Excerpt: Apollo Cities Brigade Rampage

Travis Bradmon, followed by his escort Luna, entered Capricornus with little if any fanfair. There wasn't a large party waiting for them, not even a handful of people. The plush surrounding and rich atire pulled at Bradmon's hard wired prison sensabilities a bit as soon as he took a single step. He felt as if he definately didn't belong here at all. He passed the bar, the parlor, and finaly found his querey standing with his back to them, looking out the huge full wall sized glass window with a view of the bay and it's high reaching rocky cliffs. A plume of thick grey smoke rose from above the man as he turned around exhaling smoke from a thick black cigar.

Luna didn't stop near Bradmon, her charge for the last twelve hours, but continued on to stand next to the man with the Cigar. Looking at thim with a mixture of lust and hatered she waited for the eventual kiss and grope followed by a new set of instructions that she attended too imediatly taking off for the other side of the suite.
"You know who I am?"
"I'm affraid I don't, I've been...out of..." Bradmon was cut off.
"Stella here says a man like you could be a benefit to my organization. Is that true?" The man with the cigar interupted.

Bradmon made a mental note, the man with the cigar called his escort Luna by another name: Stella. Stella Luna Like the bat.

"If your planning on killing a few hundred people, then yes sir I think I can." Bradmon stated with ease unbuttoning his jacket. He didn't like being that covered up in a situtation like this where he didn't know any of the players or what his cut of the action would be.
"What if I wanted you to kill just one person Bradmon? Could you use your powers to do that? Could you focus enough for that?" The man squashed out his cigar and downed a full three fingers of amber liquid from the glass in his hand.
"Absolutely. I'll simply need more..."
"More of what? More money?" The man with the cigar arched his eyebrows at the thought of a price negotiation, opened the double glass doors, and went out onto the balcony that overlooked the technilogical marvel that was Apollo City. Bradmon followed with Luan watching the two of them closely at the bar.
"More of everything. Space, time, money, and people." Bradmon would be dammed if he wasn't going to bring some back up on an assignment with this mysterous fucker. Finally outside for the first time this evening Bradmon started to feel a little better (almost as if the mystery man knew it), he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit up without asking if he could.

Bradmon was surprised that he could actually see people moving around down on the street, but there they were beneathe him, doing the things that people do in the evenings when they weren't busy getting paid to kill. He couldn't remember what it was he would be doing on a "regular" night like this before he chose this life. It didin't matter though. The two men exhaled in unision, each knowing exactly what was on the others mind.

"Since the storm, and even before that depending on who you talk too, everyone has the genetic material to become a psion within them. What I do," Bradmon awnswered his probable future employers question before the man had the chance to even ask it. "is implant a psionic comand that forces that individual's body to gather up their psionic energy and pass it to the next person they touch all the time building to it's final result which is usually an explosion."
"What kind of explosion?" Cigar man asked, intrigued.
"It's hard to explain. It's both standard and unique depending on how you look at it. To a bomb tech it would seem as if a unique explosive was used, something they've never experienced before and they'll get a bunch of false positives when they begin testing things."
"So it's traceable?" Cigar man didn't like the thought of that.
"No, not with a lab full of scientists. Things don't actually "Blow Up" with an explosion by me, its more like they "wear out" and are then unusable and since the people involved in the psi-chain are always different the explosion never has the same traceable elements." Bradmon smiled, he'd never failed to sell his handywork to the highest bidder and he was feeling more and more confident about this particular sale each passing moment.
"And it continues, the process repeating it self as effected person after effected person touches another psion all the while the psionic charge is building as it travels from body to body?" Luna asked, as she entered the balcony with two drinks, a scotch for the man with the cigar and a bottle of Hammerhead beer for Bradmon who was surprised that his beautiful "arm candy" looking escort knew anything about it at all.
Luna knew more about Bradmon's powers and how he used them than some reporters and police officers would give their left arm to know.
"Exactly." Bradmon winked at Luna, tipping his beer bottle toward the man with the cigar before taking a long pull off the brown long neck bottle.
"How many people do you need for an explosion of merrit?" Cigar asked, downing his three fingers again in one shot.
"It depends on how much psionic energy each person in the chain posses as they get the charge passed through them but usually I direct it through one hundred people before I even consider delivering the payload." Bradmon smiled, drawing hard on what remained of his cigarette.
"And you can still control it by that point?" Luna hung on the cigar mans arm. The quiet reserved escort Bradmon had experienced for the last day or so now fading behind the lively woman of the night which was an obvious skill.
"With enough time and information I can get the charge to explode when it's passed off to a single individual, the right individual." Bradmon flicked his cigarette off the balcony and finished his beer.
"Ah, and now's your chance to test it for me then." Cigar stated, not asking.