Burn Notice (Mild Language)

Summary:
June 18 2014: Jericho makes his way back to a safe location in the aftermath of the aborted attempt on his life. Aaaand then he has to explain to Partisan what the hell happened.

Hanger 19

Partisan's personal workshop.


Characters

NPCs
*


Mood Music:
[*]


More Rage against the machine, as Part attends to the essentials of whatever it is that she does when she isn't being militant about things. Tonight it's a practice in preserving self, it would seem. With one arm raised, so she can get a good look at the small mirror she's set up on the work bench. Tattoo gun buzzing, as she works the ink into that skin. She's been at this for a long time today but well, she does have a hell of a pain tolerance doesn't she? Working Red and black in equal measure into a pattern she's worn for the majority of her life, a geometric somewhat floral design that doesn't seem to have any immediate concrete meaning. Ingrid wore the same ink, as have almost every person the Partisan has ever been. A small thing this, but an important one. Humming as she goes to work.

*

There's a creak as Jericho pushes the hanger door open one armed enough for him to slip in. And it is one armed because his right arm is wrapped in burn bandages from the hand to the shoulder, the shoulder also up to the neck as much as is possible. "Good –ngh – God that hurts." He grunts mostly to himself. He's bruised and dirty and smudged with ash and his breathing is a bit off because he figured he wouldn't mention to Sara that his lungs were burnt too. Damn flammable oxygen…

*

Partisan clears her throat, before glancing over but she doesn't stop. "Am I going to be angry, disappointed or laugh? I'm sort've in the middle of this, and I need to know how to brace myself. "She's gotten her ears pierced, three diamond studs equally spaced. Her hair cut to just below her shoulders (thank god) and yes, her nails done. Go ahead, say something. Go on, see what happens.

*

Jericho sighs. Well, it is her hanger after all. "Contract hit on me. Got burnt pretty bad." He's not sure if that's going to be upsetting, disappointing or amusing to her. Or maybe all three at once. He does know he's thankful she's inking herself because while she's doing that, she can't kick him. She was slightly less than pleased with him when he got himself shot, after all… "Are your…" No, no don't say anything. Pretend you don't see her painted nails. "Never mind."

*

"There’s Silver sulfadiazine in the medical kit, last row towards the end in the big red tub. Drag it over here and I'll bandage you up so you don't get gangrene and die on me." Some people remember a time when only noble women painted their nails and pierced their ears, and then most old women, midwives and those collecting blood debt wore ink. "How many of them did you kill, where did it happen. You know the drill, debrief me before I start presuming the worst over here."

*

He goes and gets the appropriate kit and carries it over in his good hand. Good thing he's left handed. "Fight didn't have time to properly develop before the cops showed up and they bolted. Professional. They didn't want a reputation for being cop killers and weren't going to hang around for the whole force to come down on their heads. I survived the initial ambush… barely… and that's about as far as it got before Detective Pezzini and your floaty purple friend from before with that chainsaw guy showed up."

*

Partisan sighs "Where did this happen?" Finally setting the needle down, and sweeping the excess ink away with a rag before working her fingers slowly to ease those kinks out. She slips open that medical kit and gets to work, delicately clipping off Jericho's shirt to inspect the burns. "Next time why don't we leave the Nestinarstvo to the Bulgarian in the room, hmm?" Slipping on a pair of gloves, before spraying the wound with a gentle disinfectant. Surveying the damage as she looks for the areas of worst damage. "You’re lucky you didn’t go into shock."

*

"My old loft. I went to sanitize it, get rid of anything that could be traced back to me. Didn't want to just demolish it since it was above some old man's restaurant." Not a very good restaurant mind, but there you go. "It is… well, pretty sanitized now, I guess. Burnt to cinders. Little lucky I didn't go with it yes." The burn stretches from his hand to his neck. The very air caught fire, so oxygen rich was it inside the apartment. "And ordinarily, I'm quite happy to do that, Parti."

