Sinners & Saints is set in a near future city, Saint City. People come to Saint City for an opportunity to become great. Regardless of their professions they're all the same, trying to become a legend in their field. Bounty Hunters, Demon Hunters, even your hot dog vendor on the side of the road. A city of fifty million working its own eco system, founded on the blood of the Seraphim Accord, host to violence, demons, strip clubs and the occasional church, it is here people come to live for a while before they die a legend.
"Anthony Redgrave. Hellsing. I need to speak with Walter Dornez."
Those words gave the GENTEC soldier enough pause for Tony to push past him, down the sterile-looking corridors of the infirmary in the heart of GENTEC headquarters. He wouldn't be denied; not here, not now, not after what he had been seeing and hearing.
Integra Hellsing was dead. Executed - on fucking television - by none other than Hija Himura.
For a small mercy, it had soon transpired that Walter Dornez was at least alive, and had been recovered to GENTEC by Alucard. Big Red himself. Tony had still had yet to even lay eyes on him except at the memorial held for Alex Chambers, and that was hardly the setting to make introductions. Walter, however, was much more familiar; Integra's stalwart manservant and bodyguard, a consummate slayer of monsters even in his nineties, and an auspiciously talented gunsmith to boot. He had been returned in a battered, sorry state, but he was alive. Tony would be happy with that small victory.
He'd already learned from the troops which ward Walter was being held in. His recovery would be an arduous one, by all accounts. Another corner, then another - there it was. With a solemn expression on his face, Tony came to a halt at the door, then raised a hand to knock.
"Walter? It's Tony. You, ah... alright to have visitors?"
"Yes, of course, please do come in," Walter called back loudly, he sounded well enough. Despite the injuries he had taken days prior he would be seen in a pretty healthy state now. He was sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed wearing a hospital gown, his right hand was wrapped up in a full cast that covered his hand where he had lost several fingers from killing several of his captors trying to protect ser Integra. It seemed he was in a pretty decent mental state given what had transpired days ago and something seemed more youthful in his face and body as if he was bulkier and his face less tired.
"I suspect you're here because of Ser Integra," he asked, he was holding a phone in his left hand texting on it as he talked, "I assure you, I have nothing to say about the situation except... Hellsing is officially dead."
He looked up at Tony, over his glasses, his eyes narrowed. The look he was giving him was almost malicious, "that doesn't mean I do not plan to murder every last one of the men involved with her death."
Walter finished the text and sent it finally setting the phone aside and stood up, rather he popped up quickly to his feet, faster than Tony probably had seen him move in their time together, "I don't expect you're here just for that however, so... What can I do for you today Mr. Redgrave?"
As he pushed the door open just long enough to step into the room, Tony was immediately struck by how much heartier Walter looked after just a few days of recuperation. The cast was still there, and would be for some time more, but the rest of him looked somehow more youthful, and far better rested. Even as old as he was, he wouldn't suffer himself to slow down.
Tony met Walter's scowling declaration of revenge with a thin smile and an affirmative nod of the head.
"You'll take pleasure in it when the time comes, I've no doubt about that," he answered with equal conviction. Reaching back a moment to be sure the door had closed, he stepped a few feet further into the room. That solemn look returned briefly to his face, marked by a passing curious expression as Walter rose with almost a spring in his step. "To business, then. You're right - I came to ask a favour. I'm told that you brought a few tools for me when you came stateside with Ser Integra for Chambers' memorial, is that right?"
"I yes, the twin .500 caliber pistols I prepared for you before your assignment," Walter pulled the hospital gown off with his free hand, he was wearing briefs under thankfully, he moved to the closet and pulled it open where a pair of slacks and a dress shirt were. He pulled the shirt on, "oh, please assist me, I fear with one hand buttoning my own shirt will be a slight challenge for the moment."
He continued on as Tony aided him, "There was also a sword, I didn't forge it but it was handled by most trusted members of the Church of England who donated blessed metals into making it. It was then passed onto Desperado Enforcement, where it was fully casted into a high frequency blade and hardened properly. As requested, the blade stands at the proper specifications to your build including height and weight. Unfortunately... I no longer possess either set of weapons as they were passed onto a legendary weapon smith in town for their final touches, dare I say the masterwork on these weapons will surpass anything I have previously handled for Lord Alucard or Miss Victoria."
