Tyler looked around the room, noting entrances and exits, then back at the bartender when the offer of free booze came up.

"Well hell, gimmie a Rye and Seven and a deck of smokes. You got any Marlboros?"

He grinned and leaned back on the bar, trading hard-eyed stares with the other occupants. The grimy looking guys in shabby fatigues and street clothes broke looks first, followed by the HA bouncers and the pimps/dealers in the suits.

Andy smiled, free booze was a soldier's wet dream, still, the other trick was not to abuse anyone's hospitality too much, "I could really go for a Gastown Amber Ale, it sounds fantastic, real beer is going to be a treat."

Andy thought he'd done well not to balk at the prices. The night was going to be an expensive one, he was glad that Tyler was along to back up the bill, he didn't think the HAs would take kindly to providing him with a receipt.

He nodded over to the curtain and the music that thumped through it, "I'll tell you man, I don't know whether to be more impressed by the fact that you're running a strip joint after World War Three or that you've got electricity. You guys really have your acts together."

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #225):

The bartender smiled as he poured a perfect beer from the tap, placed it in front of Andy. As he worked he chatted, introducing himself as Randy.

"Hell yeah. Someone had to do it. The "authorities" fucked off after the bombs hit and haven't really been around since. Man, the cops and Crown Counsel (provincial and federal prosecutors) are great at hassling us when things are going their way, but where are they now?"

"Nah, people call us bikers thugs and criminals. Truth is, it's only a true minority that are bad apples, like one percent, and the rest of us we got families, we live in the community, we're just ordinary folks that like to ride, don't take bullshit from anyone and can take care of ourselves. People trust us more than they trust the cops, truth is people maybe realise that it's because of us things aren't as bad as they could be around here. One day we're going to get things going again, rebuild the city. No one's going to get rid of us."

He then mixed Tyler's Rye and Seven using a pre-war can of pop (soda) and bottle of Crown Royal, plus ice cubes and a plastic straw.

"So how about you? What are you doin' with your life? We're looking for guys that are good in a fight, help us clean out the real criminals around here, gang-bangers like the Los Diablos, Viet Ching, Independent Soldiers and UN Gang."

Looking the pair over he decided they weren't junkies or crackheads.

"Say, you fellers want to smoke up? Do some caps? Not many guys can say they done rails off a stripper's ass these days!"

Laughing, he winked at them.

At the VPD station, Lee told Clarke that Granville Island Brewery had been a successful micro-brewery (the first in Canada) before the war and they had received information is was still in business.

"A cap is methamphetamine powder taken orally in capsule form, mixed with water it's injected. The crystal form is smoked or taken as a suppository. A real drug supermarket for sure." She smirked. "If only one percent of Hells Angels are criminals, that's a better rate than ordinary citizens. They did seem to have a far lower rate of conviction than other "suspected" criminals before the war, so maybe!"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:38, Sat 20 Dec 2008.

Andy took a long, appreciative draw of the beer and smacked his lips, "Damn, that's good," he said, he listened to the man speak, and nodded and smiled, "I'm glad someone's thinking in the long term, too many people just trying to survive or rebuild things the old way. Me, I did a lot of just surviving, fought against the Soviets, held off bandidts so communities could get their harvests in, but I want more. Somewhere to settle down, to build a life instead of just living day to day."

He took another drink, "That's why I headed here, rumour was that things were getting better here. I signed on with the UBC, they have a fairly secure enclave, they tasked me with security for their bio-hazard teams, that's where I met Bear. The thing is, I'm not sure if they're methods are right, they seem to want to get things back to normal, back to the old days, you know what I mean? They're well-meaning enough, but the old ways got us into this crap, we need to try something new in my opinion."

He thought about the offer of harder drugs, "Man, it's been so long since I took anything harder than alcohol and nicotine, I'd probably be off my head for days. I can't afford to lose the edge for that long. Still, I appreciate the offer. Though, I don't see why a man would want any more with such fine beer as this on offer."

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #228):

Randy laughed, lighting a cigarette. "Yeah, soon as you know it, we'll be paying taxes and getting screwed by politicians and busted by cops before you know it. Don't get me wrong, we need people to lock the bad guys away, pick up the garbage and sweep the streets. Way we look at it, we need to make sure we have a hand in how things are run, get in on the ground floor. I'll let Bear fill you in."

Thinking about this comment, Andy knew that while corruption wasn't unknown in Canadian cities, especially back east, it wasn't nearly widespread as it had become in some small and large American cities and even states in the 90's. However, if the new city government was to be built on a rotten foundation, that could change how things were run for generations.

Randy explained the generator. "We run the genny on methane, plus we got solar panels on the roof for off-peak hours, hooked up to batteries."

He addressed Tyler. "So friend, you got a name? What'cha you doing here?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:22, Sat 20 Dec 2008.

Tyler gulped his Rye and Seven, crunching on the ice. Putting down the half-empty drink he lit up a Marlboro with his vintage Zippo, engraved with his unit's logo and nickname, "The Herd". "Ahhh, man, that's good!"