*

Partisan goes to work with the silver sulfadiazine, very small amounts of it mind you. "You know, you're a decent soldier. I don't hesitate to call you my comrade do I, I operate pretty much exclusively with you. I have a high opinion of your capacity as a soldier then, but your field work needs a fuck ton of help. This part of the struggle, is not about battle field skills is it? Where’s your spare passport, what about currency which is neither digital nor American? How many doors lead out of this building, Where’s your handcuff key, your spool of spectra or a shim? Your bladed coin, well what about your ear spike?"

*

Well… she's got him there. He's an ex spec ops soldier so he has a few of those tricks but he's neither a revolutionary nor a spy and he doesn't really need to say anything for Parti to get his answer that frankly, some of those things had either not occurred to him or not been a priority. "That's quite a list, you've got there. I doubt I have half that stuff to be honest, Parti." He winces a bit. This hurts a lot and while he's good at blocking pain out… he's only so good at it. And only mortal when you get right down to it.

*

"Always have a contingency, and have a contigency in case your contingency fails. Always carry basic E and E gear with you,do I need to teach you how to get out of handcuffs and flexcuffs? Play this game long enough, and somone -will- get their hands on you. Surviving then, becomes a measure of how prepared you are." Pausing both her rant, and spreading that goo on to light her cigarette. "I set a bad example for you I suspect, because I seem like i'm little miss what the fuck ever alot've the time. That isn't because I'm not open the the possibility that shit could go south, I'm chill because the only people who could survive trying to grab me are cops. I can get out've cuffs, get out've squad cars, I've broken out of prisons, yadda yadda. I seem casual because I've done these things for real before, and because it's pretty fucking rare anyone can so much as make me skip a beat these days. You can't afford to be Casual, alright?"

*

"Point taken." Jeri looks down his ruined but still functional arm. "I can manage the escape part fairly well. Getting out of bindings was basic SEER. But I guess now that you're pointing it out I could use a little help on the preparation bit. I've been lucky in that people don't tend to nab me." Well, it goes without saying that one doesn't evade Hydra for a year without some fairly significant skill, but yeah he's been lucky and knows it. He's had a lot of close calls.

"And your wolf seems to be a bit bigger than mine." Not that Jericho would care to test that. The phrase does make him grin a bit.

*

There’s an eye roll, followed by a squeeze on that burnt flesh. "What was that, a joke?" Easing right back off with a wink and a grin, bitch. "So you know how to get out of handcuffs, flex cuffs, hobbles, thumb cuffs, stasi chains, and so forth? Can you picklocks, shim locks, bypass ignition switches? You need to stop relying on your powers, Aspect is pretty tricky but Jericho is still just a guy with some training and an SF tab. If you wanna do this, we can't have gaps or weaknesses."

*

"I've… ow! Hey!" He looks over at her and sees her grinning, then returns it.

"Bitch." He says, though he means it both fondly and in the punny manner as well.

"I can do basic… well you might call them criminal skills. There's a lot of advanced stuff I can't bypass by hand. Even before the DAPWS program I was a secure systems hacker with the cyber warfare implants, so I do tend to rely on the fact that something has a computer if it, y'know, has a computer."

*

Partisan mmms. "And then you run into situations where it can't help you, maybe an EMP, maybe something else has switched you off. Maybe there is no computer, contingencies. I can make you a shotgun with a trip to Home depot and walmart, without ID. Basic assassination and clandestine tools can and should be made by hand so you can just replace them in the field. Do you know what the red road is?" She's got burn cream going on now, and with it comes GLORIOUS pain relief. Those non adhesive bandages go on top and everything just feels, pretty good."

*

"Just what I've read in passing about it. Assuming you're neo-Native American spiritual concept, that is. Otherwise I have absolutely no idea." He seems to be relaxing. Oh that's the best he's felt in about forty five minutes. Burns suuuuuuuuuuuck. He's been burned before, of course, but never really on this scale. And Partisan's right, he should have gone into shock. It's only the regen feature on the polymorpher that's prevented him from doing so, or from drowning due to fluid buildup in his lungs. Still kinda hard to breathe, but he'll manage.

