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The Amateur

Dalriada

Establishing Nation
Joined
Feb 9, 2016
Messages
570
Location
Little Poland
Nick
WelshJaffaCake
Luther Brown had dirty blonde hair and his face would have shown a handsome rugged young man but the years of chain smoking and getting caught up in punch ups throughout his police work turned it into tired old leather. Furthermore looking for someone in his late 40s when he was twenty nine didn't help his appearance either but nevertheless he did carry a boyish charm with him.

He was sitting in The Harbourmaster one of the oldest hotel in the capital and it held the odd title of the only hotel not to be bomb or attack during the country's years of turmoil. It did help that it was partly owned by a brewing company and one of their warehouses was next door. The restaurant was upstairs it was mostly used by the dock managers, the pub downstairs was where the dock workers would avoid their wives.

He was halfway through his steak until he heard a man asking for his name.
"Yes, I want to know where Luther Brown is?" the man asked the manager

"Oh Mr Brown him and his wife are regulars but he isn't with his wife tonight are you a friend? Mr?"

By this time he turned around to see who the man was, the man was in a shirt and tie with his brown hair brushed back and carrying a briefcase “Looks like a bureaucrat, I had enough of them in the station" He thought, he got a menu to try to hide himself.


"Mr Brown I would like to speak to you" The man noticed him and went over to sit at his table. "Great, I wanted to spend the night wallowing in my self-pity, now got to deal with this jackass". He thought

"Hello my name is John Smith.” the man told him and shake his hand. Luther nearly bust out laughing over the clear use of alias.

"What you want?" He asked, he wanted to tell the guy to sod off I am eating.
"Well I work for the government and we have a job for you” Smith replied

"Fuck off not interested" Luther told him bluntly. He was already burnt by them once and he wasn't going to make it the second time.

"Luther, please hear me out over a bottle of red” Smith said, he called a waiter over.
“No need for a bottle, give me pint of Guinness” Lutcher told the waiter, he wasn’t going to listen but he wasn’t going to turn down anything free. Smith put his briefcase on the table and opened it to show Luther a brown file.

“I thought alcohol get your attention, now let me explain situation we are in. I work in the special branch of Security Services. We have a problem, we currently believe that there’s a mole supporting foreign elements “Smith explained

“So what exactly do you expected me to do about it?” Luther asked, he admitted to himself that he was slightly curiosities.

“Well we need an outsider because we can’t be seen investigating them unless we want an angry bear on our hands. Since you had an early retirement from police work, you seemed to be the man” Smith explained by this time the waiter came over with a glass of red and pint of Genies.
Luther drunk some of his pint, It had been two months since had his "early retirement" from police.

“I and so do you know what happened in that police station if you can magically change what happened or stop them rising the price of fags and bronze, I would be interested but it seems you can’t so goodnight” Luther told him, he got his leather wallet out and put twenty punt note on the table and got up.

“How much did it take to pay off your wife?” Smith asked with a smirk. I wasn’t going to let Luther leave.

“Fuck you it’s none of your business.” Luther answered, a sense of rage was building up in him. He wanted to knock Smith’s little smile clean off.
“Luther of course it’s my business, it’s my job to find every little dirty secret within this government. Now sit down, we haven’t finished our talk yet” Smith said by this time his little smirk turned to a cocky smile.

“Fuck you, fuck this shit I need to leave before I beat the shit into you”. Luther started to walk out.

“Luther you won’t want to have these in the public eye?” Smith pulled out a few photos from his pocket and started to wave them in the air. Luther heart sink and he got a lump in his throat then suddenly the rage shot up. He got the steak knife on the table and jab it into Smith stomach. He leant next to him and whispered trying not to cause a scene.

“Give me those photos before I spill your guts on the table.”
Smith simply laughed off the threat, he then pointed to a waiter by a work board polishing cutlery.

“You see him over there he’s one of my and his packing, if you don’t let go of me in next three seconds. He will blow your brains out or I could be bullshitting it is up to you to decide”. Smith said he still had his smile on because he knew Luther won’t call his bluff.
Luther paused for a few seconds, he could not risk calling the bluff also deep down he was itching for a case. He put the steak knife back on the table.

“Will you get rid of those photos” Luther beg

“Why would get rid of your leash? Anyway here’s the file it explains everything you need to know” Smith answered he seemed to have type of sadistic joy of having Luther under his thumb.

Luther took the file and went downstairs to get his jacket, he noticed bunch of dock workers by the bar. He tapped one of them on the shoulder and pointed to Smith coming down the stairs

“See that guy with brown hair, he’s half Ivernish and member of the Unionist Party” Luther told them,the dockworkers got up from their chairs and shouted.