Realising that he could easily let himself get hammered if he didn't watch himself, he finished his drink, then asked for a pint of whatever Andy was having.

"Name? Uh, yeah, it's Tyler. I got me a million-dollar wound in Iran, and me and some other vets from the 82nd were shipped to the Seattle VA Medical Center where we were supposed to be discharged. Then we heard they were going to put a stop-loss on us, cancel our papers, pull us back in. We decided we didn't want to go to war no more, skipped the border, and here we are."

Clarke chuckled.  "I have a feeling his statistics are a bit skewed.  They are probably trying to paint as good a picture of themselves as possible to sell Andy and Tyler on their organization.  Let's just listen in and see what else he has to say."

In reply to Andrea Clarke-Sullivan (msg #231):

"The Hells line about 1% being bad is pure hogwash of course, but in a funny way there is some truth-in-advertising there. The hard-core proven criminal bikers, the core group, they call themselves the "one-percenters", they even have a patch. Like a merit badge of evil. Fighting cops, committing murder or assault or rape, anything that makes you a trusted member of the gang. That's how you earn it."

Upon invitation of the bartender, the pair took their beers into the stage area.

Jade was leaving the stage after her set. Brittany was coming on next, serenaded by The Cult's "She Sells Sanctuary".

"AH HELL YEAH, COME ON GUYS, PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR JADE... SHE SURE WAS A HANDFUL WASN'T SHE... NOW WE GOT BRITTANY UP NEXT, READY TO PARTY! ARE YOU READY TO PARTY, GUYS? YOU WANNA GET HIGH? AH HELL YEAH!!!"

Brittany was a hard-eyed blonde with fake tits. Whitney, a short haired brunette with lots of tattoos and piercing was up next, then Tasha, who looked and moved stoned.

They passed an hour nursing beers, then another. It was coming on 2300 when Bear deigned to show his face, accompanied by a couple of unnamed bodyguards with pistols under their leather vests. He introduced himself but not his freinds.

"Come on guys, let's talk business."

He motioned to a doorway in the back by the stage by the DJ booth. One of the bodyguards opened the reinforced door, and inside was a hallway leading to some stairs.

"Sure thing, Bear," Andy replied and followed the big man to wherever he was leading them.

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #234):

"You got it, man!" Swallowing the rest of his mug of beer Tyler belched, then followed Andy.

2300 Hour Local

They noted on the way to the door that the half-empty room had filled to at lease 30-40 men, from "Gynecology Row" to the dimly-glimpsed rear tables and booths. The men were wearing a mix of US BDUs and Canadian combats, as well as more civilian street wear from dusters and cowboy hats to rain coats, leather jackets and baseball caps.

At least a couple dozen women, some in their teens, one or two in their early teens, were present as well. Some circulated among the tables carrying drinks, others sat with the men, a couple naked ones doing lewd lap-dances, grinding down in a way that barely qualified as erotic. The dancer on stage was now in the nude while she performed the traditional pole-dance, and most of the women on the floor didn't have much more on. This really all that much different from before the war, fully-nude erotic dancing being legal in Canada (lap-dancing excepted).

What wasn't like before the war was the strong smell of pot, mixed with cigarette and cigar smoke.

They entered the narrow hallway, then climbed some stairs up to the top. They passed through an armoured door with eyeport and entered an office.

Bear sat in the plush leather chair. Several monitors showed angles from inside and outside the building. The outside monitors covered the immediate front and back alley of the club building. Inside showed glimpses of the bar, lobby, stage, backstage, and a garage.

"Drink? Coffee? Blow? Joint?" He motioned to a well-stocked wet bar. His beefy bodyguards made themselves comfortable, eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

After they helped themselves, he asked them how they were doing, and where they were living.

Once they repeated the cover stories they were given, he made his pitch. If they had made a mistake, it didn't seem to register.

"Boys, there's a lot of chaos and anarchy here. The so-called authorities abandoned the city. We moved in, and we got a good thing going here. Now, I don't mind a little anarchy, but business is business. We need good guys, guys who can handle themselves. We got gang-bangers, deserters, small-time bozos, all moving in, claiming territory. They need to learn respect, and we got to teach it to them. The cops and the government, it'll take years for them to get organised, and when they do they'll be looking for people to contract out different services. Transportation, construction, utilities. Fire. Police. Security."

He looked at them. "Sure, we got a lot of hell-raisers. Brawlers. Long-hairs like me, born to ride, ones the cops know to hassle. But we're looking to upgrade our image, and we're taking people in who look more clean-cut, ex-military guys like you. Guys that won't raise suspicions, don't have records. We already got a bunch together, got military-grade firepower. Guys who can pass as security contractors, who already got the training and experience."

"When the hiring starts, these people will be the first in line, getting in on the ground floor. We're working on building relationships with politicians and other community leaders, working it from the top down."

"Once it all comes together we'll have this city by the balls."

"Guys like you can get in while the getting is good. Are you interested? We're businessmen, you'll be fuckin' rich, believe me. Well paid, anything you want. Booze, drugs, guns, girls, cars, property..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:51, Tue 23 Dec 2008.

