I joined the CIA soon after the assassination of Osama bin Laden. I worked my way through the National Clandestine Service undergraduate internship program. I was 25 by the time I made rank as officer as part of the Counterterrorism Center under Deputy Director Jared Walsh. Before I died, after years of being an officer and about five months before passing, Arriving in hell, I was stationed in a rural settlement of Russia called Tura. I was posing as a courier, Polina Sokolov, for the Kindex Service Express, a local courier service. I was making a scheduled delivery at the Department of Archives. Little did the settlement nor the employees of the Department of Archives know that a secretive meeting was taking place inside. The Administration Directorate of the Ministry of Defense, Maxim Fedorov, was believed to be in possession of classified documents, with specific coordinates marking locations of several hidden weapons depots spread all over the Samoyed tundra. He was selling these secrets to the highest bidder, which turned out to be a high-ranking member of the Mushtab militia of Bahrain, Eritro Marhoun. My assignment was to photograph the exchange. I was partnered with another CIA operative during this assignment, also stationed in Tora, intelligence analyst Bradley Taft.
SPEAKER_06:Up a little bit higher and zoom in. Jillian is hiding in an air duct within the building of the Department of Archives. She operates a miniature camera and makes the adjustments.
SPEAKER_04:Perfect.
UNKNOWN:Hold.
SPEAKER_06:There are mumbled pleasantries dispensed between the two parties of this secretive meeting. A few minutes later, indicated by the video feed being monitored by analyst Taft, the documents are exchanged.
SPEAKER_01:We got it. Get out of there.
SPEAKER_06:Jillian operates a jeep at a high rate of speed towards the Gostinitsia server, a small bed and breakfast in the rural town of Tura. Jillian enters the room quickly and locks the door behind her. Intelligence analyst Bradley Taft is already there, waiting. Have something for me, Paulina? Jillian reaches into the backpack and pulls out the miniature camera. Here you go. Bradley turns to a small metal case placed on a dresser drawer, his back facing Jillian, as he presses the camera into a pre-shaped compartment. The mini-camera fits snugly into the case. Bradley closes the secured case and types in a code locking it. Jillian walks to a window and pulls the curtain, taking a peek outside to ensure all is quiet. The January winter is icy cold, but calm. Jillian feels time slow down. Adrenaline floods her body as she hears a combat knife being pulled from its sheath behind her. She instinctively rips the curtain from the rod and wraps it around the combat knife. Analyst Taff twists the knife and the blade tears through the curtain. She kicks Bradley in the abdomen, and he falls backwards, ripping the curtain in half. What the fuck are you doing? This isn't the part where I divulge my grand plan, Officer Burkett. It's pretty simple, really. Money talks. The analyst swings the knife in Jillian's direction. She deflects and attempts to swim. Taft loses his grasp on the weapon, flinging the knife into the air. Sidekick to Jillian's legs, swiping them from underneath her. Losing her balance, she falls backwards, landing hard against the room's floor. Jillian stares at the ceiling as the knife comes bearing down on her. She turns her head, evading a lethal blow, but the knife digs a gash into her right cheek before bouncing across the floor. What did you do? Analyst Taft doesn't respond, but gunfire does. As bullets rain down inside the room, Bradley dives into a small bathroom. Glass from the windows explodes and shatters as gunmen outside the room fire a barrage of bullets. Julie lifts the mattress off the bed and uses it for cover. A television screen shatters. Wooden dining room chairs splinter. The cheap wallpaper lining the walls is perforated with bullet holes. Portions of the mattress erupt into plumes of fabric as bullets strike. The gunfire abruptly stops as the gunmen reload. Bradley uses the reprieve as a chance to escape. Jillian grabs the knife and springs up from the floor, restraining Bradley. The sharp blade just inches from his jugular.
SPEAKER_02:Is there another signal? Go
SPEAKER_06:fuck yourself. Jillian applies stronger pressure, digging the knife deeper into his neck.
SPEAKER_02:Try again. Three flips of the switch
SPEAKER_06:means you're
SPEAKER_02:dead. Do it.
SPEAKER_06:How
SPEAKER_02:many gunmen outside? Four or five. I count two. Well, what are you waiting for? For them to finish reloading. Oh, shit!