"Whew… thanks Parti."

*

Partisan takes Jeri's good arm, and sets it underarm up on her lap. "This, is the red road." Dragging her finger down his forearm from elbow to wrist. "If we want to end someone very quickly. Very, very quickly using a very basic weapon this is the route we go. There are a few ways."

She produces a Canadian quarter, before rolling it around to expose a hooked blade bolted into the coin. She presses the folded blade against the flesh, before dragging downwards. "Takes about fifteen seconds, but this is all we need here. Brain hits, with a bladed weapon are not generally advisable as these are prone to causing all manner of convulsions and so forth if done improperly. Otherwise we can use a needle, through the eye socket. Targeting the iris, the bone at the back of the eye socket is very thin but this is not a fatal injury immediately. Smaller boot knives and so forth, we need to attack the soft points. The red road." Dragging that finger across Jericho's thigh. "Here, and…" Drawing a similar line around the top of the neck. "Remember what we're doing here isn't magic, we're suffocating the brain and this process is not immediate. In a fight, we can unzip someone as well. This is almost always fatal, immediately demoralizing for his friends and gruesome for those who come after. This is why in a fight with a knife, I will almost always go for the unzip as my priority."

*

Jericho is familiar with some of this terminology, though not all of it. Army Combatives did cover knife work as well as close range gun work in the style. He actually carries a polycarb combat knife and a polycarb baton on him most times. However this is a bit different and he hadn't really given thought to more compact or disguised bladed weaponry. He looks very, very interested as she explains her own style to him… albeit a bit unsettled as she drags a sheathed blade over him. This is Partisan after all. He likes her, but he's completely honest with himself on at least one bit - she scares the living daylights out of him.

*

Partisan puts that coin away, before drawing that kerambit. Jericho's seen those before sure but from a distance. A curved ring hilted -claw-, the spine is coarsely serrated with the teeth set off axis from one another to ensure they bite. The cutting edge is long and thick, with an increasing radius until the tip. She offers the blade over carefully "You use two, one overhand one underhand. The ring makes being disarmed difficult and it allows you to grapple without dropping the blade."

Drawing a line from just under his rib cage, across his stomach and up to the rib cage on the opposite side. "Unzipping, the blade will do exactly that. Even if they heal super rapidly, you've punctured both kidneys and spilled their intestines down their legs. With the overhand, we use it differently. We ignore the neck and face, and attack the joints. "Pressing a finger into his shoulder joint, pressing against his knee. "We can unzip other areas of course, but you just keep going. From the inside of the knee to the groin is a killing blow as well, and You've seen me dive a blade into the base of someone's skull before. I can also do all my normal things whilst holding kerambits underhand, I can shoot a gun, I can exchange magazines, open doors, grapple or climb obstacles without losing our blade."

*

MAC didn't cover those, that's for sure. But he's not above learning new tricks by a long shot. "Mmmm. I have seen you use those yeah. Don't suppose you could mill me out a couple? I might be able to find some time to get proficient with them." Might. As in, will definitely make that a priority. Because a knife that you don't have to drop to pick up a gun is just kind of too useful to ignore. Also, most of the folks he tangles with aren't hardened soldiers like he or Parti. Killers, sure. Plenty of those, but it takes training and experience not to shy when someone starts swinging sharp metal at your bits.

*

Partisan nods coolly, as she produces her other kerambit which looks more like a chisel than anything. "I also like knuckle dusters, palm loads not so much but I'm a big fan of instinctive instruments. The less training it takes, the better it gets when you do have a lot of familiarity with them. The problem with proper western blades is that it's based on the best shaped we derived from a stone point. The Kerambit, is derived from a tiger's claw. The system of using them, is focused on very basic body mechanics with integrated grappling from the get go. We similarly have this huge focus in the west on knock out blows, but there’s way too many variables. The better route, is joint destruction. From fingers, to elbows, shoulders, knees, to jaws and knecks and spines. A systematic destruction of the human support structure, finished with the knife."