Walter pulled his slacks up with one hand this time he slid the steel clasp in place holding the pants together, he was starting to look more like himself now, "I had the intention of picking them up for you before our departure, unfortunately... Umbrella intercepted us moments after the missile impact when the commotion was at its peak. I would retrieve them myself but I'm told I have about two more treatments before I will be in good shape for my... Final Master Piece."
.500? As in Smith and Wesson .500? Damn - and here was Tony, trundling through life thinking .50 Action Express was an ideal anti-Tyrant caliber. Whatever Walter had been building sounded positively, perfectly excessive, in true Hellsing fashion.
"Ah, of course." Tony stepped forward immediately to answer Walter's request for help, and carefully set about buttoning up the shirt while Walter fumbled with the sleeve over his bound right hand and continued to speak of the weapons he'd prepared for Tony. The sword was ready too? That, he was most definitely looking forward to - he'd quite fallen in love with his first experiences of high-frequency bladework, and set about drawing up his specification for Walter's consideration as soon as the opportunity had arisen. News that they weren't immediately on hand, however, was a little more sobering. Handed off to a local smith for completion, Walter said. At least that meant they'd remained out of Umbrella's filthy hands.
Masterworks, eh? "That's a bold statement," Tony answered. "I've been on the receiving end of the Harkonnen, that thing could rip a tank in half. But if you're speaking that highly of these pieces, I'll be all the more anxious to get my hands on them." He adjusted the final buttons, patted down the front of the shirt. Walter was definitely looking more like himself now. With an easy smile, Tony clapped the venerable butler on the shoulder.
"You take it easy here, Walter. Focus on getting well, and leave the wet work to us for now. Where can I find this 'legendary weaponsmith?'"
"Yes, yes, no worries, I'll be a week or so before I join the fight," Walter said, his expression was back to being more grim as he bent over and picked up his two dress shoes and moved back to the chair sitting in it and sliding each shoe on, they were slip on's thankfully or else he'd have a hard time tying them and his pride might hurt having someone else dress him fully.
"Let's see, if memory does me well and pardon I was hit quiet a few times in the head," he said, a smile crossing his grim face, "151 Attorney St, in East Village. It's south of here off of Houston street two or three blocks away from the Bridge if memory serves me correctly. You'll be looking for someone named Nico, I'm pretty sure they work alone so don't be alarmed if no one is at the garage just give it a bit of time, they'll show."
As Walter began recounting directions to this legendary weaponsmith's place of work, Tony already had his cellphone in hand, plugging the address into a GPS application. He could navigate in terms of landmarks, but he didn't know New York City that intimately.
"Nico," he repeated, and gave another affirmative nod of his head. He filed away the advice to exercise a little patience if he found the garage empty. "Right. I imagine they'll be expecting you to pick up the goods. Just in case they don't feel like sharing with anyone else, have you got any sort of token I can take with me as proof that you sent me?"
"Hm?" Walter hadn't thought of that, it was he and a guard who dropped them off while Integra was looking over the remains of Chambers, "I suppose all you'll need is the Hellsing Coat of Arms given that I was in the presence of one of our men. I did mention Ser Integra by name and the Hellsing family as a whole. I'm sure they'll be understanding even if they are a bit... Eccentric in nature."
Walter was pulling a tie around his neck which he quickly tied with one hand as if he had done that before, he slipped into a black vest and slid the three buttons into their large holes, a task much easier than buttoning a shirt, "Oh, yes, as a favor as well can you put in a request to finish the work on the 15mm I handed over, I never quite got that weapon to not explode upon the first couple shots... Granted, Alucard wasn't exactly easy on the damn thing either. Pardon my French."
"Understood. Guess I'll dress for the occasion, that'll hopefully be enough." That made sense, and it wasn't as if Tony didn't own a Hellsing uniform himself. Truth be told, he didn't expect to encounter any trouble, but it always paid to come prepared for it.
"Wait, Alucard asked for a bigger gun than the Jackal? Jesus. What was he hunting that the Jackal struggled to put down?" He set aside his phone as he spoke, directions at the ready, and checked himself over in readiness to be on his way. As much as he enjoyed Walter's company, there was always work to be done, and he imagined the doctors would soon be shooing him out to leave such a valuable patient alone.