SPEAKER_06:Jillian bursts through the door using Riley Taft as a shield. The two gunmen open fire, riddling the analyst with bullet holes. Jillian releases Taft, sidestepping as his body collapses, flinging the knife towards the closest gunman. The knife rapidly spins through the air until the blade sinks into the gunman's forehead. He shudders and then collapses to the floor. The second gunman near the entrance of the stairway is momentarily shaken. He fumbles his reload Regains composure as his muscle memory kicks in, slaps the magazine in place, racks the weapon, aims, and fires. Jillian has taken advantage of this and leaps forward, avoiding being struck as the doorway is riddled with bullets. Jillian somersaults across the hallway and grabs the machine gun off the floor. She squeezes the trigger and sweeps the load, shattering the second gunman's knees. He plummets to the floor, screaming in agony. Jillian bursts through the exit of the stairway, the metal case in hand, racing down the stairs. The right side of her face is bleeding profusely and throbbing, but she ignores the pain, focusing instead on making it to the extraction point in one piece.
SPEAKER_02:We had a boat chartered at a dock off the Tunguska River. I was about a half mile away. I made it to the first floor from the stairway, hopped a fence and began making my way down an alleyway. I started slowly, quietly at first, but... Panic and desperation got the better of me. By the time I made it halfway down the alley, I was sprinting. Just before I was about to round the corner, the shot rang out. I never got a look at the sniper. Didn't even really hear the shot or feel it hit me. I saw a flash of white. I stumbled, and then... Next I see you, sitting in that ugly room. I'm...
SPEAKER_06:I'm sorry, Jillian, that is... That's an awful way to go.
SPEAKER_02:Your boss said the memories would come when I least expect it. He's... not my
SPEAKER_06:boss.
SPEAKER_02:I'm just glad to remember it. It's shocking enough that death wasn't the end, that there was something else. For a split second I thought, maybe there is hope. And then you realize, you're one of the bad ones. I served my country and yet, I wound up here. You...
SPEAKER_06:Deserved better. I don't say that lightly.
SPEAKER_02:So which sin led me here? Shit. I'm going to be late to the auto shop.
SPEAKER_06:I should get going too. Going to meet with Leo at the pond before work. Meet at the high water later? An actual date? I guess it is, yes. Although the high water isn't really the most romantic setting. We're lacking fine dining here, but I heard there is a French cuisine restaurant opening next month. But yes, it's a date. On the outskirts of Dante, Leo has arrived at the fish pond where he plans to meet with Sebastian, who has some information to share on his death details report. As he awaits for his caseworker, Maximilian, the eternally tortured and vulnerable man, resurfaces.
SPEAKER_04:Leo! What a pleasant surprise.
SPEAKER_06:No boat this time? Oh, sorry, Max. I was meeting someone here. I don't have any chocolate on me. Beggars can't be choosers. I must say, Leo, although I don't know you that well, you seem anxious. I'm supposed to meet my caseworker here. He has some sensitive information he wanted to share with me. I suppose I'm just ready for this chapter to be over and to get some answers. Has anyone stopped by? No, no one today, but I have heard voices. Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha. But seriously, if I see or hear anything, you'll be the first to know. Thanks, Max. Hey, if you could do me another favor. If Sebastian stops by, let him know I waited, but I have to get back to the ORA. Ah, Sebastian. Yes, I remember him. Good lad. A bit uptight, but a good lad. Exactly. Uptight, but misses his own meeting? Paranoia? No, actually, I don't think so. If he shows up, I'll let him know you were here. Better hurry. Looks like a storm is coming. Later that night, in the furthest reaches of hell, miles away from the city of Dante, high beams from a black sedan carve narrow swaths of luminescence through the thick blanket of night. The sedan follows a dirt path towards the mouth of an enormous cave. Two men standing below the opening are revealed through the bright beams of the headlights as the car pulls closer. The marksman and the pig stand side by side, awaiting arrival of a third. The sedan parks within feet of the cave. Satan's henchman, the pig, approaches the car as the marksman never breaks his ghostly gaze from the passenger who sits inside. The pig knocks on the driver's window, and the window lowers. Stay in the car. The pig walks to the back of the sedan, opens the rear door, and waits for the passenger to exit. A fashionable pair of Italian leather loafers slink out of the car, followed by a waft of cigarette smoke. Satan himself has arrived. Okay, Piggy, I got your message. Why am I here? Please, follow me. Satan and the pig approach the marksman, who still stands at the mouth of the cave, his long coat waving in a strengthening breeze. This is... We can dispense with the introductions. You are a mercenary and a killer for hire. The one known as the marksman. The marksman simply tips his hat.