“Get the Gothic Bastard!”
 
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Dalriada

Establishing Nation
Joined
Feb 9, 2016
Messages
570
Location
Little Poland
Nick
WelshJaffaCake
Note on my spelling and grammar, Yeah I know it can be shit it's mixer of Welsh education and dyslexia.

The stories/characters going to be posted in this thread, heddlu or police in English investigations and infighting in the crime families in my country and Luther Brown. Trust me I know it's a mess and I am sort of wishing I didn't plan this RP storyline since it has various factions and people involved.
 
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Dalriada

Establishing Nation
Joined
Feb 9, 2016
Messages
570
Location
Little Poland
Nick
WelshJaffaCake
Caerdydd County, Creigia

DCI Jones was from the Serious Crime Unit and his first job of day was this mess, sixteen died, fifteen already had their bullet holes filled with flies and one burnt out tailor shop with the tailor burnt to crisp outside where he jump out the window. The attack took place in a food market in a heavily Ivernish populated village.Where Ivernish emigrants would buy import goods from their homelands, the air which was usually filled with the smell of fresh baked goods and food but today it was replaced with the smell of burning flesh, the muscle tissue gave off a scent of roast beef and the fat bobbled away like pork belly in a frying pan but one thing was for sure as soon that aroma hit your nose it won't leave you.

"The attack itself was sudden according to witness a black car pulled up and three masked men opened fire then one of them throw a Molotov cocktail after that they used rest of their gun magnetise and left. The gun fire spared suggest that firing was indiscriminate ruling out a hit for now. Only thing I can think of is a xenophobic motive attack so along the lines of BRC..." DCI Jones talk to himself out loud when scanning the scene. The stalls were overturned and mashed fruit & veg were all over the floor.

His investigation was cut short when the Chief arrived, the press went to surround the Heddlu Chief, who were hovering around the line of peacekeepers like vultures looking to get a nice picture of the gory scene that they could slap across the front page.

The press barraged him with various question,
“Can you confirmed this attack is anyway related to the Kidwelly Cat stabbing?”
“Are the attackers still out there?”
“Do you admit that you have failed to protect the Ivernish Community?”

He answered all them with "I can't comment on a ongoing investigation" or "that information will be relived during the press conference"he finally got through to talk to DCI Jones.

"Please tell me that you have something because the Ivernish are complaining to Home secretary who in turn is putting pressure on the City's Commander who's going to give me a bollocking if you don't show me results with this or the stabbing." The Chief told him, his eyes had massive black rings around it.

"Well Sir what I have seen of this and the stabbing, it doesn't fit the profile of the BRC, CG and I would be very shock that CPF would kill in their word their own kind. Only thing linking the two attacks is the nationality of the victims. DCI Jones replied, his unit spent the last week trying find any commonality with the new attacks and historical unsolved cases contributed to the BRC.

“So nothing of use but please tell me one of your team.....” The Chief was talking until he noticed a photographer in corner of his eye going through the peacekeeper’s line to try take a few shots. He took hold of one the peacekeeper's baton and got caught the photographer by his collar.

“Don’t you have any respect, you filthy maggot get back behind the line and stay there unless you want me to break your jaw!” The Chief shouted his spit landing on the photographer’s face, he was small compared to the chief since he was 5ft 8 and the chief was 6’4. He nodded and scamp off behind the line.

“Um can sir I speak honestly with you?” DCI Jones asked
“Go on then” The Chief replied, he tied up his collar

“In my opinion these two attacks are not link, the stabbing most likely a fight gone wrong and this is a messy gang attack. The time we spend chasing shadows, is the time we could be using to catch the real criminals who have done a BRC style type attack to shove their scent” DCI Jones blunt out hoping the Chief won’t give him a back hander by going against the narrative.

“Look I pretty much agree with you but the Commander wants to be hundred certain that this not a BRC attack before we openly say public. Just in case it is true that a copycat group or a new BRC retuned and we all look like a bunch of jack arses”. The Chief told him, after he was finished talking a peacekeeper come up to him and said something about a message then whispered in his ear.

“DCI you are going holiday to see an old friend of mine.” The Chief said sarcastic

“Please tell me you’re not going to say what I think I am going to say” DCI Jones with a lump in his throat.

“You and a DI are going to Dún Brist, What Jones? You said your wife complained about you not having a holiday in three years and you said you wanted to get out the office more.” The Chief said with a smirk across his face.

“That wasn't the place I had in mind sir.” DCI Jones said with a low groan
 
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