10756/A Game of Espionage

A Game of Espionage
Date of Scene:	16 January 2020
Location:	Clinton (Hell's Kitchen), Manhattan
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Tombstone, Black Widow (Belova)

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Tombstone has posed:
Hell's Kitchen is among the worse neighborhoods in Mahatten. The crime and poverty were quite obvious, even during the day. Normally, you would never go to this part of town willingly, but your handlers back in Moscow had other ideas. The Russian govenment has been having trouble with one Suhaim Al-Fassi, a drug lord based in Morrocco. He has been shipping his poison to Russia for years, and the governemnt has always had a hard time catching the shipments. Recently, another operative has received info that one Lonnie Thompson Lincoln, or Tombstone as he is known on the streets has become one of Al-Fassi's most profitable partners, selling his Hashish across NYC. Your mission was simple, find any documentation on how Al-Fassi get's his stuff across the borders, and bring it back to your superiors.

From one of your contacts, you discovered that one of Lincoln's major drug hubs was located in the middle of Hell's Kitchen, in a old meat packing warehouse. That is how you found yourself in Hell's Kitchen, approaching what can only be described as a industrial ghost town, with abandoned warehouses everywhere.

Black Widow (Belova) has posed:
"Bad places." The definition in New York is a far cry from the impoverished cities of Russia, hollowed out by years of kleptocratic bureaucrats and Soviet councils that just didn't give a damn. However ugly Hell's Kitchen pretends to be, it still has miles to go before matching the worst that even Moscow threw at her. To say nothing of the slums in other less fortunate parts of the world, ghettos where money and media never reach. It doesn't pay to stand out here, but then, Yelena knows how to blend in almost anywhere. She has a hoodie, nondescript as it comes, her hands buried deep in the pockets. The hood is up, a necessity against the cold, concealing the darkened smudge of hair almost black. Al-Fassi might have trouble not mistaking her for some export from the Arab diaspora, a mule or a contact from the wrong arrondissement of Paris. She shuffles along in her sneakers, totally forgettable. A meat packing warehouse isn't exactly the hardest of targets to find, but find doesn't mean infiltrate. She presumably has some kind of headphones in, and she wanders around the block, stopping at the forgettable bodega two blocks over to buy a pack of gum and a few hard candies in a roll for whatever reason. The walk gives her a chance to check for anyone tailing her or variations in the neighbourhood, suggesting that the warehouse is watched better than not. Any sort of security system is bound to be of interest, assessed visibly with a practiced eye. She would have checked her messages and any dead drops before being sent out, seeing that GRU hasn't already sent her a schematic. Or the Red Room has other instructions.

Tombstone has posed:
As you got closer to the plant, you would notice gang tags of what looked like a screaming skleton. This was the symbol of Los Abandonados, a Puerto Rican street gang from East Harlem, but have recently made big strides into Hell's Kitchen. It was no secret that the crew was part of Tombstone's drug smuggling umbrella. This meant that they were possibly the ones guarding the warehouse, which could be problematic, mostly due to the gang's reputation for brutal violence.

As yoy arrived near the site of the plant, you would notice a group of Los Abandonados having a conversation in Spanish near the plant's entrance. The plant itself was run-down and looked like it hasn't been used in years, yet it looked like the building still had electricity

Black Widow (Belova) has posed:
Spanish isn't Yelena's best language, but she understands it well enough to get by in a conversation. The gist is often enough. She doesn't make a point of standing out at all while they are busy chatting, the men giving her an indication hopefully of what's up. As long as she can hear and see them with those keenly sharpened senses, their presence gives her a place to triangulate from. Pressed to a wall and presumably lazily listening to whatever tunes are in her ears -- hint, none -- then her path becomes a serpentine route to an adjacent building opposite of where the Abandonados might happen to be. Ideally one with a fire escape she can climb, but the woman isn't choosy.

She can cling to the side of the building as need be, using a combination of suckers on her gloves and electrostatic to hold in place to brick or metal or glass. Climbing two stories up would be the aim there, moving unseen to get to the rooftop and surveil the plant for a top-side entrance. Always best just to drop in, or use a compelling window for entry.