Nodding softly as she reclines a touch "Triangles, inverted sleepers, the flying armbar is usually my favorite due to the fact I'm usually much smaller than a male opponent and it lets be choke him out as I dislocate his shoulder, destroy his elbow joint and break his fingers whilst operating from a position of utter control.

*

Jericho pulls his bad arm in as Parti leans back and nods. "I doubt we have time to reinvent my entire CQB style, sadly, and I've found it useful enough, but you're right especially when dealing with more than human opponents. Some of them just can't be powered down. Takes a bit more of a methodical approach. Maybe we can spar sometime when we're both less busy… and I'm less burnt. Not every day one has the opportunity to learn from someone with a hundred years of operational experience, after all. If you don't mind that is. Or it wouldn't trigger your, uh, instincts."

*

Partisan eye rolls. "I'm not a mad dog, and yes I am entirely amenable to sparring. I don't have much of a definite style, but I've picked things up. Brazilian ju Jitsu's grappling is the best, Muay Thai I think does the best with sticks and for unarmed work when strikes are the focus and Silat for knife work. Never bothered with swords or lances or any of that bullshit, if you wanna learn that insanity you'll need to find someone else."

*

"Eh. I never used any of that stuff either. Except in Afghanistan. Which was for… psychological reasons. Long story. No, knife, strike and gun suit me just fine. Though hey, that Kerambit magic might help a lot when I have to…" He makes a claw motion with his fingers, clearly referring to his rarely used werewolf like Polymorpher field. "Anything to pick up an edge. If I have to fire that damn thing up, it's life or death anyway." And hey, learning how to effectively claw strike his hard. He's self taught. No one really… teaches that…

*

Partisan nods softly "What they never taught you was how to fight in a three dimensional, asymmetrical environment. With some training, we can make all sorts of shit into properly deadly weapons. I've killed my share of guys with a newspaper or a magazine, pens and pencils, hand cuffs are a favorite because they're so easily weaponized. Belts, rope, with or without a goose knot in one end, Bic lighters are another good one but not as versatile. Lengths of duct tape, you name it. Once you understand good solid fundamental aspects of proper dirty fighting, you find uses for common entirely innocent objects which would never be classified as even potentially a weapon. Things like Magazines, canteens, helmets, boot laces, all become weapons in their own way when you learn how to apply them."

*

That's a very SF attitude even if, true, it's not really training they give out. SF doesn't the things people see in movies. They just kill. Quietly. And precisely. "Well, if you're not adverse to teaching a young dog new tricks, we'll work on it in our downtime." If I live that long, he doesn't add because sometimes he wonders about that. He's come close to filling that damn grave in Westchester County a few times. Tonight was… close ish.

*

Partisan just smirks "I learn new shit all the time, I've been watching videos and I have a gym I go to where I sort've go quarter percent so people don't raise eyebrows. We're learning machines, but here's the heart of it. If you lost the war, you were outbred by the people who won the war. Those who win wars, had a better social and economic position to care for their children ensuring that the war winners outlived and so on. Humanity is a race born of war, the human body is a magnificent weapon."

*

"Now you're sounding like Instructor Michaels." Jericho laughs, remembering one of his SF instructors. "But you'll get no argument from me there. Both the body and mind seem infinitely adaptable toward it." The more so when you consider how many combat capable mutants and metas there are, but that's another can of worms entirely.

*

Partisan nods softly "Amateurs fight, professionals make war. When you become a complete combatant, you make war on your enemies. Full spectrum, infinitely adaptable and dynamic. You become unpredictable, highly responsive and predictive. You find the basics easier, and this drives your baseline capacity for maximum violence in the minimum amount of time up. Do you know how I win my gunfights, yes sure taking hits is part of it."

