The missing weapon shipment had been located and the container had been tracked thanks to the efforts of Artyom and Pavel. It would have led to a celebration within the safe house but this was a mere step to discovering who was responsible for the attack in Heaven. What also helped was the shipment manifesto. Uhlman reported the exact details to Tony and Death himself; however, they seemed too busy with other matters that were related to their investigation. They were satisfied with their findings when their particular safe house would be given priority equipment to deal with their coming problems in the future. Among other details, they were keeping constant surveillance over the shipment at all times.
Now he had to address the people under his command about their situation but not everyone was there. Artyom couldn't be present for understandable reasons and his placement at the Hazbin Hotel was too important to pull him out. Everyone in the safehouse was in the meeting room in their respective seats. "Ladies and gentlemen, I think this has been a successful operation all around. Although it was compromised, the mission could have gotten worse. We're not done with this problem placed upon us but until further information has been achieved, we earned ourselves a break. As of right now, Artyom will remain placed in the Hazbin Hotel and stay vigilant over the imps. Does anybody have any questions?"
"I do," Pavel said with his hand raised, "With the issue of Artyom with the crowd he's in, I think we should establish some form of schedule around him but maintain eyes on him should he get into trouble."
"That is a good point. Unfortunately, our friend of the FBC cannot attend to that issue so this leaves up to a few people. Any volunteers and any excuses?" Now he needed to sort out the available manpower he had available.
Two people sitting on his right turned their heads to him. Valerie opened raised a finger and spoke. "Our vehicles need a bit of an oil change and a few armor upgrades after what happened. Niko says we need some protection for the vehicles in case we get into a firefight like that again."
"I thought it was sufficient as it is?"
The brooding Yugoslavian shook his head. "If you think a burning engine is sufficient then you and I have very different standards, Russian."
"Alright, you've made your point," The man's attitude was unnecessary but Uhlman could not blame him for his upbringing. His gaze fell upon the next available members of the briefing room, "So this leaves us a communist officer, a time-traveling cowboy, and a Ukrainian stalker."
His eyes shifted left as a former survivor of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone produced a cigarette from his pockets and started smoking. "Radio duty, again."
"So it's either Alexander or Morris? Do any of you want to sort this out? Rock-paper-scissors?"
Alexander Morris adjusted his hat before smiling at the former post-apocalypse survivor in the room. "Let me take the shift. Besides, I hear you have taken fancy to a succubus."
"Well, well, well," Pavel's cheeks were red as the leader of the safe house raised an eyebrow at his subordinate, "When is this happening?"
"A couple of days ahead. Just thought I'd give him a favor."
Valerie laughed as her hand reached into her pocket and tossed an unsealed plastic condom in the man's direction. "I think you need this."
"Settle down everyone. We still have work to do." Uhlman reminded them as their moment of levity died with his command.
"Aw, you're such a buzzkill."
"As much as any of us would enjoy mocking one of our own having a date," He raised his arm and glanced at his watch, "Is everyone ready for their assignments?"
Most acknowledged his command of this building, "Yes sir."
"Ladies and gentlemen, you are all dismissed."
All except one had risen from their seats as they exited the briefing room to carry on their duties. He eyed every individual as their chairs remained empty, save for the director of the Federal Bureau of Control. Just for what reason did she have to remain?
"Miss Faden, I thought you were needed elsewhere."
She nodded her head before walking over to the entrance to close the doors. "I am but there are details we need to talk about."
"Sure, go ahead," What did she have in mind? "Is it related to the operation?"
"More than that. I remember some of the transcripts about Artyom and Pavel in the warehouse. They mentioned that the people inside weren't even disguised. There's an implication that the situation could escalate into something else entirely, one that the FBC may not be prepared to handle." It was a surprise that she noticed those details but he shouldn't be given the esoteric nonsense that her organization was created to deal with.
"Quite a troubling thought. Here's hoping it's simple and easy but you and I both know that is rarely the case in our line of work."
