I'm Here to Kick Ass

C

CaptainFrost

Guest
Original poster
Ryanne was sitting in, what had now become, her favorite place in the house. She was under the table, with her laptop, chairs surrounded the sides of the table that faced windows. She was online, searching for body-guards and such. She had posted on her need of one on a web-site, saying she was prepared to pay anything.

She had almost been killed twice already, and it had only been a week since she hacked into the government's computers (for the second time). First, she was almost shot, then they tried hitting her with a bus. Though, the bus could've just been her not looking both ways. Whatever it was, Ryanne was in need of assistance. She needed to get back in, get evidence, and take it to the media. She needed to bring the situation to the light. The government was testing new biological weapons on people, those people could die if no one did anything.
 
Solomon had noticed the need, a small grin crossed his slightly scruffy features. "Finally some work..." He murmured before replying to the ad. 'I can do it, I want $800 a week, forwarding my credentials.' He replied to her post along with a document labeling his military history as well as a recent medical exam. It was the best he could do, but from the lack of replies she seemed to have very little choice of others.

Just in case he went about his small apartment to gather his things, stuffing his clothes into a duffle bag along with a rifle and a shotgun. A few boxes of ammo was thrown in as well while he stopped to simply look at his pistol, the Jericho baby eagle. It brought a smile to his face every time he saw it. Running a hand through his short hair he turned back to his lap top. 'I can start now'. With that he simply sat back on his bed and waited for her response, whatever it may be.
 
Ryanne breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally, a reply," she said quietly. 'Great, I can do $800 a week.' She replied. She stopped for a moment, thinking. 'But I can't pay it right now, can you wait for a week or so?' she typed. 'Anyway, if you accept... Meet me at Meow Café on 13th street.'

She sighed a little, leaning forward. She didn't like having to give out her information on the internet, but THEY already knew where she worked and lived. What was the worse that could happen? At least Ryanne could wear baggy clothes and not her work uniform. 'I'll be wearing black sweats and a black hoodie' she typed, finishing up her reply and posting it.
 
Catching the reply he gave a short response. 'Alright, I'll see you there... you'll know it's me.' With that he finished up packing, stuffing his computer into a bag as well as the last of his weapons he headed out the door. Stuffing his pistol in his waist band he pulled his black t-shirt over it. Camouflage pants were upon his legs, the bottoms tucked into combat boots. With a huff he pulled his duffle onto his shoulder and headed out.

It wasn't far of a drive in his beat up ford to get to the cafe. Soon enough he was parked outside, a careful eye upon his surroundings while he entered. The man had a hint of swagger in his step, a look of owning the place. He was a bit confidant but so was every other ex-marine at his age. For all he knew this girl was just afraid of some stalker.
 
Ryanne was sitting at a table in the far corner. She had a messenger bag with her, in which she had only her laptop. She sat with her foot tapping non-stop and looking around nervously. Ryanne didn't notice the man as he came in at first. She looked over, watching him for a moment, taking in his movements and the way he carried himself.

She wanted to wave to him, but didn't. After all, she was wearing what she said she would wear.
 
He glanced about the cafe, well trained eyes looking over everyone within it. Slowly he made his way toward the corner of the room after noticing the mass of black. "Well then, are you the one who wanted a bodyguard?" His voice was low, both in pitch and southern drawl. He even took a seat across from her, taking another moment to look out across the cafe, "What short of issues are you having?"
 
She looked up at him as he came over. "Alright Mister, take a seat," Ryann whispered, pulling on his sleeve. She pulled her hood tighter around her face, as if to block the sight of her mouth moving. "So, here's the deal," Ryanne began. "Uh... Well, I hacked into the government's database 'cause some guy said they were running biological tests on people and I wanted to see if it was true. As luck would have it, it was quite true. Anyway, now they've got even more security, so I can't just hack in again and show the evidence to the media. I need time to get past their security, lots of time. But..." she hesitated for a moment, looking around the cafe again. "But now they're trying to kill me!"Ryanne's head drooped and she looked sad for a moment. "So, that's why I need you. I just need to stay alive long enough to get back in," she said.
 