Tombstone has posed:
The Abandonados in the group mostly talked about various gangland achievments. But, what caught your interest was when one of them brought up that a new shipment was coming in tonight and Tombstone sent them directions and how to retrieve the drugs. Once you got to the top of the adjacent building you would see three more armed Abandonados patrolling the three other sides of the outside of the building. But, you would notice that the roof access door is completley unguarded.

Black Widow (Belova) has posed:
Like a hound, some people never look up. Not her problem. Yelena considers the distance to the rooftop after she climbs up the backside of the adjacent building. Once on that roof, the clear view is all she needs. That, and a running jump, her strides light and bounding. Ballet training and sprinting go well together as she launches herself from the edge of the building and at the warehouse.

On impact, her intent is to roll, breaking the force of landing on her feet, carrying her right to the access door.

Tombstone has posed:
You managed to clear the distance to land on the rooof, your roll also succedding. If you were to check the doorm you would find that it is unlocked, but you would hear what sounds like techno music. At the bottom of the stiars you would see a caucasian man wearing sunglasses and a red and gold leather jacket with a snarling Chinese dragon on it. This man was a member of the Sons of the Dragon in Chinatown, and he appeared to be neglicting his watch duty, with his back turned towards you.

Black Widow (Belova) has posed:
Smooth in motion, Yelena remains low to the ground and holds in a decisively splayed position, balanced with her hand barely on the rooftop. What breaks down the profile she presents to any bystander is also useful for feeling the vibrations of air compressors or fans, the music percolating through the slow oscillations of a blade. Her headphones remain; they help to reduce the overall noise. So too her hoodie is pulled off with brusque, quick motions, flipped inside out to reveal the black exterior rather than gray. All the better to hide within. She silently adjusts her bracelets just so, assuring the cuffs aren't in the way. Slinking within through the door, she carefully measures her way down the stairs one by one. Light on her feet, adjusting carefully to the changing illumination becomes less of an issue when she spots her target. No running here.

Far from it. The gliding descent gives her the freedom to approach strategically; in a way that makes wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling back hard, using that lock to apply significant pressure on the jugular and windpipe such that the blood and oxygen to the brain are cut off. She's not a particularly imposing woman, but that's rather the point: From Russia, with no love lost.

Tombstone has posed:
The man lets out a small grunt of surpise, but this is quickly replaced with flailing as the man struggles in your grip. The man suddenly collapses, unconciousness finally setting in. Besides the music, you hear what sounds like a Radio playing in the next room, oddly enough tuned into a talk show.

Black Widow (Belova) has posed:
Yelena doesn't give much room to work with. Flailing is a hazard so she wraps her leg around the man's calf and pulls backwards, more likely to hobble him than let him fall in a crashing noise of a body to the ground. Her hold forces her to bend and ride him to the ground, her knee brought down to the floor, her movements sure and utterly cold with their purpose. She props him up against the wall, then rips the bottom strip of his shirt off to bind his wrists. Another hobble goes for his legs, and the last as a gag in case he wakes up. He might be slobbering around the knot in his mouth, but at least it stifles his ability to talk or to move. So much for the shirt.

After that, she rises up and surveys what lies ahead, gazing to the adjacent chamber. Slinking up to the wall, she listens for the sounds of any movement: someone in a chair, typing away, playing a horribly animated Korean game on their phone. If nothing stands out, then she carefully maneuvers a dull mirror taken from her bracelet to determine if anyone is in there. Old school craft; no need to start pulling down the IR and UV-detection lenses. Not quite yet. If there's anyone occupied, she waits until they are engrossed in that task before setting an ambush.

Tombstone has posed:
As you slide the mirror into the room, you would see a Abandonados sitting on a old, ratty couch listenting to the Radio. Suddenly, the radio starts to static up, garbling the audio. Tee ganger lets out a swear in Spanish and walks up to the radio and starts to bang on it to get it to work.