Verosika Mayday groggily stepped into her kitchen unannounced. She had grown sober after a long night of partying and making love with the latest crowd. The pop star walked over to the counter on her left and sorted through the cabinets for a bowl, a silver spoon, and edible marshmallow cereal. Then she shifted right to be within reach of the refrigerator before opening the door and snatching a cartoon of milk into her arms. Normally, she would seek out her flasks of beelzejuice; however, the succubus felt no desire to be drunk that morning. It was a good thing Blitzo wasn't here, he would take every opportunity to jeer at her habits.
She turned around and placed all of her belongings on the counter at the center of the room. Then the Hellborn snatched the remote control lying on the counter before looking up to find the flatscreen television placed against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Without question, the succubus directed the control and activated the power button. The window of pitch-darkness flickered to life and returned to the last channel it was on before someone turned it off.
What she saw was an erotic drama channel where porn stars would perform bad terrible roles until the director would intervene and finally demand the actors to get it on with it. This morning was one of the few times that Verosika was not horny enough to watch and satisfy herself. As she poured the cereal box into the bowl, her hand flicked the switch to the next channel to find entertainment interesting around this time. The channel transitioned into one dedicated to cartoons for all ages. On one of few the times in her life, she briefly smiled with joy behind it since the two-dimensional characters beating each other over the head with clubs sparked memories of her upbringing with her adoptive father. Unfortunately, it was too early for the good shows to make their way and so the channel was changed once more to see the news.
Her hand placed down the remote control before focusing her attention on sogging the marshmallows with copious amounts of milk. Once it reached a certain level within the bowl, the young woman looked at the television screen to see the channel's logo appear with '666 News' plastered on the cover. A blonde sinner and her coworker in a gas mask were on the face of the network. The newscasters began with the woman on the left uncomfortably staring at the camera with an unsettling smile. There was a morbid thought about how the stranger lived in life and the reaction of others about the personality behind the mask being worn before the lens. She didn't think too hard about it as the anchorwoman spoke. "On the latest news over the weekend, there was a shooting by an arms market. Police have shown up to investigate the reasons for this but they have yet to comment; however, we do have footage of the shootout taking place."
"Would you look at that," Spoke the sinner on the right side of the screen in an optimistic manner, "They must be practicing for the upcoming target shooting with a two-for-one budget, all looking to make a name for themselves."
The channel switched out of view as it showcased security footage of a crowd mingling in an arms market in an area surrounded by warehouses. It seemed unimpressive until she noticed a glimpse of her hated ex-boyfriend, Blitzo. Verosika gritted her teeth before a spoonful of cereal entered her mouth, grinding the frosted oats and marshmallows. Out from a warehouse came an unexpected sight of seeing the latest employee of I.M.P and the sinner who stole her car. Her heart stopped for a brief moment as she recalled the last encounter with the former.
Soon the newscaster's narration of events was drowned out by her thoughts about Blitzo's worker. The man was incredibly defensive about his workspace; yet, he expressed his deepest regrets that he even harmed her. If there was one aspect about being a succubus, it was that one could understand the difference between a simple lie to one's soul and genuine care from the heart. What could this sinner have in store for her? Relationships with their kind tended to be limited and the selfish desires of the tainted souls get the better of them but maybe there was a chance that it could change. There was no one in her life and it was not like his boss was willing to ask forgiveness for his behavior so it couldn't hurt if she would steal his heart away like a thief in the night. Whoever this man was, he would spice up a bit of her life.
Her phone beeped as she stopped eating and reached into her pocket to see the messages. Sorting past the social media and notifications, there was a text message from her adoptive father. A conversation within the messaging system as she prepared to organize her own response. "Hey, when is your next show?"
"Next month," The young woman entered before following up with a question, "Why do you ask?"
"I wanted to know whether you are ready for the concert. Have you been drinking much?" She loved her protector but there were some issues that he needed to ignore. Verosika was fine when it came to singing.