Walter chuckled, "the 15mm Genesis Hand Cannon was something of legend twenty years ago. I'm sure you've heard some of the whispers of Tyrant 313 and 314 and the rampage they went on taking out most of the RPD, STARS, and a massive chunk of Wonderland and Hellsing at the time. 314 was put down by a collective effort but 313 persisted for months following and even the .454, 13mm and Quicksilver couldn't cut through its EMG field. That was where I came in."
"The weapon was a masterpiece in power alone, the design similar to the 13mm Jackal, a golden frame with the Hellsing motto written down the side. It fired 15mm rounds cased in blessed Macedonian silver with blunt hallow point tips designed for delayed explosive impacts. The power behind the weapon was enough to power through the EMG field and hit its mark. However, Alucard decided it was best to fire the weapon as fast as he could and because of this the weapon barrel melted and one of the shots exploded in the chamber destroying most of the frame work. The man knew no subtlety unfortunately. It took me years to rebuild it, not for use but for pride. I wanted to perfect said weapon to not overheat, unfortunately even I could not achieve this which is why I've passed the weapon onto the child of a legend to see if their expertise can put this old mans only failure to bed."
Oh, damn. Tony should've put two and two together. He kept his mouth shut for the time being, and listened, as one always ought to when Walter had a story to tell.
"I've heard the stories in broad strokes from Seras and the older troops," he admitted. "Scared the shit out of all of 'em to think that a man-made monster could stand up to Big Red. 'Course, Ser Integra once told me she'd pay to see me go a round with the man himself after what it took for Seras to bring me in that first night." His smile took a wistful twist at the memory. What a strange thought it always was, that just two short years after he came within a hair's breadth of killing one of Hellsing's most potent operatives single-handed, he himself would come to be counted among that number.
"I'll look forward to seeing this Nico's handiwork for myself," he declared at once, and straightened up. "I'll leave you to your rest, Walter. Damned good to see you." Offering another smile, and a snap salute, the white-haired monster of Hellsing turned to take his leave of the room. Twenty minutes later, suited up and packing the M14 and the Taurus he'd brought with him from Alice's apartment, he departed GENTEC HQ altogether, following his phone's directions to the address Walter had given him. Time to get to work.
"Good day Sir Redgrave, and good luck," Walter said grabbing his phone from the table, he had many important calls to get to regarding the management of Hellsing further. As Tony was leaving a nurse entered the room.
"Mr. Dornez, it is time for the next treatment," she began, "I believe you'll have your full hand back after this one as well."
"Perfect, I cannot tell you how much of a hassle it is to text with your left hand," Walter said cheerily.
"To be honest Mr. Dornez, I'm surprised someone of your age is into texting," she replied.
"Someone of my age? Whatever do you mean? I feel as if I'm getting younger with every treatment," he joked, they both laughed.
The streets around Nico's Garage were cluttered with decay, most of the vehicles were pushed out of the way by someone giving the street an open access to the garage. The front of the building was lit brightly with a red neon sign that read: Goldsteins. The building was made of brick with two large black garage doors made of metal. There was a notice on the garage door that simply read, 'we do not fix cars, we turn them into weapons.' The lights inside were out currently as Nico wasn't there, on the entrance door was a sign: Be Back in 20.
For the workplace of a legendary weaponsmith, this place looked like a dump run by an amateur mechanic.
The neon signage was a nice touch, at least. Goldstein's. Could be a name - Nico Goldstein. Tony made a mental note to ask. Weaponry stowed, he approached the metal doors, drawn firmly shut to protect the empty garage. As he came closer, his eye was drawn to a sign: 'Be back in 20.'
He always hated these signs. How long ago was it put up, twenty minutes or twenty seconds? It didn't tell him a damn thing. Oh well; nothing for it but to wait. So there he waited, leaning against the wall beside the open doorway, M14 drawn across his chest, Hellsing badge emblazoned on his olive jacket. How interesting it would be to meet the smith Walter held in such high esteem.
Around ten minutes would go by before Tony heard music blasting from down the street, dare he investigate he'd see a large blue and white van driving around 96kmh down the street. The driver side window was down, whoever was inside had their arm hanging out with a cigarette in hand. When nearing the garage they hit the breaks hard sliding the vehicle around the wreckage of a burned out vehicle and it came to a halt before one of the garage doors where a girl in the vehicle popped her head out the driver side.