Solomon looked a bit surprised while she pulled him in, the girl was definitely paranoid. For a moment he thought she was simply bluffing or delusional but as she continued his features grew more serious. "So, the government is trying to kill you and you want me to protect you?" He questioned, cantering his head slightly while he watched her closely. He seemed a bit suspicious but as would anyone. "As long as you're paying..."
 
"Do I look like the kind of person who would lie about such a thing?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. Leaning back a little, Ryanne sighed. "Of course I'll pay, as long as you keep me safe. You up to it?"

Ryanne looked directly at the man now, as if she were challenging him. She knew he was ex-military, but what if he had been discharged for not being adequate? Of course, she could tell, that was not the case. This man looked tough.
 
He shook his head almost sarcastically at her first question, if nothing else to tease her. As she continued he felt a grin cross his lips and leaned in to give a nod. "Like I said, you pay me you have me, just tell me who to shoot and don't get in the way." Was his response to it while he leaned back into his chair. "My truck is parked outside, if you want a lift to wherever you need to go."
 
"Alright Mister, here's the deal, I need you to stick with me until I can get back in and retrieve some evidence." Ryanne looked around nervously again. "And, for now we'll chill at my place. Once that becomes too dangerous, we're going to have to go somewhere else. You can be in charge of where to go, so, I'm entrusting you with my life."

Ryanne smiled slightly. "I sure hope you're as good as I think you are," she said.
 
"Fine by me." His response was simple, his eyes dead serious while he nodded. "You can trust me." Solomon gave a smile, this time trying to put her at ease. "Most people call me Cain... Just so you know." He was doing his best to make her calm down, to make herself feel at ease.
 
"Nice to meet you Cain," she replied. "My name's Ryanne, but you can call me Riley." She stood up, grabbing her messenger bag. "Let's go," she said, starting to head out the door.
 
Giving a quiet nod he quickly followed and eventually got infront of her. Leading her outside and to his truck he was alert, apparently as if he was on the job. The man took his profession seriously. Opening the door for her he waited.
 
She nodded to him politely and got in. "Hey, you're not a super serious guy, are you? After all, I'm still young, I might be joking around a lot," Ryanne asked, poking her head out the window to look at him. She smiled a little. "Actually, though, that's fine. I wouldn't want to distract you from keeping me safe."
 
"I am when lives are at stake." He replied looking back to her with a nod before going around the truck to get in the drivers side. Glancing to her he offered a slight grin, "But you haven't paid me to be serious." With that he drove out, looking to her for driections home.
 
Ryanne smiled and began giving him directions. Her home wasn't too far, just about three minutes away from the cafe. "My room's kind of a mess," she confessed as they arrived to the apartment building. She got out of the truck and waited for him, meanwhile, she looked around again.
 
"It's fine, I'm not here to judge... just to protect." He replied with a shrug. Getting out of the truck he grabbed his bag from the back, already assessing the area before motioning her to lead the way in.
 
They walked up to her room on the third floor of the building. Ryanne opened the door and let him in.

Her room was messy. Chairs were set up in circles or squares with sheets on top of them. In the small living room were two tables with even more chairs surrounding them. There was no more furniture aside from the chairs and tables, besides a small refridgerator. The windows had black shades covering them and the door had extra locks on it.

"Pardon the OCD," Ryanne said, laughing nervously. She turned a little red at the sight of her own room. "I just... I'm really paranoid," she explained.
 
He took a quick glance around before nodding. In an instant he upturned the tables and moved them to the windows, actually blocking any sight in. "That's better." He spoke looking about before dropping his bag to the floor. "I don't blame you for being paranoid, in your situation anyone would be." Was his reply while he began to take out his firearms, placing them in key positions around her home for easy access. "Well then, where do I sleep?"
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back