"It's fine, dad. It won't interfere with the schedule."
His response was a GIF of his metallic arm flipping a golden coin in the air.
She knew what this meant and it was enough to submit to his demands. "Alright, I have been drinking. I also abandoned my time at the clinic."
"Shame," The succubus felt his disappointment, "I know it is tough for you but learn to temper your drinking habit. A bit of concentration helps a lot."
He was right in the end.
"I sent you those coffee beans you like so much. Hope that helps. I'll see you later."
His concerns were helpful and the pop star did not mind it. He was just trying to look out for her future. A small smile was all she could produce knowing how supportive he was from the beginning.
Endless hours spent looking into the briefcase of evidence was a goldmine of information. Supply locations and stockpiles of high-grade military weaponry from the Holy Army were enough to earn a full-scale 'look' into these matters. One by one, Tony went down the rabbit hole to find the truth of the whole attack and the mysterious elimination of officers who knew too much. His efforts did not go unnoticed as his superior provided him with a blank check to search for the root cause of the attack on the supply convoy. It had paid off with an off-the-books site located and immediately being seized by the Department of Purgatory.
Now he sat quietly inside an armored personal carrier, wearing his missed wasteland apparel of reinforced body armor and a dusty trench coat. The men accompanying him were the department's Gendarmerie, a rare elite echelon serving the Archangel of Death. Their body armor, weapons, and equipment were anointed by the Powers. Such souls were rarely deployed unless the circumstances required that they permanently deal with a misplaced sinner or neutralize an entire group of witnesses in the depths of Hell. They were not alone as another APC full of Gendarmes was following their vehicle to its destination.
The vehicle's radio crackled before the leader of the group turned to his right to find the turret commander looking over his shoulder and relaying a message. "Investigators are in place. Be ready for a hot dismount."
Tony reached for the holster on the side of his hip. The button strap was popped out of place as his hands tightly gripped the handle of a revolver among the professional seven Gendarmes.
"Breaching."
Soon the APC's engines growled like an angry mutt intensifying its hatred for the universe before the vehicle shifted forward with absolute haste. For a minute, there was a slight moment of clarity before they rammed into the building. He looked over his shoulder to see the small vision slit of the outside world as the group broke into a garage door. Now was the time to end it all. "Dismount and secure!"
The back of the vehicle dropped the ram and the soldiers within were quick to rise from their seats and rush out. As the garage was secure, Death's secretary stepped out and joined the seven soldiers in his quest to search for the truth. They entered the door on the right side of the room, which brought them into the kitchen. He stepped aside as the Gendarmes broke off into smaller groups and searched through every corner of the house. His eyes saw movement across the counter to his right and past the living room, only to witness the second APC arrive and additional soldiers break through the front entrance They scanned the room before eight men proceeded to the stairs on their right and ascended to the second floor.
Tony waited until the shuffling of boots and the hard kicks of doors came to an end. To his surprise, there was no one here who was screaming in terror that the Department of Purgatory had come for them. There was an unnerving feeling that he may have missed his opportunity or his information had led him to a dead end but he kept that thought at the back of his mind. Everyone was capable of making mistakes and leaving behind clues, even the blessed Saved were not infallible.
A Gendarme upstairs shouted. "Clear."
Then a pair of footsteps ran down the staircase and approached the man waiting in the kitchen. He had a manila folder in hand with a thick collection of papers.
"The whole house is empty but our guys found something in the last room," His face was hidden behind a pair of goggles and a balaclava mask but his tone seemed hopeful despite the lack of resistance, "I think you may find this interesting."
He gave an approving nod before taking a seat by the kitchen table. "Thank you, Sergeant Garrick. Secure the perimeter and do not leave a single corner undisturbed. Every scrap of paper helps."
"Understood, sir."