SPEAKER_05:Hmm,
SPEAKER_06:a man of few words, I see. My work
SPEAKER_04:speaks for itself. Sorry. Those ping-pong balls you call eyes make it hard to know where you're looking. Trust me. I see everything. Okay. Well, you two are about as much fun as a potluck at a funeral parlor. Piggy, why am I here? You asked me to trace the source of the silver ring. We were sent it to Detective Braun. The signal points to somewhere inside the cave. Well, I haven't done much splunking lately, Piggy. What would you expect me to do with this information? Think about it, sir. Outside of a few places that only you and I know about, a transmission like that could only have come from the O.R.A. Okay. Sir, someone inside not only has He has the capability, but the knowledge and foresight, to send the precise consecrated artifact needed to defeat the demon short, however much of a fraud he turned out to be. It's funny you use that word. This cave. The Malibouge. Used to be called just that. Fraud. The eighth circle of hell. I don't think that. is a coincidence either, sir. Someone is sending a message. When I interrogated George at the ORA, he said an ancient evil had awakened. Like I was supposed to know what that meant. What the fuck here is an ancient or evil? Anyway, good work, piggy. Now, that leaves you. Why are you here? This is a twixt you and him. I am at sea on this one. You're right. Let your work do the talking from here on out. Piggy, care to translate? We need eyes in the cave, sir. With his skill set, I figured he'd be the right man for the job. At a price, of course. You've always been handsomely compensated in the past. Although how you spend it out in the desert, I'll never know. Banishment comes with its own price. Wouldn't you say so? There is a condition to consider at this point, sir. Condition? I'll say it plain. Remove my banishment. Let me roam freely again. And I'll do this thing that needs doing.
SPEAKER_06:Hmm. I half expected a tumbleweed to roll by.
SPEAKER_04:Do we have a deal? Done. But take note, Sicarius. Things have changed since the last time you set foot in Dante. Despite your outdated attire, this is no longer the Wild West. So Piggy, this begs the question, why aren't you running Cave Recon? This is right up your alley. We have another problem that we need to attend to. Well, it's good to know we didn't drive all the way out here for nothing. Back in Dante, an onboarding specialist has obtained some... information. And the hits just keep on coming. Okay, I have an idea. Pig, you scope out the cave. Uncover anything that seems... awry. To my friend of the chaps... You go to Dante. Keep your cue balls on this onboarding specialist. Observe and report. For now. This will give you a chance to enjoy your newly bought freedom and get the lay of the
SPEAKER_06:land. Understood. The marksman tips his hat again. The information you need is in here.
SPEAKER_04:Now, if that concludes our business... I have the grand opening of a house of ill repute to attend. Show my face, amongst other things.
SPEAKER_06:Satan strides back to the black sedan, strolling through a clouded wave of smoke from a freshly lit cigarette. The driver is already standing at the rear and opens the passenger door. Once the car is barely visible, drowned out by dust and the darkness, the pig turns to the marksman and asks for some assurance. This is surveillance for the time being.
SPEAKER_04:You got that straight. Pull in your horn, swine. Even if your face weren't as ugly as a mud fence, this meeting is over, and I'm done
SPEAKER_06:looking at it. The marksman steps away, sits on his motorcycle, and rides off into the darkness. The pig turns to face the cave and enters. Father Marwood is tidying up his rectory at the Chapel of the Holy King of Central Boston when there is a knock at the door. He opens to find Bishop Barlow standing rigid. His expression is one of disappointment. Your Excellency. Father Marwood, would you come with me, please? I just brewed some tea. May I offer you some or some coffee? Father Marwood, come with me now. May I inquire as to why? Archbishop Macaluso requests your presence. The Archbishop is here. Yes. Follow me. Father Marwood enters an expansive office within the church as Bishop Barlow announces their arrival. Archbishop Macaluso is sitting behind a desk. As Father Marwood approaches the desk, the Archbishop opens a drawer and produces Father Marwood's cell phone. Father Marwood, do you recognize this device? Yes, Your Grace. That is mine. You betray yourself, Father Marwood. This is property of the Archdiocese, and while we don't strictly prohibit the use of smartphones, we do expect all data and content to be reported and disclosed. I had no intention of suppressing the- No? The phone was found underneath your mattress. I'm surprised that you didn't go to such lengths to also change the passcode. Your Grace, I was only biding my time, trying to process what I had witnessed so I could identify the best way to report the revelatory nature of the findings. Revelatory? Yes, Your Grace. The content contained within the phone. The images. It's irrefutable proof. Proof, Father Marwood? It's proof
SPEAKER_05:of the Almighty, of God's good work.
