Lincoln Victor Hunsucker
"South Carolina Kid"
Age: 31
Sex: Male
Blood Type: -0
Past Occupation: Career Criminal
Skill(s): Lincoln is a talented brawler and thief, skills he acquired from a misspent youth. His father also taught him how to use a wide range of firearms and explosives. Though it's certainly not his most impressive talent he is a gifted guitar player.
Equipment: He carries a pocket knife and a hip holstered 1911 .45.
Background:
Lincoln was born into a family of chaos. During his birth his mother passed from complications, hours after he was born his eldest brother was shot and killed. His father, Victor Hunsucker, was a man with a big reputation in the underworld of motorcycle clubs and drug running. With no mother to influence him Lincoln grew up tough and idolized his father with some restraint. He understood his father's complexities, while he wasnt a good man he wasnt a bad one either. Victor Hunsucker did many terrible things in his youth as a member of the Hells Angels and some in his elder years as well. After a bad accident however Victor couldnt ride and was forced to take an active role in his children's lives. Lincoln grew up with two brothers from the same mother and many other half brothers across the country. His father groomed his boys to be strong men with the necessary talents to make them master criminals. The boys also inherited bits of their fathers looks, all turning out quite attractive. Morris being the biggest of them all followed by Allen the middle one and most attractive. Lincoln was the runt for some time, being younger than his two brothers by three and five years. However around the time Lincoln began going through puberty he beefed up and began exercising constantly. At the age of sixteen Lincoln was given his first gun, a matte black Thompson series 80 1911 that chambered with .45 ACP rounds with a checkered wood grip. With age Lincoln grew talented with his gun. As the three grew they specialized in aspects of their father's work. The middle brother Allen grew good with mechanics and guns, the eldest brother Morris had a talent for breaking into places, and Lincoln grew to be the fighter of the group. At the age of eighteen Lincoln was brought into the family business fully. During Lincoln's party his father brought him out to the garage of their small home. He explained to Lincoln the family had been hired to raid a small marijuana farm and that he wanted him on board. Lincoln more than happily agreed and the family laid plans to steal everything. After some months the family felt it was ready, all except Morris. Morris believed they needed more men in order to watch take the inside of the barn. The boys' father disagreed and refused to allow any one else in on the job.
The day of the raid Morris and Lincoln were tasked with retrieving firearms for the lot of them. Allen and their father took the day to prepare their vehicle. The four met at a designated location several miles from the barn they called their target. Morris and Lincoln were going into the building while their father and Allen watched the exits. The group entered the 18 wheeler that Allen had spent the day outfitting with armor plating and a heavy duty front guard. Inside the rig the boys readied their weapons, Allen had a hunting rifle, Morris and Lincoln held Remington 870s. The big rig was driven down the long dirt road and as they neared the cut the lights and slowed the vehicle long enough for Lincoln and Morris to exit. The 18 wheeler would be taken up the road where Allen would watch the road that led away from the barn. Lincoln and Morris ran in the field next to the farm, adjacent to the one road that led to the barn. As the boys neared the barn they split apart, Morris heading around the back and Lincoln around towards the large front door. Lincoln scanned the area around the barn. He closed in and saw a smaller door cut into the large double. He held the shotgun by it's stock and extended his left hand towards the door. He tested it and felt the resistance of a lock on the handle. He grabbed his shotgun with both hands and brought down the butt on the handle. It bent and he struck it again, knocking it from it's place. He pushed opened the door and moved inside quickly, then shut the door behind himself. He scanned the room and saw multiple large plants under many lights which created an almost white tint to the room. As he looked up he saw a small secondary balcony where several men sat around a table. Lincoln spotted two muscled shirtless men standing over a table snipping buds on the ground floor. He lowered himself behind a plant and looked past the men towards where he hoped Morris had moved inside but didnt see him. Lincoln peaked further out then heard a loud bang from the opposite side of the room. He ducked back behind cover and heard men mumbling, then the blast of a shotgun. He rose from his knees and heard the pops of smaller pistols. He looked up to the balcony and saw men getting firearms ready. He raised his shotgun then squeezed the trigger and watched eagerly as he felt the recoil. He saw two men side by side erupt with blood. He slammed back the fore end and adjusted his aim for a man on the edge of the balcony taking aim with an AK-47. The man trained his sights on Lincoln and squeezed the trigger, letting loose a barrage of bullets. Lincoln threw himself to the floor and watched as bullets ripped through soil containers and broke plant stems. He saw them strike ground near him as well, very narrowly missing his head. He heard the crack of a shotgun, then a second and Morris shouting. Lincoln ducked from behind cover for a moment and heard the AK go off again, he threw one hand up over his head and ducked down again. This time a bullet ripped through Lincoln's left arm. Lincoln's dropped his shotgun and clutched his arm. He shouted in pain, he had never been shot before and he certainly hadnt expected hole in his arm. Looking at his arm he was almost baffled by the clean hole through his forearm.
