Mercenaries’ Tale – 4.09 Icepick’s Arms Emporium
Icepick’s Arms Emporium was on the other side of the valley, across a suspension bridge, through several winding cobblestone streets that were receiving a fresh coating of snow as the heavens began to spill their contents, and in a cellar under a fish and chip shop aptly named “The Plaice To Be”. Doug, connoisseur of terrible puns, couldn’t help but nod in appreciation as he and Kate climbed down the slippery steps to the Emporium.
Icepick’s presented itself as a hunting supplies shop. The place looked like a hunting lodge; hunting trophies high on the walls above the shelves and the wares ranging from camping supplies to Swiss-army knives to basic hunting rifles. The only thing that looked out of place were the shopkeepers.
One was a slim gentleman, pale to the point of being albino with platinum blonde hair that had been slicked back. He wore an expensive looking plum suit with golden moons embroidered on the lapels. Both ears had a number of glittering studs on them and the left ear had a stretched lobe piercing. He was a man that seemed to glitter, which seemed at odds with the establishment he was running. He positively beamed at the mercs as they entered.
The other was a brunette with a stockier build, a neatly styled beard and thick framed glasses. A the tip of a large tattoo was barely visible under his shirt collar. He wore no jacket but had pinstriped navy trousers, braces, and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He remained silent whilst the blonde did all the talking.
“Ah, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of seeing you two here before. Are you here for sport or protection?”
“Just browsing, thanks,” Kate replied, “I’m not sure if you’ll have what we’re looking for…” she examined a display of pistols, noting the ammo sizes. There didn’t seem to be anything bigger than a 9mm round.
“I may surprise you, what are you after?”
“Do you have any 41 rounds? Or anything a bit more… specialised?”
The shopkeeper observed the bionics Doug was sporting then glanced towards Kate’s gun holsters.
“You’re of a more… professional ilk than the usual clientele I see…” he pressed a button under the counter and all of the display cases rotated in place revealing hidden compartments with a far more deadly assortment of weapons within. The case Kate had been looking at was now filled with desert eagles and laser pistols. The collection of hunting knives Doug had been admiring were now racks of grenades. He whistled to show his appreciation.
“That more to you liking, miss?” the blonde asked.
“…Much, thank you,” came the reply as Kate began to gather up the ammunition she needed for her various guns. The blonde nodded and turned to Doug.
“And for you sir?”
“Well, I got this…” Doug fished out his own weapon, the blonde examining it closely as it came into view.
“Hmmm, a Kleimaster 4XL plasma gun… dodgy sights, probably from an over heating barrel… not known for reliability, the Kleimasters… I’ll give you 50kr for it?”
“What? No, I’m not trying to trade it in! I can’t remember what battery packs they take!” annoyance permeated his voice as Doug remembered just how much he had paid for the gun and that it had been a lot more than 50kr.
“My apologies! Although if you change your mind I could do you a deal on a better gun!” the blonde winked at Doug.
“I wouldn’t, he’s prone to chucking his weapons at people when they run out of ammo! Be a waste!” this came from Kate who was half listening as she shifted through a shelf of shotgun shells.
“Fair enough. I’ll just check if we have the correct packs; they are a specialised fitting and they burn out like a motherfucker if you’ll pardon my Scanian,” he winked once more and began to shift through some draws behind the counter. Needing something to keep himself busy, Doug fell back on small talk.
“How come this place called Ice Pick’s Arms Emporium?” he asked what he could still see of the man.
“I’m Ice Pick, the owner,” the man said over a backdrop of scuffing sounds as he moved boxes around.
“So why are you called ‘Ice Pick’ then?” Doug asked, following a train of thought. Ice Pick briefly stopped his search to reach under the counter at one of the far ends, pulling out a large ice pick and placing it on top of the unit. There was a skull and crossbones engraved into the pick itself, and the handle was varnished and well kept. Ice Pick continued with his task as Doug processed the weapon.