SPEAKER_06:Father Marwood, this would seem to indicate that you didn't until this very moment have this belief. You needed proof? Father, this is what we refer to as faith. Have you watched the footage, Your Grace? Father Marwood, how dare you? What I watched was nothing more than some video trickery. I saw no proof. The purpose of this meeting is to bring to light your actions as of late. To demonstrate that you haven't been, in fact, biding your time. You have, in actuality, been spreading rumors to just about anyone within the church who will listen. I have several reports from members of the clergy of conduct unbecoming, actions that are at the very least inappropriate, but to a more severe degree, actions in opposition to the Archdiocese and the Vatican. These revelatory findings are not proof. They are heresy. No! Father Marwood, it has been decided that you, with an immediate effect, have been excommunicated. No!
SPEAKER_04:Bishop Barlow.
SPEAKER_06:It's not heresy. It's not fake. It's real. God is real. Don't you see what this means? Everything you've been teaching, everything we believe has been proven. I will show the world. Leo makes his way to the first floor of the ORA after completing his latest demon hunt. He steps into the Devil's Den, which is the common area of the station house where most demon hunters congregate, brew coffee, have assigned desks with antiquated computers, perform administrative duties, and await their next assignment. Captain Mangut has her own office, but often prefers managing from the Devil's Den. This evening is no different. She's discussing some matter of apparent importance with Willie Topaz when Leo approaches.
SPEAKER_03:Leo, welcome back.
SPEAKER_06:Sorry, Cap, I didn't want to interrupt.
SPEAKER_03:Oh, not at all, not at all. That was... well, I had no idea someone could drool from that part of the body.
SPEAKER_06:It was a... How the hell are you, Leo? Willie! The two demon hunters shake hands, having not been in each other's presence since the culmination of the Philip Weston case. I don't remember if I said it, Willie, but thank you. Those were some stellar driving skills. Oh, that was nothing. If we ever have a need to drive through a ring of fire, I'm your guy. I always prefer to do my own stunts.
SPEAKER_03:Leo, that was some solid hunting. And after six straight cases, you've earned the right for some R&R. Take some time off. That goes for you too, Willie.
SPEAKER_04:Thanks, Cap.
SPEAKER_06:I'll take it. What do you say, Willie? I'm pretty sure I owe you a drink for saving my ass. I'm pretty sure you do too. Been to the high water saloon yet? Is it really called that? The big man loves his puns.
SPEAKER_03:Okay, you two. Get out of here. If I see June, I'll send her your way. Yes, sir. Oh, Cap, any messages for me? Nope,
SPEAKER_06:nothing. Okay, Leo, let's bounce. Did you change your clothes? Oh, Leo, how do I
SPEAKER_04:explain it to the uninitiated? It's one thing if Leo Braun decides to go to a bar, have a drink. But it's another thing entirely when you're
SPEAKER_06:Willie Topaz. Black boots with spurs step onto the paved streets of Dante at night. A well-tended motorcycle hums close by. The marksman takes in the sights and sounds of this new place. He can't measure in time when he was here last. He manages an almost imperceptible smile. Having lived in the desolation of the abominable sands for countless years, he became accustomed to speaking to himself, and on occasion, conversing with the dead. There is a myth that with his lifeless eyes he still sees the dead, and he's seen plenty.
SPEAKER_04:Barry, this is just some dream birth, or a viper has charmed the balmy. Either way, I'll ride.
SPEAKER_06:The marksman pulls out a handkerchief, wipes the headlight and chrome handlebars, then climbs on his bike and speeds down an empty street. Inside the high water saloon, a heavily bearded man picks away at a banjo on a dimly lit stage. It's not exactly a dive bar, but cigarette smoke hovers above the patrons, visible when the light hits it just right. Bar stools are positioned in a half circle at the front of a smoothly polished darkened cedar bar. The stools are mostly empty, save for a few customers who hover over the bar nursing their pints. The barkeep wears a stained t-shirt and suspenders. A thick, lit stogie stays permanently affixed between his teeth. He stands in front of a wide array of backlit bottles of brands Leo has never heard of before.
SPEAKER_04:Hi, folks. You, sir. You new in town? Felix is my name.
SPEAKER_06:Hey, Felix. Leo. It's nice to meet you. Yeah, I've been here a few months. And where are you assigned, Leo? An ORA recovery agent of the Dante branch. Uh...
