As the Socialists carped about in the decadence of their pathetic "revolution" they knew that their every movement was being watched by the adversary they called The Elite, the aristocracy, the enemies of freedom. Photography and sorcery descended upon them to take note of their radical fraternity. And even as Ozkar Veiko dazzled the crowd with his political fervor - the primary rival of current Prime Minister Matthew Van Dresden suspected nothing as a dove perched upon his shoulder and whispered sweet nothingness into his ear.
The Mutiny Alliance agent, Natashjia, is picked up in a stately, unmarked black car just down the street. As the vehicle sifts into the sporadic late night traffic of the uptown districts, Cypress Dreadslay looks over at her questioningly from the back seat of the vehicle.
"So, Natashjia, what news?"
The Angel of Caine smiles blackly as he casts a baneful look over his shoulder, through the window tint back at the Socialist adders' convention. He takes a smooth hit from his cigarette, coldly exhaling out the window as it is rolled down. He wanted to feel the chilling night air awash across his face. Dark blond dreadlocks sift back out of his features under the onslaught of the wind. His black and red Adidas hoodie and his decorative sterling silver chain shows little care for formality, but then Cypress was not a politician. He was a gangster, and a warrior, and he would dress as he pleased.
"Ozkar Veiko is planning a major rally against the Nationalist party this Sunday. All of his Leftist wolfpacks are going to be there. If he succeeds in getting the mainstream public behind him, then he will win his party's nomination and could threaten Van Dresden's re-election. I need you to get to him before he gets to us. Can you do it?"
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