"Lincoln!" Morris shouted from the back, "Link!"
Lincoln took a deep breath, then another quickly, followed by another. He grabbed his shotgun and aimed it over the edge of the plants towards where the AK man had last been. He squeezed the trigger and let the recoil carry the shotgun so he didnt have to lift it backwards. He went to reach for the slide but felt his hand tensing severely. He gritted his teeth and clutched the slide, trying to force his arm to rack it back. He watched as it moved slightly then slammed his hand down, letting out a wince. He slid it forward and heard the next slug fill the chamber.
"Lincoln!" Morris shouted, searching for his brother, "Lincoln god damnit!"
"I'm goo…" Lincoln was interrupted by a few bullets ripping through the soil container and plant next to him, eradicating it. Then the sound of gunfire stopped and he heard a metallic click. Lincoln immediately sprung from his cover and raised the shotgun in his good arm. He saw the man and lined up the shot as best he could. The man saw Lincoln and began running, Lincoln drew a bead on him and squeezed the trigger. A loud crack as the barrel erupted and Lincoln controlled the recoil as it sprung back lightly. He watched the man drop as blood sprayed from his side.
"Linco…" Morris began before being interrupted.
"Morris damnit! I got this, handle yours!" Lincoln said as he racked the slide with a groan, he began to search "I think all mine are dead."
"How many?!" Morris shouted from the back, "I've got five dead back here!"
"I got three dead up top," Lincoln said recalling the two men that had been on the ground floor. He dropped to a knee and quickly checked his surroundings. Lincoln saw no one and wondered if those two men had run back towards Morris. He tried to remember what they looked like.
"Morris you got two shirtless muscle heads with gloves on?" Lincoln asked carefully watching and listening. A moment passed and as Lincoln opened his mouth again Morris shouted up.
"I got one!" He said. His words seemed to act as impetus for the other man to attack. Lincoln heard heavy footfalls followed by a loud yelling. He knew Morris wouldnt be able to help him so he spun around as quick as he could with his shotgun in hand. As Lincoln faced his opponent he saw what he was up against. A muscled man had a machete in hand with a dangerous look on his face. He tucked a shoulder into Lincoln's stomach and knocked him back, pressing the shotgun into his ribs and agitating his wounded arm. Lincoln fell back and the man was already above him with his machete raised. Lincoln held his shotgun above his face and watched as the man brought down the machete. The first attack was a downward slash, easily deterred by the shotgun. The second was a stab that Lincoln had a harder time redirecting. Lincoln swung the shotgun in an effort to knock the point away from his face. His efforts were not in vain but the man made sure to drive the blade down hard. Lincoln had only seconds before he would be impaled by the second attempt. He dropped the shotgun to the side and hoped he was fast enough. He grabbed the muscled man's hands and threw a leg up between his legs. The blade had begun to sink into Lincoln's left pectoral as the man tensed from the pain. Lincoln threw another leg up, then another and the man fell over, dragging the blade through Lincoln's chest over his collar bone. Lincoln regripped the shotgun and rolled onto his stomach to take aim at the big man. The big man had not fallen far so the shot wasnt hard to line up.Lincoln saw the mans machete hand twitch and squeezed the trigger. The mans head was eradicated and turned into a splatter of red on the cement and odd bits of skull and bone on the plants. Lincoln breathed a sigh of relief and watched as Morris came into view, he had blood on his knuckles and was holding a 9mm Beretta in his belt line. His shotgun was slung over his shoulder as he neared his little brother. Lincoln refused his brothers aid as he tried to stand on his own. Lincoln hunched over and threw a thumbs up at Morris which then turned into a middle finger. Morris laughed and patted his brother on the shoulder, which caused him to wince and recoil from the wound.
"Sorry…" Morris said with a coy smile, "We'll get you doctored up, help me get the door."