SPEAKER_04:The patrons
SPEAKER_06:of the bar within earshot of the barkeep laugh. The barkeep chews on his cigar and looks dismayed.
SPEAKER_04:Leo removes
SPEAKER_06:a palm-sized steno pad from his back pocket. He flips to a page with handwritten questions, pulls a small pencil stored within the metal spiral, and checks off the question. Does money exist in hell? You actually have a list. We should all have a list. Felix, can we start off with a couple of beers? Cancel that. Felix, can we have two glasses of the Topaz Surprise, please? Table four.
SPEAKER_04:Coming right up, Willie.
SPEAKER_06:Wait, you have a drink
SPEAKER_04:named after you?
SPEAKER_06:Willie engages in a victorious dance and sidles over to table four. Of course you do. Leo joins him at the table. Just as they are seated, Jillian enters the high water. Ooh, who is that? Oh, that's Jillian. Sebastian's, uh, Sebastian is her caseworker, too. Mind if I ask her to join us? Allow me. Full of swagger, Willie saunters over to Jillian, who is still surveying the scene. Miss Jillian, you don't know me, but my friend with the permanent scowl over there and myself would be honored if you would join us. Jillian looks over at the table Willie is gesturing to and spots Leo, who gives an awkward wave.
SPEAKER_01:Sure.
SPEAKER_06:Willie happily escorts Jillian over to table four. Hey Jillian, nice to see you.
SPEAKER_02:Hi, Leo. Did you and Sebastian connect?
SPEAKER_06:No, actually, he never showed.
SPEAKER_02:Well, you should get your chance. He's supposed to meet me here after work.
SPEAKER_04:Three Topaz surprises. Might still need to work on the name. Can I interest anyone in some food? We have a few specials.
SPEAKER_06:You don't happen
SPEAKER_04:to have a Reuben sandwich, do you? No, but I could look into it. Here are some menus if anything else looks appetizing.
SPEAKER_06:After dropping off the menus, the barkeep heads back to the bar. Jillian stares at the glass at the Topaz Surprise. Garnished on top is a half slice of pineapple, a sliver of bacon, and three green olives. Topping it all off is a cocktail umbrella with two maraschino cherries attached. The color of the beverage is even more problematic. A horrifying melange resembling prune juice mixed with guacamole.
SPEAKER_02:Um, so, Willie, what's in this wonderful concoction you've created?
SPEAKER_04:One ounce vodka, one ounce rum, one ounce gin, one ounce tequila, half an ounce of cognac, two ounces sweet and sour
SPEAKER_06:mix,
SPEAKER_04:ten
SPEAKER_06:ounces of orange soda, and Willie Topaz's special sauce.
SPEAKER_02:I'll pass. I'll
SPEAKER_06:pass. It's just a splash of hot sauce. Cheers! Well? You like?
SPEAKER_02:Oh, yeah. Really good.
SPEAKER_06:There you go, Jillian. I'll go get us another round. Willie races over to the bar in excitement. Leo leans over to Jillian. Quick, hand me your glass.
SPEAKER_02:Nice thinking.
SPEAKER_06:Jillian gives Leo her glass, and he pulls both drinks out into a plant near their table. Let's just hope the plant survives.
SPEAKER_02:It will. It's plastic.
SPEAKER_06:Did you know there's no money here?
SPEAKER_02:Where? In the bar? Were you planning to rob it?
SPEAKER_06:No. No, I mean like anywhere in hell. There's no economy.
SPEAKER_02:Isn't this transformation just a couple years old? Give it time. Soon we'll all be paying taxes.
SPEAKER_06:No, I definitely need a drink. Back at the bar, Willie is ordering a new round of drinks. Hey, Felix, this beat is dope.
SPEAKER_04:Who's the house
SPEAKER_06:band?
SPEAKER_04:It's actually mine. We're called Possum Bobby. Check this out.
SPEAKER_06:Felix calls over his backup bartender, walks to the side of the stage, grabs a bass guitar and joins the band on stage. Willie notices the number of customers has doubled since he and Leo had arrived. A few patrons dance in front of the stage enjoying the music. The new bartender hands Willie his drinks and the former actor begins walking back to the table. As he crosses the entrance, there is a sudden outburst of cheers and applause from inside the saloon. Willie, believing it to be some of his fans, sets his drinks on the table and walks towards the crowd. The crowd marches past him towards someone else still standing in the entrance. It's Billy Beauchief. Deflated, Willie sits at the table with Leo and Jillian.