"That sounds interesting, and I agree that we need to get things organisedquickly and that the local authorities seem to have things arse backward, I mean, they should be taking out the street scum that you say is muscling in here, instead they're focusing on health issues, free clap clinics and shit like that." Andy said thoughtfully, "I was a soldier, still am in many ways, if you want things done you gotta make it happen, if people get hurt on the way, that's the price of doing buisness these days. I mean, having your balls rotted off by some sort of super clap that the medicos say is going on is one thing, but prioritising that over the human disease? Short sighted in my opinion." he looked at Bear, "I'm interested in signing on, you lot seem to have the right focus, but I need to just get things clear. If we worked for you and became sub-contractors for the local authorities, what would you be wanting us to do in return for what you're offering?"

In reply to Zhang Rachel Lee (msg #232):

"Sounds like the boys are getting pitched.  Let's listen and find out what's going down."

In reply to Andrea Clarke-Sullivan (msg #238):

Tyler, looking a little lost but not wanting to seem like an idiot, kept his mouth shut except to say, "sure, man, tell me more."

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #237):

"Want from you? Nothing illegal, oh no! Just, you know, keep us up to date on what's goin' on. Ongoing investigations, how many cops there are, what operations they are planning. Who they're gonna bust."

"There's different punks that are running around, causing trouble. They're bad for business. Bangers, pimps, dealers, and so on. We let you know who they are, you take care of them as part of your job. Problem solved for us and you get the credit, which is good for you. We'll also let you know who's protected, who's cool and shouldn't be touched."

"As for a clinic, that sounds like a good idea. Sick girls are also bad for business. Let me know more about that, I want to get my people checked out, guys and girls."

As he talked he poured a powder on the glass coffee table in front of the security monitors. Methodically sorting it into neat parallel lines with a razor, he looked up and asked, "anyone for a toot? To seal the deal?"

"I am game...pity we can't get into anything more exciting," he said abruptly, a bit nervous of the drugs before him", though I think I will pass on the rail...I...my..."

Tyler thought fast before sputtering out another sentence.

"...My nose is already pissing from earlier," he said finally, hoping he would believe Tyler had already snorted a bit earlier with someone else, at some other locale.  Tyler kept his game face, keeping in time with his paratrooper wits.

Andy looked down at the little lines of white powder and then up at Bear. He deliberately avoided looking at the security camera although he was willing to bet that the video tape was running.

"Listen, Bear, I ain't ever done anything like this before, up to now, booze and tobacco have been my drugs of choice." he looked at him, "This ain't about scratching a habit though, is it? It's about sealing the deal. It's necessary, so I'll do it, but I want your hand on it afterward."

He bent down to the table and said, "OK, Bear, you've got a deal, show me how you do this shit."

He looked at the big man and waited, hoping that the leads that he brought back from this meeting were worth the shit he was going to get into for all of this, still, he thought, if I don't do this, we'll probably both be floating face down in the harbour before morning.

"Do you sniff or blow?"

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #242):

"I hope there's nothing in that will get them poisoned or hooked," Clarke said.  "One time shouldn't force a habit, though with methamphetamine you can never tell, eh?"

In reply to Andrea Clarke-Sullivan (msg #243):

Lee looked up at her, still listening through the headphones.

"I'm no expert, but if they're doing a line of cocaine then no, they won't form a habit. Crystal meth has a high rate of addiction, freebasing and smoking crack cocaine a little less. Heroin and morphine have low addiction rates, but people don't know that."

She tried not to look worried.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:09, Fri 26 Dec 2008.

Bear looked at them, not knowing what the hesitation was. He looked like he didn't believe Tyler, but didn't look suspicious.

"Shit, are you fucking pussies? You shitting me? I bet both of you are virgins, too."

He shook his head in disbelief.

"Ah, fuck it. We can do shots of Jack, it's all the same. Well, no need to let this go to waste..."

He did a rail, then the bodyguards each did the ones laid out for Tyler and Andy.

After pouring some shots he asked, "you want some pussy? We got girls. Old, young... really young. You into boys? Something can be arranged."

Tyler simply stayed put, not giving any reaction to that comment about boys.  He chuckled at the notion of getting laid at a time like this, and simply shook his head.

"I think I will have to keep that one on hold for now," he said.

Tyler gave Mac a glance before continuing.

"Definitely later though...depending on the quality, that is."

Tyler grabbed a shot glass of Jack, and smiled warmly.  He hadn't had good whiskey in ages.

Andy took the proffered drink and said, "I'm good with booze at the moment."

He looked at Bear, "To a long and fruitful relationship."

The shots of prewar Jack Daniels went down smooth, lighting a fire in their bellies.

Bear laughed, poured them another round.

"All right, that's more like it! You guys are in. Let me show you around the place. Later, I'll introduce you to the guy who'll be your boss. His name is Brownstone. Used to be a sniper up in Alaska, before and during the war. Now he's down here."

They rememebered the name from the briefing. Not a known Angel, but a shadowy presence that was involved with them. This made more sense, if he was a soldier, a killer, that would be the kind of person the Angels would respect, perhaps even fear.