The Gendarme walked away as orders were shouted and the elite ranks of the department overturned shelves or ripped out cabinets everywhere they went. Meanwhile, Tony opened the file to see what it contained. More information for him to siphon through over the next few days but it was better to sort it out while he had the time. There were more locations; however, there were memos about preparations for an upcoming operation involving Hell itself. Who was involved was a question in of itself; yet, his stomach seemed to churn whenever he continued his intelligence gathering.
This was no mere operation akin to the yearly exterminator incursions. Instead, these were all war plans being developed for a methodical decapitation strike on the denizens of Hell. Lists of important overlords and nobles were labeled as key targets to terminate any form of resistance. Sinners and Hellborn alike would be given no mercy once this plan was enacted with the hope of gathering political support in the Council of Archangels to join the perpetrators. He flipped through detailed paragraphs for a war that would surpass all wars but then he noticed several photographs that were clipped to some of the pages. All of whom involved the owner of I.M.P being the catalyst for what was to come given his ability to walk between the mortal realm and Hell itself. Blitzo and his fellow assassins would be used as scapegoats to justify this war due to their connections with a Goetia nobleman.
His work was cut out for him. "Holy shit… things are escalating."
He heard a commotion from upstairs as two Gendarmes were carrying a board down the steps. "Careful, we don't want to break it."
"What are you guys doing?" He wondered as he rose from his seat and approached the men by the stairs, "Did you find anything interesting?"
"This is one of them. Here's a board full of threads that you might want to take a look at." Stated the one holding the bottom board.
Tony stole a glance from the board to find photographs pinned and threads connecting each one together in some shape or form. Yet, he recognized the faces of I.M.P on the left and their Goetia associate being connected by a single thread. Then the line reached out to the ruler of Hell and the fallen Archangel. Two words were labeled underneath his official photograph for the public, 'Kill him.'
Azreal needed to know what and the department had to be ready for what would be their greatest situation.
The weapons were clean and there was no contract on standby. So all the employees of I.M.P could do was merely take the time to relax and enjoy their time together. Artyom sorted through the refrigerator for a paper plate wrapped in aluminum foil. He did not know why but he seemed to notice that Mrs. Mayberry was eager to cook him meals for work. It was not exactly a bad thing as he appreciated good food but the former stalker felt there was a deeper reason for her to provide for him.
He closed the fridge with his food in hand as he entered the lounge part of the office to see Moxxie sitting on the couch fiddling with the guitar strings. Merely seeing that instrument brought back fond memories of when he was alive. His skill had not waned but his existence in the afterlife had yet given him the opportunity to try again. The Russian sat on the couch across from the imp as he unwrapped his food on the coffee table between them. "Are you practicing?"
"Yeah, I've been trying to work on a love song for my wife," He answered, "When I am not busy or Blitz isn't breathing down my neck, I do it to pass the time. Do you play?"
"It's been a long time since I played some strings. I don't know if I've grown rusty or not." It was that uncertainty that concerned him but Artyom did not wish to spoil the moment. Much to his surprise, he saw his colleague present his instrument.
"You sure?"
The imp smiled and nodded his head. "It's nice to have someone who appreciates music. Do you have a good song to play?"
"I do," He remembered a time in the Order when young men had returned from their missions on the surface of Moscow, only to learn about how much had changed since they left. It would be depressing one at that; however, there was a doubt that Moxxie would understand his language, "If you would?"
The guitar was passed over the table and into the hands of the former post-apocalypse stalker. A moment passed so Artyom could clear his thoughts. Then his fingers slowly reached for the strings.
Chistyj zvon bokalov i rodnye lica,
My zdes' sobralisja, chtob poveselit'sja.
Vspomnim-ka druzhishhe, kak nam trudno bylo,
Kak tebja devchonka bystro pozabyla.
Za chto my p'em, za chto my p'jom,
Da ne za prazdnichnym stolom,
Za to, chto v zhizni ne sbylos',
Za zapah devich'ih volos,
Za te mesta, gde nebo krysha,
Za telegrammu: "Zamuzh vyshla",
Za marsh-brosok, gluhie stony,
I za armejskie pogony.