SPEAKER_02:You know, Willie, you were wrong earlier. I did recognize you. Brock Gatling, a knight of a billion bullets, was one of my favorites growing up as a kid.
SPEAKER_04:Fun fact, we actually used close to a million blank rounds while shooting that movie. Set a world record.
SPEAKER_02:The finale at the end, where Brian Dennehy is about to ignite the bomb.
SPEAKER_04:Oh, let's not spoil it. I have a feeling our friend here hasn't seen it.
SPEAKER_02:Leo, you've never seen a Brock Gatling movie?
SPEAKER_06:I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I didn't know who Willie was when we first met. What did you watch? Football? Baseball? Okay, besides sports. Dragnet? Magnum P.I.? All cop shows. Don't get me wrong. Tom
SPEAKER_04:Selleck was the man. Now you, m'lady. Leo was a cop. I'm an actor. Was an actor. Once an
SPEAKER_06:actor, always an actor. But Miss Jillian, you're something of a mystery.
SPEAKER_02:I was in the CIA. Counterterrorism.
SPEAKER_04:No shit! Better than any spy novel.
SPEAKER_06:Now it makes sense. What? Sebastian, when he said talking to you is better than any spy novel. Wait, Sebastian and you? Thanks, Leo. I guess I won't get a call from the CIA anytime soon. You and the onboarding specialist. Not much surprises me, but that... Let's drop it. Okay, next topic. Leo, what other questions do you have on your list?
SPEAKER_02:What? List?
SPEAKER_06:Sure, Leo. Leo reveals the steno pad and plops it on the table. He flips to the page of the list. Willy snatches it. Hey!
SPEAKER_04:Question number one. Where is Hitler?
SPEAKER_06:What? Why? Well, think about it. I mean, didn't we all just assume he'd go to hell if it existed? Which we now know it does. So where are all the really bad people? I can help you with that one, Detective Ron. Miles away from here, the City of Dis. City of this? City of Dis, with a D. A city built within an enormous circular wall. Each floor, a ring. It's basically a penal colony. As you can expect, the place is so vast, it takes up almost all of Netherhell. All of the worst of the worst, the really horrible ones, go there. Then how in the hell does someone like Herman, the serial killer, not wind up there? I mean, did he need a couple more victims to reach city of diss status? I don't pretend to know all the rules, but you're not kidding. That motherfucker creeps me the fuck out.
SPEAKER_02:He did seem to be reveling in all this.
SPEAKER_06:Willie hands the list back to Leo. Another one checked off the list.
SPEAKER_02:I want to hear another one. Wait, hold that thought.
SPEAKER_06:Jillian steps away from the table and goes up to the bar. What a woman. Mr. Sebastian, here's to you. Willie raises his glass and downs another toe pie surprise. Hey, you two haven't touched your drinks. I'm basing myself. Jillian returns with more appealing looking drinks.
SPEAKER_02:For you, Detective Braun, I get the sense you're a dark spirits type of guy. Probably bourbon, but since we're not in the United States anymore, I hope you'll settle for whiskey straight.
SPEAKER_06:Thank you, Jillian. Wait, did you profile me or something? Very clever, Agent Burkett.
SPEAKER_02:Officer Burkett. And yes,
SPEAKER_06:I
SPEAKER_02:did.
SPEAKER_06:What are you drinking, Officer Burkett?
SPEAKER_02:Vodka Gimlet. Tasty. Okay, Leo, next question off your list.
SPEAKER_06:Okay, now, don't laugh.
SPEAKER_02:No promises.
SPEAKER_06:Do Reuben sandwiches even exist in hell? What is it with you and this sandwich? It's delicious. Interrupting the laughter, orientation specialist Billy Bushief approaches their table. He's wearing oversized sunglasses, a fur coat, an orange graphic tee, and black boots, a stark contrast to the mild-mannered attire he wore on orientation day. He takes a sip of a neon green cocktail. Billy catches a glimpse of the topaz surprise.
SPEAKER_05:Now,
SPEAKER_06:what in the absolute freckle fuck is
SPEAKER_05:that? After
SPEAKER_06:scaling a variety of molten rock for the better part of an hour, the pig has finally reached a resurgence in the cave. He drops onto the flattened cave floor. The sando's feet landing seems to echo for miles in the wide open cavern. Shit. Splunky wasn't far off. He pulls a small flashlight from his overcoat breast pocket and aims the beam forward. Dust particles dance and spin in the beam as it spreads out into the darkness of the underground cavity ahead. The pig places the butt of the flashlight in his gnarled mouth while he fishes out a Ruger snub-nosed revolver from a waist holster. He takes a deep breath and starts his descent deeper into the cave. Back at the high water saloon, Leo, Willie, Jillian, and Billy, the chief, all take shots.
