Vanessa Lockheart
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
| |
| Vanessa Lockheart | |
| Player: @ KimonoReign | |
| Origin: | Technology |
|---|---|
| Archetype: | Corruptor. Assault Rifle. Kinetics. |
| Threat Level: | 50 |
| Personal Data | |
| Real Name: | Vanessa Lockheart |
| Known Aliases: | (The) Sweetheart |
| Species: | Human |
| Age: | 24 |
| Height: | 5'10" |
| Weight: | 110 |
| Eye Color: | Light Brown |
| Hair Color: | Black/Brown |
| Biographical Data | |
| Nationality: | Asian descent |
| Occupation: | Exotic dancer, Ballistics Engineer for Finder's Keepers; Mercenary |
| Place of Birth: | St. Martial, adopted at birth |
| Base of Operations: | Finders Keepers |
| Marital Status: | Guarding her heart |
| Known Relatives: | Christy Lockheart |
| Known Powers | |
| None | |
| Known Abilities | |
| Can rapidly and efficiently field strip ANY firearm at record speeds, even under duress; excellent tracking skills. | |
| Equipment | |
| ICS M4a1 rifle, KWA Glock 18c (customized just for her), WE-Tech Caspian | |
| (Perma-Kin) | |
~Southern France, 50 miles north of Bayonne~
She shifted her weight to one foot in her crouched position as she kept an eye on the wooded path. A glance to her watch indicated that the chopper should be arriving in any minute...and sure enough, she could hear the soft hum of the rotors in the distance. She gave a quick sigh of relief but it was short-lived. Keeping low to the ground, she did not mistake the vibrations of jeep tires tearing through the dry earth along the path, making a one way track in her direction by the docks.
She looked up into the darkening sky, gritting her teeth as the damned communicator built into her watch was destroyed in the earlier scuffle. She was just grateful she could still receive, knowing well that the tracking device in the watch was being monitored from Keepers Headquarters, and the only indication to them of her whereabouts.
She glanced back into the woods, wishing she knew just how many would break the clearing before the inevitable confrontation. She narrowed her eyes as anger flared: a mole. She was certain of it and damned the communicator again. Reaching into the duffle beside her, she kept an eye on the woods as she felt for an ammunition count; four cartridges left. She checked her glock 18s and shoved two cartridges into the pockets at her belt. The other two quickly made a home in the underside pockets of her forearm guards. She glanced again to her watch as the sounds of humming rotors and roaring jeep tires raced to her location. Beyond the pier was miles and miles of Atlantic ocean. If the plan had gone as briefed, she'd be sitting nonchalantly at the end of the pier while she waited leisurely for her ride. Instead, she had to send out a signal for Plan B as she made her way to this place. In less than 2 minutes, she'd be hanging on a ladder from the chopper, protected by the machine-gun wielder in the chopper to cover her ascent until enough distance allowed her to make a safe climb into the cabin.
~Two Hours Earlier~
"Vous aimez il lent...monsieur?" Vanessa swayed her lithe body, dipping in the middle as she moved gracefully side to side. Wearing a black leather outfit, matching domino and a red wig completed the fantasy for the human-trafficing pimp before her with his shirt opened to reveal a soft chest covered with hair. He nodded with a glassy-eyed look, indulging in another gulp of wine. She was grateful he had started drinking early--it would mean slower reflexes for him and a quicker job for her. She did not doubt his expectations after the end of her strip tease, and for now, it suited her purpose to let him believe he would be that lucky. She smiled coyly in return, continueing her slow dance, smoothing one hand up her knee, over her high-boot clad thigh to the expanse of uncovered creamy skin above her lowcut neckline.
Her belt held a retractable steel knife, hidden in the camouflage of her costume and to add to her luck, they had let her into his suite before he arrived, giving her just enough time to hide a silenced pistol behind the headboard, held loosely with tape to come off easily with a tug by hand. She was counting on bodyguards; the informant had said he always had at least one in his bedroom.
And sure enough, the burly minion stood to the side, guarding the front door into the suite. She never looked at him directly but was always aware of him from the corner of her eye. She danced tirelessly to the music playing loudly from a stereo somewhere in the room, slowly making her way toward the canopied bed where the pimp lay. She kept her eyes on the target as she made her way onto the edge of the bed, giving him a teasing view of her cleavage as she danced on her knees at his feet. She danced a slow erotic crawl over his legs and over his thighs, leaning down to trail her chest along the tops of his thighs as she kept her gaze fixed on his, a playful smile on her lips.
Making her way toward his chest, she straightened and continued beyond his pelvic and soft stomach to straddle his chest. She watched the guard through the soft screen of the canopy to her right; he had not moved, but rather was adjusting his own pants. She raised her arms up slowly to the ceiling and swayed her hips in a small figure-eight as she twirled her hands over her head. She smiled down into his lusty little piggy eyes and concentrated on not gagging at the disgusting vermin that he is, and watched the guard from the corner of her eye. She slowly dropped her hands, smoothing each palm down her chest, over the fabric then tracing along the sides of her trim figure to the tops of her bared thighs.