Vspomnim, kak ty prygal v ramku samoleta,
Kak bezhal na marshe, proklinaja chto-to,
Vspomnim, kak my zhili sutkami v bolotah,
Tak davajte zh vyp'em za parnej, chto v stropah.
Za chto my p'em, za chto my p'jom,
Da ne za prazdnichnym stolom,
Za to, chto v zhizni ne sbylos',
Za zapah devich'ih volos,
Za te mesta, gde nebo krysha,
Istochnik
Za telegrammu: "Zamuzh vyshla",
Za marsh-brosok, gluhie stony,
I za armejskie pogony.
His fingers stopped playing before looking across the table to see a fellow guitarist widen his eyes. Then he passed the instrument back as the imp let out a small chuckle. "In Satan's name, you're full of surprises."
"Am I?" Humility came into the picture as the Russian returned to unwrapping his plate to find two roast beef sandwiches with a layer of cheese and lettuce, "It doesn't take much to leave an impression."
"What is that supposed to… mean?" Artyom sensed his coworker's sentence trailing off. He stole a glance at his expression and found his blood drained as if a sight had grabbed his attention.
"Moxxie?"
His ears heard the seductive tone of a woman speaking from behind his back; however, he recognize the speaker. "Oh, it certainly does leave an impression. I expected you to be a brute who knows nothing else except guns. Yet, here I am finding a gem that my ex discovered."
The Saved in disguise was about to turn around and look but a soft white glove hand reached out and touched his right shoulder. Then his eyes shifted up to see a Verosika standing up over him in a green blouse and black leggings. It was the succubus he accidentally shot when he was working that day and she was smiling at him.
"Hello there. Are you surprised to see me?"
"Wait a minute?" Moxxie wondered, "Railtracer, how the fuck do you know Verosika Mayday?"
She turned her eyes towards the imp. "I was about to take over this dump you call an office before your coworker shot me."
"Did someone say we have a popstar in our office?" A red blur approached the two couches as Millie rushed over and landed a spot beside Moxxie.
"Yeah, I used to be your boss's ex-girlfriend."
That explained why she was going to make a mess of I.M.P's workspace, she was going to trash it. He truly couldn't care about her relationships with his boss but if she returned, the Saved soul was unsure of what Verosika had in store for him. Artyom looked at the Hellborn sitting across from him, expressing their absolute shock. "Blitz managed to date you? What did you see in him?"
"I ask myself that same question." Her tone was different and filled with a somber attitude behind the succubus' words, "But I am not here for him. I am here for your sinner friend."
"Uh, what exactly do you need me for?" He asked of her, looking at the sexy demon who stole the entire atmosphere of the room before slightly loosening his gas mask so he could take a bit from his sandwich.
"In a need for some fun, and well, you're it."
Verosika jumped over the couch and landed beside him. Then her hands snatched the food out of his and tossed the sandwich onto the unwrapped plate. Artyom was speechless as she slid the gasmask off and revealed his flaming skull to his coworkers. Paralysis took over his soul before she lunged forward and pushed him against the cushion, embracing him with a long passionate kiss. Yet, she took it even further as her tongue slipped into his mouth and caught him by complete surprise. Minutes passed until she pulled her head away, gasping for air and wiping her lips.
"How was that for a kiss?" After what just happened to him, he truly could not find the words to describe the Hellborn's ability for pleasure.
His eyes trailed down and saw the door past her swing open with a kick as Blitz stepped out of his office with a baseball bat in hand. The imp's face was red with anger while the daughter sitting at the desk beside him was expressing a concerned look for her father. "Okay, I got the horny bat, who is currently fucking on my couch?"
"I can answer that," She spun around and directed his full attention onto his supposed boss, "You got someone I need to play with."
"Loona, how did the damn skank come into my office? You know what, don't answer that question. Railtracer, get away from her before I turn you into collateral damage."