SPEAKER_04:Okay.
SPEAKER_06:Okay. I, uh, I... Want another?
SPEAKER_04:Come on, Leo.
SPEAKER_02:One more. Willie, you're a machine. I'm going to check on Sebastian. Is there a phone around here? In the back there. Walk past the giant bullhead, turn right, and before you walk into the little girl's room, you'll see it. Thanks, Billy.
SPEAKER_06:Jillian steps away, narrowly avoiding another round of shots. Okay, but last one.
UNKNOWN:Ah!
SPEAKER_04:That's it. I'm done.
SPEAKER_05:So, Mr. Braun, did you ever get the information
SPEAKER_06:you so desperately needed? I seem to recall you had some omissions in your file. No, but Sebastian, my caseworker, apparently he has some information to share. Jillian is going to find out where he is. They were supposed to meet here. Miss Birkin. And Sebastian, oh my stars! Leo. Remind me to never tell you a secret. As Jillian returns, Billy Bushief has moved on to another patron's table to hold court. Jillian, any luck reaching him?
SPEAKER_02:I called the office and they said he left about 30 minutes ago.
SPEAKER_06:Let's go. I
SPEAKER_04:got a ride. I'll take you.
SPEAKER_06:Sebastian is riding his bike down Sybaris Avenue. He's calm, tired, and in good spirits. He's also unaware that he's being followed. A half mile behind him on his motorcycle, the marksman follows. A young woman in her early twenties, dressed in a black sweatshirt, sweatpants and white tennis shoes walks briskly down Leviathan Boulevard. She carries with her a backpack. It's a winding path that leads towards the outskirts of Dante and towards the ornamental fish pond where Leo's friend Maximilian is located. Back in the cave, the pig delves ever deeper into the cavernous expanse. His gun is drawn, aimed towards the emptiness ahead, until he detects a draft that coils around his neck. In the far distance, he detects the faintest sound, like static on the radio. Willie is behind the wheel of a 1966 Ford Mustang, cherry red. Jillian is in the passenger seat. Leo rides in the back. They cross the intersection of Asmodeus Street and Avenue X. Their destination is the Barren Claw Apartments. On the outskirts of Dante, the young woman in the black sweats and white shoes reaches the grassy flats of the ornamental fish pond. She appears to be scoping out a specific spot. Sebastian walks out of a supermarket carrying a bouquet of flowers. The marksman perched amongst the shadows in the balcony of a building nearby tracks Sebastian through the scope on his rifle, as the onboarding specialist unchains his bicycle and rides off. The pig is no longer trekking through nothingness. He's reached a corridor with crudely constructed walls lined with paracords. A random assortment of light bulbs are strewn amongst the walls of the narrow corridor. They dim intermittently. He puts the flashlight away and grasps the handle of the revolver with both hands. The young woman in the black sweats pulls a can of red spray paint from her backpack. She shakes the can while examining a bench. At the same moment, Maximilian resurfaces from his eternal drowning. After regaining his equilibrium, he remembers the promise he gave to Leo. Immediately, he notices a figure in the distance. Sebastian enters his apartment at the barren claw. He sets his work things on a desk, freshens up in the bathroom, and grabs a clean shirt off a hanger in his closet. As he buttons up the shirt standing in his bedroom, he hears a knock at the front door. Willie, Jillian, and Leo are stuck at a train track as a train roars by. Maximilian strains his neck above the water surface to see what appears to be a young woman in the distance. He notices another figure, only a short distance away from the woman. It looks to be a man cloaked in a black hoodie, and he's staring at the woman. The pig arrives at a door at the end of the corridor. He stealthily eases next to the door, placing an ear against it, examining it. He notices rudimentary, almost medieval carvings that frame the door. The jagged carvings are in the shape of circles, and in the middle of each misshapen circle is the number 11. The pig begins to twist the doorknob. Enter Sebastian's apartment to find it ransacked. Drawers pulled out of the dresser. Clothes thrown on the floor. A table lamp and a shattered light bulb lay on the carpet. There's blood on the sink. The marksman stands in a field a few yards away. He can hear a woman crying from Sebastian's apartment. He sees a 1966 Ford Mustang left running in front of the apartment. The driver is still inside. What the hell? Excuse
SPEAKER_03:me! Miss!
