"God fucking dammit Gavino."
'What the actual fuck?' Groggily she sat up, reaching out blindly for her phone. Spam tapping her screen, the device snapped to life blazing the time and three missed text message in a brightness that was momentarily blinding. It was three in the fucking morning, who the hell was texting her at three in the fucking morning?! 'Oh..' Unlocking the phone, Lexa skimmed the text messages. One from her best friend complaining that she was a stiff now, one she had missed earlier that evening from her mother asking how she liked the new city and finally one from Paragon, only several minutes ago, demanding she wake her ass up.
"What! S'not my fault someone put a mailbox there!"
That right there, might be why. Phone abandoned, she tripped over her own feet and the sheet that was tangled between them. Kicking free took longer than necessary with her flamboyant motions but she was soon running to her desk, flicking on another blinding light by tapping her lamp. Twisting the dial on the old radio, she grinned as the familiar crackling of a silent line met her.
"You could have drove around it, Moron!"
Was Paragon playing some elaborate trick? She had been in Los Santos for a week, her equipment had only gotten set up earlier that day, or well the previous day. Lady luck had to be smiling down upon her if she was already picking up transmissions. A brief wiggle of her mouse had her lock screen popping up, inputting three passwords with a practiced precision she delved into the vortex of the online world.
4RCH4N63L: Paragon.. This has to be you.
P4R460N: Nope... High and alive on your frequency is Los Santos' own Fake AH Crew. Our resident morons with a lucky streak.
"We've got the bloody package, Micoo, as long as we get back alive that's all that matters!"
"DON'T BRING THE COPS HERE! WHADDYA DOING GAVINO!"
P4R460N: Meet DGeoff. AKA: Geoff. Leader, planner, architect.
"DGeoff, calm down! Even he's not stupid enough to dra- I take that back."
P4R460N: Jack. AKA: Jaquelin, the only women anyone's seen hanging around. Seems to be their doc and formal driver, though as you hear, Gavino takes that roll when they are feeling particularly stupid.
"Shall I kill them?"
P4R460N: Vagabon, AKA: Ryan. Their resident psychopath. Though there seems to be a method to his madness. You might say he is their formal weapons expert.
"FUCKING CHRIST, YOU STUPID FUCKING MORON. KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE DAMN ROAD!"
P4R460N: Mogar. AKA: Michael. Seemingly their rager. Known as their enforcer and explosives tech.
"I'm watching the bloody road Micoo! Not my fault people don't know how to drive!"
P4R460N: Gavino. AKA: Gavin. Pilot, Sniper, occasional driver and always a risk.
"Guys.. why? The GPS has asked you to turn three times now."
P4R460N: Monster Truck. AKA Jeremy. He's newer than the others, he seems to be the agent of chaos so far. Occasionally the voice of reason as well.
"I'm taking a shortcut!"
4RCH4N63L: Alright. Leader, Driver/Doc, Weapons, Explosives, Pilot/Sniper and Shit Disturber. Am I missing anyone? Why do I care about these guys?
P4R460N: Because. I brought you to Los Santos. You agreed to the deal, this is your assignment. Study up, I sent you a file to help. It will be good to get your name out there. Oh mighty good Samaritan.
4RCH4N63L: You've got to be kidding me.
P4R460N is offline
4RCH4N63L: FUCKER!
Signing off of the encrypted chat program, she switched over to her hidden mail. The email was waiting for her, tagged on the subject line as 'ASSIGNMENT'. Bot sender, would appear as spam to anyone else. Snapping her finger against the mouse, she huffed and downloaded the attached file. No doubt her mentor and now agent of sorts, had not gone easy on the encrypting. The file was brought up, a password being demanded to access.
Cracking her knuckles, she grunted and locked her screen.
"Not far now boi's"
"That took longer than the actual rou-"
"I don't care as long as we fucking get the-" The faint sound of an explosion cut them off.
"Oops"
"VAGABOND!"