As she did so, she saw the guard move both his hands to his waistband and re-adjusted his crotch again. It was all the time she needed; in a half second, she simultaneously pulled the hidden blade free as her other hand pressed down onto his chest, holding him in place. The full second ticked as she drew the blade efficiently across the pimp's neck, severing his life before he could draw his last breath. Another second had her on one knee as she swung her hand from behind the headboard. Straightening one leg for stability, she swung the pistol to stop with the guard's face in the view finder. Without hesitation, Vanessa pulled the trigger, sending the bullet free to find the intended spot between the guard's brows. The impact jerked him back, followed by a soft thud as he slid to the floor.
She did not wait to see the bullet implode upon contact, sending shards of shrapnel in all directions of his brain before he crumbled. The music played on as she swung her legs over the bed and hastily went to her duffle. Setting the pistol beside her, she discarded the leather get-up, and donned her change of clothes. Unzipped her boots, she tugged on a pair of sturdy sneakers in its place. She then lifted a secret flap at the bottom of the duffle to reveal her glock 18s and extra ammunition.
Just as she finished putting on gloves and picked up her pistol and duffle, the door jiggled a moment. She didn't wait, but turned toward the window where she had hidden the line to make her exit. The door opened as she climbed onto the window sill, threw her duffle over one shoulder and turned as she jumped out, in time to see one red face poke through the door then down to where the lifeless body blocked the entrance. She zipped down the line to land on her feet on the grass two stories down. They had assumed this wall would prevent intruders from climbing in through the window, but they had not counted on any intruders leaving by it, hence it was unguarded, even in broad daylight.
Stepping back, she lit a cigarette lighter to the bottom of the line and a burst of flames came to life, traveling fast and quick up the way she had come to the waiting explosives inside the window. Dogs started to bark as she dashed for the cover of the woods, followed by the sound of explosions and flames flickering to life as the gunpowder played its role. Under the chaos, she made her way to the designated rendezvous, taking an alternate route than planned...something did not sit right about the timing of discovery and she wasn't going to take the risk. Looking to her watch, she made up her mind to take the longer way to the rendezvous point.
~Present~
Vanessa looked up as the rotors roared overheard. The ladder dropped as two jeeps broke through the clearing, and began to fire shots at the sight of the black unmarked helicopter. She waited until the machine-gun from the cabin began to fire back before leaving her hiding place to make a jump onto the ladder and begin her slow climb up. She gave the hand signal to indicate she was on securely and felt the chopper lift and pull off. A jeep exploded as the machine-gun found the gas tank, firing non-stop as the chopper started to turn towards the open sea. The angle allowed Vanessa to see a survivor hook a bazooka over his shoulder, his head tilted into the scope--and she knew. It was not the helicopter in the view finder...but her.
She glanced down to the rushing water below as the helicopter continued its ascent. They were still within range of the bazooka and the machine-gun operator was preoccupied with the other jeep's occupants. She spared another glance below, giving the chopper another chance to pull out over deeper waters. She looked to the bazooka again and made the decision after seeing the angle was too low, rather than higher. She shouted once to the cabin, ...then let go.
"This is going to hurt." Were her last thoughts before she leaped away from the ladder as the rocket launched towards her. Her eyes on the water surface, she turned her body quickly to dive head first. At the last possible moment, she smacked her armguards together, hard, to activate the emergency flares then brought her arms over her head and braced for the impact.
Too soon, the water surface came up to meet her. As much as she could prepare, the sharp stab of pain that pierced her from hands to shoulders, followed by the jarring pain to her head as she hit the water like a brick gave way to immediate shock. She registered faintly that she was completely submerged in the water by now but could not feel her hands, and her legs would not kick to take her to the surface. She blinked in a slow motion under the cool water, the only mobile function she could perform. She kept her gaze on the soft glow of the light on the other side of the water as she felt her body float a moment, then slowly descend, helplessly...Her heartbeats pounding loudly in her ears.
Flashes of memories assailed her then as her air supply thinned much too rapidly. She smiled, or thought she smiled, but perhaps it was in her head. She thought she cried as her vision began to dim, but if she did, they were lost in the water garden around her. Vanessa mustered up her last ounce of strength, and willed her hand to reach for the surface (although it did not move); her mind was suddenly filled with thoughts of him, and remained on him even as her vision grew dimmer....as her heartbeats grew further apart.
She focused on the low light playing from the surface and his face became blurred as she saw the familiar curve of his smile. He turned to say something, extending his hand out. She made to reach for that hand; his eyes teasing as usual, his lips seemed to say, "Trust me." She attempted to return a skeptical half smile in the watery depths and finally closed her tired eyes, succumbing to the numbing dark. There was no need to struggle, to fight; this was the last.
"..."
The water rushed into her lungs as her soft lips parted with her last exhale.
Moments later, a dark shadow splashed into the water, breaking the stillness of her watery santuary. Spotting the sinking red flares, the rescuer dived after. Vanessa never felt the hand that grabbed hers and enfolded her still and broken body. She neither heard the roar of the rotors, felt the breeze in her face that tousled her wet hair, nor saw the last rays of the sun dip below the horizon as a heavy silence descended like the final curtain inside the cabin. The only sound was that of the rotors as the helicopter sped away over the expanse of water. The operator in the cabin began CPR and administer first aid, the radio communicator blared with staccato directions.