UNKNOWN:so
SPEAKER_06:The pig sneaks beyond the door. He enters a room filled with wires and unfamiliar equipment. The radio static noise is much louder now. As he steps further into the room, he clears the corner to see with clarity the intention of the room. It resembles the briefing room of the ORA. Narrow slots from the ceiling to the floor. Unassigned briefcases sit at the base of each column. A man leans over the slots. He has a mohawk. Cartoonish tattoos occupy the exposed areas of his scalp. He's adorned Who are you?
SPEAKER_01:You're not supposed to be here.
SPEAKER_04:The two of us are out of place. But only one of us is walking out of here. Beware the Eleventh Circle. What? What
SPEAKER_06:is that? Miss?
SPEAKER_04:Please, over here!
SPEAKER_06:She stops spraying the bench and admires her artwork, unaware that the man in the hoodie is now standing right behind her. At the Baron Clair apartment, Leo attempts to console Jillian.
SPEAKER_02:We have to find him, Leo. He said he was being followed.
SPEAKER_06:He mentioned that? By who?
SPEAKER_02:That freak they call the Pig.
SPEAKER_06:Did you say the Pig? The pig is on the floor being dragged away from the room with the briefcase slots. He's held at the feet by two others. He loses consciousness as he's pulled further into shadow. Captain Mangut sits in the Devil's Den at her desk. She's typing up a report when someone enters.
SPEAKER_03:Captain Mangut, reporting for duty. Miss Stryker, welcome to the ORA.
SPEAKER_05:Miss!
SPEAKER_06:Maximilian yells louder, but he's too far away to make any difference. The man standing inches away from the young woman removes his hood. It's Herman, the serial killer. Oh, naughty little girl. You're defacing
SPEAKER_05:public property.
SPEAKER_03:What? Defacing? What is that? Oh, that's right. You've probably never heard of that before. That's what I love about this place. You
SPEAKER_06:want to know why? Sure,
SPEAKER_02:pale-eyes, why?
SPEAKER_06:Like a beast after its prey, Herman grabs the woman by the throat and lifts her off the ground. She loses the spray can, which bounces off the bench. The woman wants to scream, but the grip around her throat is too tight. Because here, I
SPEAKER_04:can do
SPEAKER_06:whatever I want. What? Maximilian can't make out exactly what is happening, but he knows it
SPEAKER_03:isn't good. The water
SPEAKER_06:surrounding him starts to swirl and churn, which can only mean one thing. Herman reveals a long, sharp knife and raises the knife above his head. The young woman is screaming.
SPEAKER_04:No, just this once, please!
SPEAKER_06:Maximilian is pulled underwater. He thrashes and fights against the current which forces him to the bottom of the deep. He gurgles, screams, cries, but ultimately drowns. A few seconds later, Max's thrust lock explodes to the surface. The man in the hoodie and the young woman are gone. On the bench, the seat is covered in red spray paint. A red circle bleeding at the edges decorates the middle of the bench. At the circle's center is the number. Eleven.
SPEAKER_01:Leo Braun is a production of Shoestring TV. You can find us at patreon.com slash shoestring tv where you can listen to each episode for free or subscribe for only five dollars a month. With the subscription you'll become a member of the Obsidian Recovery Agency which grants you early access to each episode, bonus clips, artwork, and so much more. You can also find us on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, I Heart Radio, and just about anywhere you listen to podcasts. You can also find us on Facebook and join the official Leo Braun fan page. Leo Braun was written and produced by me, Jason Beard, and starring Stitch Mainville as Leo Braun, Andy Parkin as Narrator 2, Tabitha Mixon as Jillian Burkett. Eric Carlino as Sebastian, Billy Boshie, and Herman Edward Coxland. Jim Fronk as Satan and the Pig. Mitch Lashinsky as Father Marwood and the Marksman. Terry Briscoe as Willie Topaz and Bishop Barlow. Richie Berry as Maximilian. Melrose Johnson as Captain F.J. Mangut. Emily Fry as Laurie Stryker. Grace Newton as Young Woman. and Robert Lloyd as Bradley Taft, Archbishop Macaluso, and Felix the Barkeep. Additionally, Robert's band, Awesome Bobby, had three original songs featured in this episode. Nola Girls, The Girl That Was Lookin' At Me, The Voodoo You Do To Me. Stay tuned for Leo Braun Episode 8, So Good It Kills. Thanks again for listening.