for a half dozen
magnetic tracking bugs similar to what Alex had stashed in her kit bag. Additionally
they'd also visited one of the cities secure inner city shopping malls where
Vrasten had picked up a language chip for his inbuilt, thinking this a good
idea Alex had accompanied him on his shopping expedition & both were now conversing
in Spanish, albeit badly, care of the cranial located card reader. At the same
time Vrasten had also picked up a "Rough Guide" data chip detailing geography,
climate, vegetation, flora & fauna of Ecuador.
In stride with their new found wisdom a visit was also made to the NCM state university bookshop where the geek behind the counter sold them a chipped guide to genetic engineering.
Back in the Hope Alex had again expressed her desire to the others for "something with kick" & so had made belated inquires to a couple of the Hope's more reliable if not irregular fixers, regrettably at such short notice nobody was in a position to accommodate Alex's wish list, a .50 calibre vehicle mounted cannon, although one geezer suggested he could lay his hands on a cheap Chinese copy, declining the alternative for the moment Alex left the inquiry hanging open pending their return to NC.
With Banger & the Lambs whipping the punters up into storm Skinpin rejoined them in the booth however as no body was up for a late night session & agreeing it probably wouldn't be the best of ideas they headed out into the cool night air to join Gonzales in getting some Zzzz's.
Highway 5, Southern California 12.21am - 10/06/2015
Having cleared the city limits Gonzales took the hint & pulled off the interstate in search of a late breakfast, he also took the opportunity to yet again fill the hummer's ever emptying gas tank as well as the half dozen Jerry cans strapped on the roof, after all who new when they'd next get Chooch enough to satisfy the hummer's 6.6L Duramax turbo V8, at only 9 miles to the gallon there was every possibility of it being a one way road trip.
Burfield Airfield 7.08pm - 10/06/2015
Taking their time they'd still got to Burfield a couple of hours before the
deadline, turning of the interstate Gonzales drove the hummer slowly passed
the broken hoarding musing on events the last time they'd been here.
The concrete access
road remained littered with debris & in many places thriving creosote bush had
forced its way through the broken surface, gently steering the hummer along
it took some fifteen minutes to navigate the two miles to the main perimeter
fence. Driving over the discarded security barrier all five could see the two
crumpled wrecks from three months earlier, however more importantly was the
C27 sitting on the decaying apron, with no other vehicle in sight Gonzales steered
the hummer slowly towards the waiting plane.
Parked beneath an outstretched wing the aircraft was bigger than at first thought,
on & around the lowered tailgate three goons, probably the flight crew, stood
watching the hummer, hands hovering around holstered side arms. Easing themselves
out of the hummer introductions were quickly made after which the waiting flight
crew visibly relaxed, clearly pleased that the merchandise had arrived the hummer
was loaded & kit was packed into timber crates stenciled as medical supplies
& agricultural machinery, on inspection it was apparent that several crates
did indeed contain medical paraphernalia.
Querying
what the procedure was to be the shortest of the three introduced himself as
the flight engineer, Lacey Jones, & grinned,
"OK so it goes like this my friends, the weathers looking pretty good, light headwind, but nothing to worry about, you can expect a flight duration of 8 to 9 hours, if it gets shitty we may have to put the crate down on route for fuel but as I said forecast looks good. Any thing other than blades go in the crates, no disrespect but we don't want any fuck ups mid flight, once we're in the air you stay in the back, there's a bucket to piss in & cold box full of munches to keep you happy, anybody pukes, clean it up. As requested we'll be flying into Shell Mera, we've got the nod that although its an operational Ecuadorian air Force unit in practice they've nothing other than a couple of lightweights in the lot, the airfield's mainly operated by some global ball breakers called the "Mission Aviation Fellowship" these guys run the show in Shell & by all accounts are a bunch of Jesus freaks out doing good for the world."
"Anyway, when we anchor its been arranged that the kit gets shunted to one of
there distribution sheds. We've got a dozen or so of crates that contain genuine
medical shit
supposedly donated by another pissy outfit called the " Baptist Global
Response" when this kit gets moved out you guys can split but I'm warning you
if any fucker causes any shit within the airfield do not expect us to be around
to bail your collective balls out of the fire."
Opening a satchel whilst he talking, Lacey went on,
"OK
so far, you goons get to be project workers for BGR, make sure you've got these
pretty little numbers on, there the real McCoy, so if anybody from the 
fellowship
has worked with BGR before you shouldn't look to out of place."
"When we're on line, Wilk's, that's the guy with wings, will blag the MEF sky jockeys & tell 'em we've got a hitch which will delay our departure, call sign by the ways is BGR027, we'll string it out for 5 days with parts being flown in on day 4, if you don't make it back to Shell Mera by day 5, your history as far as we're concerned."
As Lacey rattled on Vrasten had a nasty thought, the others had all seen overseas military service & therefore had been subjected to endless needles for what ever pox got thrown at them, he, Vrasten, however had never been dosed for anything worse than crabs,
"Er, Skinpin, can I have a word"
Nicaraguan airspace 1.23am - 11/06/2015
For the third time since departing Burfield Vrasten rinsed the puke from his mouth & tried to concentrate on the information streaming into his head from the genetics data chip , Skinpin grinned at him,
"Geez Vrasty you might feel crap but just think how feels for us, we've gotta watch, Oh & when your done there's a couple of jabs I need to give you for typhoid & yellow fever"
Ecuador
airspace 8.16am - 12/06/2015
Dropping down over the cloud shrouded foothills the Spartan circled ever lower towards the the Shell Mera runway, glancing out of the emergency escape door window Gonzales caught sight of a couple SA 310 Ecureuil utility choppers as well as several T34 Mentor's trainers in the EAF compound.
Shell Mera Airfield, Ecuador 8.37am - 12/06/2015
As the C27 taxied back along the runway Lacey came back through from the flight deck,
"Time to play boys & girls, officially we're broken, follow my lead, smile at the crazy's an' you'll be of this shit heap within the hour"
Route
45, Ecuador 9.42am - 12/06/2015
Just
as Lacey had suggested they found themselves passing through the unmanned airfield
security barrier & immediately out into the dusty streets of Shell &
then the village of Mera before heading on towards Puyo several hours North,
originally intending to pay a visit to Voz Andes Hospital Alex pointed out that
with the bodies cremated & according to Uzzitt the Doc there never having
seen the bodies there wasn't much to be gained, with that in mind Gonzales kept
going North when Skinpin ID'd the place on the outskirts of Puyo.
Passing the occasional over loaded lumber wagon, laden donkey & overcrowded broken down bus Gonzales pushed the hummer along towards Arajuno, three hours later he slowed as they cam to an unmarked & broken track cutting if to the left, for a second or two Vrasten closed his eyes & accessed the memory card purchased in NC & gave Gonzales the thumbs up, unhappily Gonzales swung the hummer off road & pushed through the encroaching undergrowth, four hours or so later they emerged sweating in the air conditionless hummer into Arajuno.
Arajuno 4.41pm - 12/06/2015
Gonzales stood on the brake as the hummer emerged on to the compacted dirt street of Arajuno, gradually twenty plus T-shirt wearing kids sporting last seasons city cast off's gathered around the ticking hummer, despite the Quechua dialect, Gonzales understood their chatter pretty well, however Alex & Vrasten struggled to make sense of it all even with the language chip loaded in their chipware sockets, Skinpin dished out a half dozen candy bars & rolled a spliff whilst Mariusz spotted a chilled Coca-Cola chiller outside of Arajuno's one & only hostel come bar,
"Anybody for a coke"