Allen had been watching the front barn door through his rifle scope for some time, waiting for either his brothers or the farmers to step through the door. He watched with nervous anticipation as he saw the doors begin to slide apart but was calmed at seeing Morris waving into the dark. Morris looked at Lincoln grumbled something about pain. The elder brother moved past his little brother and to table where the men had been snipping their buds. He found a torch and his face turned to a grimace as he approached his brother. Lincoln looked at the torch with a mix of fear and resentment. He knew it had to be done, he couldnt be bleeding if they were going to continue. Lincoln looked at his brother who sparked the torch with his own lighter. Morris put a hand on his brother's shoulder and raised his shoulders. A nod from Lincoln and the burning began. Cauterizing wounds was common in the Hunsucker family, almost symbolic to them. A wound that was burned clean would leave a mark and that would add to their stories. The large 18 wheeler rolled into view and backed up to the doors of the barn. Allen and father climbed out of the cab. Allen greeted his brothers, Victor greeted Lincoln warmly as well as Morris. But there was little time for making nice, the family only had so long before they had to be on the other side of the state to deliver their loot. Within an hour the entire crop had been loaded and secured into the 18 wheeler and the family was on their way away from the scene of the crime. Lincoln had maintained consciousness for some time but in the back of the big rigs cab he succumbed to his exhaustion. It seemed that he was only asleep for a second before he was woken by police sirens. Allen was driving fast and ahead of them was a short bridge with police on the opposite side of it. Lincoln quickly sprung up and prepared for whatever was going to happen.
"Allen damnit, ram them!" Victor shouted as he leaned out of the window and squeezed off a few shots.
"Morris?!" Allen asked with a clear hesitation in his voice.
"Go!" Morris shouted, "Dad's right run through them!"
The 18 wheeler's engine rumbled louder as Allen drove down the pedal and tightened his grip on the wheel. Morris, Victor and Lincoln all braced for the impact of the barricade by holding various objects in the cab. The eighteen wheeler broke through the double lines of police cars with some shaking but only managed a few yards before the road spikes crippled the vehicles tired and rolled into the undercarriage. Allen tried to control the vehicle as it began slowing down, his knuckles white from the force he put on the wheel. A police cruiser sped up to the right side of the cab, Victor aimed his pistol out the window and let off a few shots.
"Fuck!" Victor shouted angrily, "Fuck fuck fuck! How the fuck did they know?"
The cruiser swung wide to avoid the gunfire putting itself out of Victor's range. Allen looked over at the cruiser and saw it swinging back in. He shouted and twisted the wheel towards them knowing their intention. The two vehicles collided for a moment then the smaller police cruiser was overtaken by the weight of the 18 wheeler. It's partially crushed form sunk under the cab and elevated one side of the 18 wheeler. The boys and their father clung to what they could as the vehicle was driven from the road on it's side. The left side of the vehicle slammed into the ground and Lincoln was thrown to the side being struck unconscious by the impact. Lincoln had landed in such a way that it looked as if his neck had been snapped so his brothers and father assumed he had.
"Lincoln!" Victor said as he tried to remove himself from on top of Allen. Allen had been the cushion for his father's fall being that he under him. Victor raised Lincoln's head and let out a short sigh of anger.
"Pops we gotta roll!" Allen said as he kicked out the front windows, "Link is gone!"
Morris and Allen exited the vehicle and began laying down suppressive fire towards the police down the road. Victor checked his son's beltline for the pistol he had been given and took it with him as he fled. The two older brothers fled with their father into the woods and left Lincoln unconscious in the cab of the 18 wheeler. When Lincoln woke up he was in a hospital, handcuffed to the bed with members of the FBI sitting in the room with him. He smiled broadly and felt the pain in his skull. His head was throbbing with anguish and he tasted blood in his mouth. He knew with these agents in the room he was fucked, fucked beyond fucked. They had him and they sure as hell werent going to let him go. He was right to. They got him. He went down with all of it. Murder, theft, drug trafficking, and arson for a fire that had started in the barn. Lincoln was approached by many agencies with multiple deals but knew better than to speak to any one of them. He'd be dead the instant he got inside, and Lincoln knew how horrible these people were at protecting informants. So he was convicted and began serving his time in the Federal Correctional Facility in Edgefield, SC. At first he was hospitalized then after some months of tax funded physical therapy he was in GenPop. Lincoln had already been trained on how to survive in prison thanks to his father so he was quick to adapt. On the inside of prison walls there was a system of gangs and warriors. Lincoln made sure to associate himself with gangs his father knew and approached the only men in the yard he could assume were friendly, the white power movement. They pointed him in the direction of the biker clubs and he found himself happily greeted by some men he knew from his childhood. His own 'uncle' Chuck was in for distributing illegally modified firearms and vehicles. Uncle Chuck had been the man who Allen learned from, he had also taught Lincoln how to hotwire cars. Chuck wasnt an old man but he wasnt young. He had a number of health problems that prevented him from working in the field but few that limited him from being a dangerous man one on one. Chuck happily greeted his 'nephew' and the pair began planning Lincoln's prison career. After the first month Lincoln was moved under protection of the Hells Angels and the Sundowners. Lincoln eventually started taking on hits for the clubs, taking out rivals and pushers on the inside. After four years Lincoln had changed, he'd grown more muscled and more lethal. His hair had grown out and so had his facial hair, looking like a monstrous version of his old self. He'd heard a rumor about a riot and a breakout. The inmates had been planning it for some time, carefully preparing to flee. So Lincoln wrote a letter to his family. He wrote telling his brothers and father to start working on ways to get him out. After another year of planning the riot finally sprung and the family was fully prepared to extract Lincoln. During the riot Lincoln found his way to an exterior fence and lit a small fire with his bedsheets and a book from the commissary. Headlights approached from a distance accompanied by the loud rumble of a diesel powered vehicle. Lincoln fell back and watched as the large vehicle rammed through the fencing of the exterior loading bay. The vehicle slowed to a halt and Lincoln quickly approached it, climbing over the tipped over barbed fence. He put a foot on the side of the vehicle and took the handle, swinging the door open. Inside he spotted his brother Morris aiming a snub nose at him. Lincoln looked at him confused until luckily Morris recognized him.