“Ah,” he said in realisation.
“Actually I got the name from when I worked in the City of Light,” the man mused, now searching a cupboard a little further along the counter, “used to work for the Dalminetti Mafia,” he paused to reminisce, a flicker of a smile gracing his features, “got the name from a man called Joe ‘crazy fingers’ Velowski. The man was a demon with revolvers. He used to be able to make the things dance in his hands. He was deadly enough with one, but I once saw him use five in one crazy juggling act!” a laugh escaped Icepick’s throat before the man shrugged and went back to his search.
“Dunno where he is now, but he’s probably moved on from the gangster business now that the Dalminettis have all been wiped out. Ah,” he re-emerged from the cupboard with a box in hand from which he retrieved the battery packs Doug had requested. There were four of them which Icepick spread out for the mercenary’s inspection.
Doug had begun shifting uneasily upon hearing about the Dalminetti Mafia, which he tried to disguise by picking up a pack, turning it around in his hands as if looking for defects. This went unnoticed by Icepick.
“Yeah, I’d like to meet the guys who iced the Dalminettis…” Ice Pick trailed off, before continuing to himself, “…and shake them by the hand. Dalminettis were a bunch of bastards. Glad I got out when I did,”
Doug went to say something but caught Kate frowning at him out of the corner of his eye, suggesting that she didn’t want publicity for slaying the Dalminettis just in case someone else had known the Mafia and was now holding a grudge.
“I fell out with Big Jim Dalminetti after me and Rorik started dating,” he nodded his head towards the other man who gave a curt wave, “Rorik was working for Vladimir Kushkin so it didn’t look great that I – an Old Boy – was shacking up with someone from a rival mafia family. We got the hell outta town before they made a bigger thing out of it. Haven’t looked back since!” the two shopkeepers exchanged warm smiles which prompted Doug to look towards his own companion. Kate didn’t seem to notice, the red head busy calculating the amount of ammo she could carry in her new attire or if she would need to invest in an ammo belt of some description. Perhaps a bag…
“I’m just glad that Joe didn’t book it with the rest of the Dalminettis.” Icepick was continuing, clearly a talkative soul.
“No?” Doug asked absent mindedly.
“Nah. He never went to the gang conferences. That’s what the Dalminettis were doing when they all got done in; they were all on a cruise to go to a gang conference. Anyway, is there anything else?” Kate started placing her purchases on the counter before Doug could find a response, the gunslinger going on to peruse the selection of grenades. She selected five regular grenades, three smoke and a couple of flash. Icepick eyed up the pile of ballistics in front of him.
“That’s quite the selection. I’m starting to think I’m not the only one with an interesting tale…?” he observed.
“Perhaps, but I’m more of the private type,” Kate stated.
“Fair enough. As I can see you’re clearly a connoisseur, I shall give you a ten percent discount on this lot,” he winked at her, flashing a smile so bright it glinted.
“Oh? Thanks!” she was genuinely surprised by the generosity.
“No worries, Miss. Besides, half the stuff you want is the stuff that usually doesn’t sell around here. You’re doing me a favour really,” the man explained.
“May I ask what does?” Kate asked, intrigued. This being Genetix’s town, Icepick’s sales information could very well help inform them about their targets.
“Hmm, I’ve sold a lot of FBG-2022s1 recently. Plus the odd flame thrower,” he shrugged. Kate’s attention was fully on Icepick now, her eyes widening.
“FBGs? Don’t those use 60 calibre rounds?”
“68. The 2019s used 60. I don’t know what those guys at the labs are hunting but I don’t want to find out!”
“They’re a genetics lab, right? You heard much about them?” this was said as casually as Doug could muster as he set about putting the battery packs away. It was Rorik that answered, the other man having walked behind the counter and was in the process of ringing up Doug’s purchases, Icepick dealing with Kate’s.
