#letale.plot

                             DINNER GALA: PLOT DROP #2

With comms cut and security cameras no longer allies, the Agents are on their own. Thankfully, Agents Fifty-Three and Ten were already together, with a plan to search the rooms above the dinner venue for any suspicious evidence. However, as soon as they hear that communications are down, they set out on another mission: meet the other Agents at the venue to try and figure out what they must do. 

They were all trained Agents and panicking was off the table. Fifty-Three and Ten made their rounds, taking enough time to do a good job while also on the way to meet their fellow Agents. 

Then, Fifty-Three spots something on the carpet beneath their feet. Vivid red stains. A trail of them. After alerting Agent Ten of what she saw, they followed the trail all the way to an emergency exit and ----

       AGENT EIGHTY-FOUR WAS FOUND DEAD, LYING IN HIS OWN POOL OF BLOOD.                                     His throat was cut, he never stood a chance. 

                                                             [ - - - - - - - - - ]

Meanwhile, once they heard the communications were down, Agents Forty-Five, Thirty-Seven and Ninety-Eight call for a “family meeting” and excuse themselves outside to talk about what they should do since their main way of keeping up was now cut. 

Then, out of nowhere they got attacked and they never stood a chance. Ninety-Eight gets knocked out, Forty-Five and Thirty-Seven get taken and no one notices. It was almost as if the attackers knew exactly what the Agents would do in case of mission compromise. 

                            DINNER GALA: PLOT DROP #3

Lights out. The venue goes silent for a second before whispers are the only thing heard in the darkness. No one knows what’s going on. Then, the big screen in the venue turns on and everyone is mesmerised. The guests start clapping, expecting a video to come on that would delight them beyond measure. 

When a dead man shows up on the screen instead, the blood still dripping from his forehead, the terror on the people’s faces could be perceived, even when half lit up. The guests have no idea what was going on, but the Agents recognise the man in the frame: Agent Forty-Five. 

Then, a man, all dressed in black, showing nothing but his eyes begins talking. “Good night, guests. First, I’d like to apologise to the bystanders by the terror that they have witnessed and are about to witness. However, there are some among you that deserve to go through such a night.” It was obvious who he was speaking to. It had become personal. 

                               “You think yourselves as masters of SHADOWS,                                       but you don’t have the monopoly on it.                                                           Checkmate.” 

                              DINNER GALA: PLOT DROP #1

For Agent Sixty-One, staying up in the hotel room where the impromptu Nerve Center had been set up. The complimentary less than good coffee, telly with more than four channels and working security set up… what else could Sixty-One ask for? 

Eighty-Four does not feel the same, however, and he is beginning to grow restless. He is used to easy missions but something tells him this one is just too damn easy. Still, he tried to do what Sixty-One was doing. 

And then, there it is. The flicker on the corner of the screen that Eighty-Four caught by chance, looking at the laptops because everything in the room was so dull. 

For hours they had been looking at the screens. Sixty-One told Eighty-Four to go do a round, check for anything suspicious and just as soon as the door closed behind the Agent, Sixty-One turned on comms to talk to all Agents.

                                           “Agents, keep your eyes open.                                        The mission has been compromised.                                             I repeat, the mission has be—”