*

"Classic ambush doctrine. Maximum amount of violence in the shortest possible timeframe. You put them on their back foot and never give them a chance to recover." That much he's observed watching her work. It's solid war fighting thought, tried and true for three thousand years.

*

Partisan nods softly. "Aggression, wins every time. It's the most powerful tool you can bring, but to be able to keep that tempo you need to be adaptable. You need to be predictive, almost telepathic because when you're running the gun twice as hard as they are you have more free time. So when they begin to make a move, you can see them doing so and react immediately before they can enact any plan. If we do our job they shouldn't have time to think up a plan, but every so often you run into good ones. They'll cool down, let their buddies keep up the suppressive fire and they start looking around. It's why I gave you a PDW with a 50 round mag, over your silly SMG with a 20rnd mag. Your capacity to pour on the aggression goes up with time on trigger, the longer you can stay gunning and the faster you can reload the better. No stock to unfold or any such nonsense, Did you ever see me fold the stock on my Suchka? Such devices are for storage, not carriage."

*

"Fair enough." Two man fire times are really, frankly, bad tools for this kind of thing when you're a mere mortal. Jericho is used to working with a slightly larger team in a military context. On the other hand, he can wreak quite a bit of unconventional havoc in his own element, so he's familiar with some of the applications of this. Just usually involving more using the city against you and less filling the air with lead.

*

Partisan finally bothers to hang her blades up. "Same reason you see me throwing grenades all over the place, setting timed explosives, starting fires, using choking or incendiary weapons. Same reason I change my firearms load out frequently from op to op, so that they never really know what in the actual fuck they're up against. I fight every time, like it's one on a thousand. When I get fire support, well man that's super great but I never rely on it it. Relying on my teammates, means I've made expectations and that's bad. It's why when that fucking wolf showed up, I immediately discarded my firearms. Nobody wants to use a blade on a wolf, everytime everyone always fights for distance hoping to chip away. An inexperienced wolf has never had an actual scuffle, just bowling people over and gutting them. They don't usually have -any- semblance of a clue what to do about a guy or a girl with a blade."

She produces her assault pack from its resting place, before jerking that 1/4" shank about 12" long chisel looking blade free and handing it over. It's a heavy thing, so yes you could cleave off a limb with it and the tip looks like at the right angle it'd BITE into flesh and dive. "Bring tools, bring abilities and tactics that they've never seen before, and then use them in ways nobody has ever seen."

*

"Sounds solid. I'll let you handle the heavy artillery then. Let's be honest. You know what you're doing with it more than I do. You need backup on the field or tech support, I'm quite happy to provide that. Quite happy indeed."

Jeri leans back and rolls his shoulder experimentally. Yeah… that's gonna take some healing.

*

Partisan resheathes that big breaching blade with a sturdy "clunk" You wanna play fire support again for me, you're getting an actual belt fed weapon or you're staying invisible. When you start pecking away at guys, instead of pinning them down they spread out and it makes it tougher for me to press home a good flank. The advantage gained by your initial surprise, gives way to increased preparedness for further surprises along their flanks. Well, or…You've spent time with the M82 right?"

She finally rises from her seat, wandering over into the racking to return with a heavy pelican case which she pops open to reveal every red blooded American's very favorite gun(which isn't a 1911). An M107CQ, with a quick attach suppressor. "You’re a little too squishy to be running around with a belt fed, this might be a better solution. Don't you agree?"

*

"Mmmmm. Yeah. I've worked with that platform. And I can't muscle a belt fed weapon worthwhile, aside from that E21, without going all wolf. Done that once. Ripped an M2 off a national guard hummer in Chicago and went rock and roll on some poor guys who thought I was there to sabotage a nuclear reactor. But it's not my go to move. For reasons that I'm sure are obvious to you, even if they'd be to no one else." He shakes his head sadly at the memory. At least he'd gotten away before it escalated too far.


Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License