“We know they like to keep to themselves. Still, stories get out. Stories of strange creatures and odd explosions. The Chief says they just improve plants so Aquarius Springs2 can better farm produce,” shrugged the brunette, his Zhenyan accent thick.
“Who’s the Chief? He run the place?”
“No, the bosses never leave the complex. I hear it’s been forty years since anyone last saw them. The Chief is just nickname we have for a security officer that comes in here regularly. Owns big cabin by logging mill. Seems to think he has the biggest balls on planet, always in here bragging about his hunting exploits and making a jackass out of himself. Swaggering mudak!” a snort rose up from Rorik’s throat. The mercs exchanged a glance, the two sharing the same thought, their next move presenting itself to them. Kate placed her money on the counter top.
“Thank you gentlemen. You’ve been extremely helpful…”
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
Gratin’s senses were open to the world. It was well below freezing, snow beginning to fall as the frigid wind picked up. Gratin snuggled further into the large coat the mistress had helped him pick out – the overly large hood completely covering his face – and focused on the little pinpricks of heat he could “see” far below.
The establishment itself was well insulated, very little heat escaping unless someone opened a door. He could make out the outline of the building against the subzero temperatures. The glass dome was the largest source of heat, it clearly being some manner of green house, the insulation failing to conceal the hot air inside from the mage. It was like a beacon to Gratin; a bright ball of warmth in the desolate, frigid black that surrounded it.
There were people below though, wandering the grounds of Genetix. They were just out of range to gain an accurate read on their mental states but he could pick out their movements. From the way they were moving, Gratin managed to discern that a small group were taking a delivery from a truck into the warehouse complex. The rest were steadily moving parallel to the fence; a pair of guards on each side of the compound inspecting the barrier and generally looking for security breaches. Gratin began to count to himself as they progressed, roughly timing how long it took each group to finish a section. Ten minutes per section, forty for a full rotation. Doug would need to find an obscured section of fence when they breeched and hope it wasn’t spotted straight away…
Gratin became distracted as an owl landed next to him. He had been concentrating so hard on the valley below that he had not noticed the small parliament of owls gathering behind him. There were a dozen of the creatures now with a few more circling overhead. Every so often, one of the flying birds would glide off, across the valley, only to return a few minutes later.
The really unnerving part is that they all seemed to be watching him, their eyes locked on to his frame and staring unblinking at him. Usually with wild animals there would be a touch of concern or caution to their minds when so close to a larger creature but these animals were eerily calm.
Gratin turned his gaze away from the parliament and focused on the bird directly in front of him. It hooted softly at him, tilting its head so that its face was nearly upside-down. Cautiously, Gratin extended a hand towards it. He was further surprised when the owl hopped aboard.
“Very curious…” muttered the Mage as he brought the bird up closer to his face. The animal remained unfazed, merely studying Gratin with its overly large eyes. Gratin absent mindedly gave it a stroke, which the bird seemed to appreciate.
“Very curious indeed…”
1Gifelle Arms and Weapons are particularly proud of their FBG – Fucking Big Gun – range which they claim is the perfect accessory to have when hunting big game, quelling revolutions or generally trying to shoot through armoured vehicles for “totally legit reasons that are not associated with crime, we’re sure”.
2Aquarius Springs are a megacorporation that provides Lusinia with drinking water. They also branched out into the agriculture industry, mass producing most of Lusinia’s fruits and vegetables in their vast, fully automated bio-domes. They are owned by one of the founding families of The City of Light and are still considered a Pillar to this day.
Post by Sam | December 10, 2022 at 12:01 am | The Mercenaries' Tale | No comment
Tags: Animal Sentries, Aquarius Springs, Blaise, Dalminetti Mafia, Doug McCracken, Forest Canyon, Genetix, Gifelle Arms & Weapons, Gratin, Icepick, Icepick's Arms Emporium, Joe Vekowski, Kate O'Donnell, Polaris, Rorik, The Chief, the Mercs, The Pillars, Vladimir Kushkin