"Just like you damaged my heart." What did his boss do to piss her off?
Blitz stomped his way over and stared up at the tall succubus. "Satan's tits, do you ever let that go?"
Life experiences at Exhibition Station have taught him that sometimes former lovers need to get their issues out of their systems. There was no need for him to remain in the room and hear them argue for a whole hour… or two. Artyom clambered out of the couch and snatched his gas mask and meal with him as he sought out the hallway outside the office.
"Hey, where the fuck are you going?" His boss demanded of him, "We need to talk after this."
He looked over his shoulder and saw the Hellborn throughout the entire room staring at him. "I know where this is going and it's going to take a long time. Let me take my lunch break on the roof."
Then he proceeded to leave the others to their own fate as he pressed forward to exit the floor.
A limousine drove through the streets of Pentagram city with ease. Any sinner that knew the overlord's ride would move aside and make way for his vehicle to pass through. It was a reputation that Valentino earned throughout his existence in Hell and any who would dare inconvenience him would feel his wrath. Fortunately, his mood was better than most days but he was currently on a business trip with his partners.
The ride approached a former television station that had been converted into the headquarters for Vox and his gang. Yet, it also served as the ultimate meeting place to conduct business since they could distribute orders to their low-ranking gangs backing them up. As the vehicle slowed down and parked at the front of the entrance, a bear-like sinner in a red tuxedo stepped forward from the main entrance and opened the door. Then the doorman stepped aside and gently bowed his head, "It is good to see you again, . Master Vox and Mistress Velvette are currently in the studio."
"Good to see you, Geo," The overlord stepped out of his limo in his flamboyant dress and handed a folded wad of cash over to him, "Take me to them?"
Once the money was put away, the servant closed the passenger door and brought Valentino inside. A red carpet lay before them, which led to three elevators on the far side of the room. On the right were sinners working as the front desk staff while the left was full of construction crews making renovations to the entrance hall. His counterpart was extravagant but that is what happens when people pay exorbitant fees to be on the best television network in Hell. Then they entered the elevator as the doorman pressed the button on the presidential suite before stepping out.
"I appreciate the good gesture."
The doorman nodded and returned to his job.
Minutes passed as the overlord remembered what he saw in the footage. A white van showed up to pick up a small sinner and trashed the television store in a short time frame. He brought out his lighter and joint, smoking it inside as the smoke built up. As his nerves relaxed, the man recalled their black uniforms before hitching a ride and leaving the scene. These sinners were professionals and that meant they needed to be dealt with immediately before someone caught on and bought out their loyalty.
The elevator dinged as the doors opened and allowed the smoke from his joint to leave the small confined container. He took his first step onto the presidential suite to see his fellow overlords sitting on a couch and taking selfies on the opposite side of the room beside a massive television screen. Once the female sinner flashed the camera light, she turned her head to Valentino and smiled. "Look who has come to visit us! Valentino, great to see you back. Did you find someone nice on the thirteenth floor?"
"No, but I'll pass by and see what models you have in store," He answered before bringing up the subject at hand, "Vox, Velvette, we have some business to discuss."
Beside the pig-tailed overlord was the television head in a business suit was his other partner. "Is it about that store attack you sent me?"
"Yes, I know how much it means to you when you want to shove a twelve-inch screen on every corner and avenue. What do you think?" Valentino asked of him.
The screen Vox had for a face containing two eyes and a mouth had expressed a grim look. "The bitch who owns the store kinda needed a bit of punching; however, we can't take this lying down. I'm willing to send a gang if you two are willing to pitch in."
"Sure, I got some idiots willing to get paid," Velvette adjusted her black shirt with two hearts, "How about you, Val?"
"Is that even a question?" He grinned, knowing their willingness to find the culprit.
Guest: I figured someone would point this out and I am glad you did. Heaven does exist in this crossover but the particular events of nuclear war from Artyom's version of Earth were a bit unique.