"Jesus you look like a fuckin mountain man," Morris said as Lincoln climbed in the cab.
"Let's go," Lincoln said. Morris flinched visibly at the sound. Lincoln's voice had become thick and with a dangerous cool to the words, wrapped into a charming southern accent. Morris quickly put the truck into reverse and began fleeing the scene. The brothers savored the moment together then Lincoln noticed the lack of their father.
"Where's he at?" Lincoln asked looking towards Morris.
"Dad's out of the country, we havent heard from him in a little bit." Morris spoke calmly while he handed Lincoln some clothes, "I figured this escape out with some of those guys inside."
"Why didnt you tell me this in the letters?" Lincoln asked as he changed out of his prison oranges.
"Figured we wouldnt crush your spirits on the inside, Allen went to grab him" Morris said playfully. Morris looked at his brother but Lincoln held no response. He was still in the prison mind and Morris understood. The brothers fled and eventually made it to a safe house where Lincoln was forced to stay for some time. In that time he styled himself and changed more so into his normal self. But he never lost the animal he was in prison, in fact it was his job. The Hells Angels had spread word about the work he did inside and it had brought him business from many various illegal enterprises. He ran protection for shipments for some time, working with cartels and mafias from across the east coast. Eventually working protection for high ranking members of these mafias. Moving up quickly, being charismatic and talented he managed to rise to secure a reputation and a name for himself. At the age of 28, Lincoln was hired to defend a shipment of undefined cargo from Korea. Lincoln had no qualms about it and the job had come from his brother Allen who'd spend time in Seoul. The job went down at a dock. Lincoln ran at the side of a cartel boss who was to inspect the crates. When the containers were opened Lincoln saw the cargo was people. Lincoln had some qualms about it but he understood sometimes he had to things. He recalled the time he spent on the inside and remembered how to think. The remainder of his time with the boss went well. They paid the Koreans and Lincoln was paid in turn. Allen called him and said he had a job for him in Seoul, Korea. The boys reunited at the airport and found their way to a local club, one called The BlackLight. Allen had taken a liking to the place due to being greatly appreciated by many of the women. Allen and Lincoln decided they would catch up how their father taught them and got some drinks.
"I got someone I want you to meet," Allen said with a smile, "He's kind of out there. He can hook you up with people out here who will keep you paid. They're called the Kims. Been around for a while and they do things on a big scale. They need hitters like you and drivers like me…"
"Brains like Dad?" Lincoln said sipping a beer as he stared as his brother, "Where's he been hiding at? Morris told me you came out here to get him."
Allen held up a finger and shook it at his brother while he finished off his beer in a manner of gulps. He set down the empty bottle and cleared his throat then spoke. Allen told Lincoln about how their father had been running rampant in Korea for a bit, conning allot of people. Eventually though he'd run out of luck and fled to Russia or elsewhere. Lincoln spent only a year in Korea and eventually returned to the states under a new fake name. But landed himself back in a correctional facility in Grayhaven, Georgia shortly after arriving due to complications with an officer of the law. When the outbreak happened Lincoln was left to rot but fortunately found his way free after a group of people stayed in the prison for a night.
Hair color: Brown/Black
Eye color: Green
Body: Lincoln's body is muscled but marred but a number of imperfections. Lincoln has many scars. One on his left pectoral that drags to his collar bone. One on his left forearm between his radius and ulna. A large scar running down his back, near his spinal cord. Tattoos also decorate parts of his body, most if not all lie under his shirt lines.
