![]() ![]() ![]() the words “Libertymen, Chateau De Siene, Vintage K” which to most eyes would look and taste like a very fine bottle of french wine. she could make out the words on the label, and let out a slight gasp at what was truly there. He asks her if she would like some refreshment and flipping a series of toggles near the dashboard, a small compartment opens up in the back of the front seat where a little tray extends holding a bottle of Statesmen whiskey, a bottle of kingsman scotch, and a quaint old bottle of wine with a faded label. The driver chuckles nervously, and tries to reassure her in french that everything is A-ok. This was no ordinary vehicle, and she was already preparing several countermeasures in secret amongst the gear about her person. the third thing whiskey noticed was the density of the vehicle, the thickness of the glass, the feel of the shocks as she sat down in the back seat. he’s very polite as he makes his introductions while hastily retreiving her luggage from the trolly cart and placing it in the trunk of the car. the second thing was the relatively small-ish looking french taxi driver holding a sign with her cover name hastily scribbled in marker. ![]() The first thing that strikes her odd, is the quaint french taxi that looks sort of out of place in the lineup of more modern taxies that lined the outgoing loading zone in front of the airport. the statesmen got good at making things that could bypass a majority of detectors all thanks to Whiskey’s ingenuity.) for this mission Champ issued her travel credentials as “Ginger Monroe, executive VP of marketing and sales for Statesmen, Inc.” She smirks at the nod of who she used to be, and Champs long time obsession with Marrilyn and flips the passport and ID’s closed and into one of the front pockets after passing through the airport customs without a hassle. enough graphite composite blades to take out a couple of squads of bad guys. a pair of distillerey issued cowboy boots with the toe blades, tranquilizer darts, and spur grinders ready to be deployed with the right toe wiggles. her ever present tool kit tucked away discretley about the stylish belt that adorns her suit. (bulletproof, small explosive proof, with enough non ferrous bits n’ bobs hidden about to make her just that little bit extra lethal even on a good day and still bypass a metal detector or x-ray check. She’s dressed in her signature business suit with just that little extra bit of statesman flair as any good agent would wear and ready to begin her mission. Things are definately off the reservation now, and about to get weirder.Īgent Whiskey steps off the Statesman airliner in the evening paris air under the guise of a normal business trip to establish trade negotiations to market Statesman brand beverages to a burgeoning french market for foreign goods. Tequila is imprisoned in a small chateau deep in the heart of french wine country, and about to become the test guinea pig along with the latest iteration of Lancelot. If they succeed it will be the end of the world…again. ![]() their primary target starting with the french president and their sitting parliment, then extending to other nations as their contaminated product makes its way around the world. Things were going well, he was working with the kingsmen to take out a terrorist cell that had set up shop in paris and were planning to launch multiple coordinated attacks against several prestigious vinyards across the nation in the hopes of poisioning several decades worth of desirable vintages with a timed release antigen that would render the world population of wine lovers susciptible to suggestion from anyone in the terror ogranization who took the counter antigen. seems he’s got himself in a bit of a pickle over in France. ![]()
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