What the fuck was Paragon getting her into? Padding to the kitchen, she dug out some leftovers from her earlier supper, popping them in the microwave for a few minutes to warm up. Considering the time, and the task set before her, she decided on grabbing a Junk Energy from the fridge. Cracking it open to take the first sip of that sweet nectar, she almost groaned at the taste, shaking her head at the strength.
"Damn"
The beeping from her microwave was an instant annoyance. She could still hear the faint chatter from the Fake AH Crew, the words becoming more and more clear the closer she came to her room.
"..successful if you get your ass back here as well."
"That's going to be kind of hard."
Setting down her drinks, she unlocked her computer once more, trying to figure out what was happening. A quick surf through the local traffic cameras had her catching red and blue flashing lights near Market. Her fingers tapped against the keyboard, flipping between screens until she saw the black bike barely making a turn onto Temple Drive. Another tap and she cursed, the LSPD were rounding just along the other side of Temple.
Her fingers curled around the microphone before she could stop herself, compressing the vocal she felt her throat tighten a bit.
"Vagabon, take your first right, LSPD coming at you ahead." Releasing the vocal, she was met with a stony silence. Her eyes never left the screen, and despite her instruction the bike did not turn where she wanted it too. She watched Vagabond jerk his bike into a narrow alleyway when the cruiser rounded a corner.
"Vagabond?" It was DGeoff.
"She was right." The cold response came over the CB and she smirked. She'd take it.
"Who are you?" The brits voice squawked, sounding almost annoyed.
Clearing her throat, Lexa pressed down on the vocal again. "Your Archangel. Vagabond, you ready to shake these morons or are you wanting to go to jail tonight?" Another silence, this time shorter.
"This birds having a laugh!"
"Shut up, Gavino." The Vagabond snapped irritably. "Alright Archangel.. I'm listening."
A few quick taps to the keyboard and she had the street camara working overtime to keep up and plan ahead. "Next left." The bike veered, the LSPD cruiser that had been coming towards him went the opposite way, the lights flashing. "Keep your eye out... take your next left. I'll get you somewhere out of range, you can wait out their interest there." While she created a distraction elsewhere to free him up.
"Sure." The bike took her suggested turn and sped along out of sight. She was already fucking with street lights and train warnings elsewhere to attempt and draw the LSPD towards that comotion. Glancing back to the camera's she found the dark rider again and huffed.
"Right."
The bike turned.
"Third right."
Again.
"Second Left."
She waited, watching the bike slip under the cover of the trees, the dirt pathway would lead pretty far off the road. "No need to go all the way down, just chillax there."
"Yeah. Small dirt road just outside of town. I can't see what's at the other end. Not suspicious." The man groused.
"Me or the LSPD"
"Be careful Vagabond."
"Well this frequency is shot." The angry Jersey tone had her rolling her eyes.
"Or just accept that I can find you no matter the frequency and I am obviously here to help." She snapped, already slightly irritated.
"Oi. Watch it!" The rebuttal came back rather fast and she snickered.
"Back in middle school are we Mogar." She stressed the name and snorted. "I know more about you than you do about me. Tell me again who has to watch it?"
"I can't hear the siren's anymore." The Vagabond cut in before Michael had a chance to reply.
"That's because they are on their way towards the pier. You should be good."
The sound of a bike approaching left her stiffening. Reaching out, she hit the lamp, causing it to turn off, groping around she found the power button on her monitor and the room was plunged into darkness again.
"An abandoned house." Vegabond muttered.
"Yeah. Seemed as good a place as any." She somehow kept her voice calm. The bike seemed to drive in a slow circle, then speed off back down the driveway. She let out a sigh, glad her reaper was under a tarp in the old barn. Things went quiet for a while, she figured they'd all signed off and mourned her amusement for the night, and likely her soon-to-be old job.
"Thanks. Vagabond just returned safely. Archangel. Whoever the fuck you are." DGeoff's gravelly voice filled the static and she grinned.
"Anytime DGeoff. Just call for your Archangel and I will be here to help."
If only she knew what kind of door that opened.