The garage door opened as she pressed a button in the vehicle.
"You should head on in before the crowd passes by," she said hitting the gas lightly and pulling the vehicle into the garage leaving it open only for him to enter and close when he had done so. She got out the vehicle, she was dressed pretty light despite the horde of zombies she was leading around in the vehicle. The girl had a number of visible tattoos oh her body, she was tanned with her bushy black hair pulled back. Nico headed to the back of the van and pulled it open grabbing one of the several duffel bags inside and dragged it across the garage, "hey hun, be so kind as to grab a few of those yeah?"
The inside of the garage was massive, it dipped down on one side by about three foot making it even larger, that side was another workshop entirely, from the car side it looked like there was hundreds of weapons on that side. The car side was pretty standard in terms of car garages, nothing out of place exactly aside from a few decorations that would be considered out of place, one being the bust of a hunter.
"So, what can I do you for," she asked grabbing another bag and pulled it over to the other side, only three left.
Ten minutes, counted nearly to the second with a hand always resting on the grip of his rifle and an eye scanning the street in both directions. One could never know when a stray zombie, or something nastier, might wander too close. His attention was drawn immediately to the approaching roar of a vehicle moving at some speed. Screaming into view came a van, that skidded to a halt in front of the garage - a hell of a slide from the driver, who poked her head out the window to hail her waiting visitor.
As the doors swung open and she pulled the van into the garage, Tony peered the way she came. Sure enough, in the distance, a mob of zombies was shambling in their direction, no doubt following the van as best they could.
"Fantastic," Tony jeered, and hurried in behind the cheery driver of the van. At her request - better to help her be done with whatever she was doing so that she could secure the garage before those zeds arrived - he hauled the remaining bags out of the back of the van, one over his shoulder and the other two in his hands.
"You're Nico, I take it?" he asked the woman as he shouldered the van shut and followed her to the enormous workspace at the back of the room. "Nico Goldstein? Tony Redgrave, Hellsing. Walter Dornez sent me to pick up a few prize pieces you were tasked with finishing for him."
"Yep, that's me," she replied back grabbing the last of the bags and sat it by the rest, she bent down and unzipped one revealing why they were so heavy, they were loaded with weapon parts, none of them full weapons most of them broken down into slides, stocks, barrels, so on so forth.
"Shit almost forgot," she said bouncing up to her feet and hurrying across the shop to a corner where a computer was set up with several CCTV monitors, she pressed a button on the wall that originally used to open and close the main garage door, now instead it sent a signal to several speakers set up on other buildings to play music drawing the zombies away from the garage, "Walter? Walter... hmmm oh right yeah, the old cat who came in here with the weapons. Yeah, I worked them over pretty good let's see."
Nico crossed from the garage down the four stairs into the shop motioning for him to follow, she flicked a light switch turning on several florescent lights. The shop had several work benches, a couch on one side with a TV set up on the wall, there was a couple pizza boxes set out from god knows how long ago. She had a couple weapons laying around already taken apart. In the opposite corner there were a number of gun boxes, she was mumbling names as she pushed one at a time aside before grabbing one large one and setting it on a large oak table in the middle of the room and pushed them to him so he could inspect them while she opened a door to a small closet and pulled out a long object wrapped in white cloth and brought it to the table setting it down as well.
"Old dude's pretty hot with weapons, I just made sure these would last a while. Treat them right and they'll treat you right just... Don't do what my last client did with his revolver, he gummed the entire thing up by punching through a zombie with it... Took me like two days to get that puppy clean and ready for usage again... Speaking of which, I thought you were him at first white hair and everything got my hopes up of giving him his arm," she said absent minded, "at any rate, check em out."
This woman could comfortably be described as carefree, Tony mused. She certainly didn't quite look the part, at least not compared to the image he had had in his head when he was on his way here. All the same, if Walter had entrusted his work to her to be not only finished, but improved upon, then she must be the real deal.
He followed close behind, watched as she dug out one among a number of labelled gun cases and set it on the table before him. He pulled it closer, popped open the latches and lifted the lid to reveal a pair of enormous handguns. Set into the foam backing all around them were oblong metal containers identical in shape to the guns' lower assemblies. Tony had memorised the specification in his excitement to see the finished product; these were magazines, fully loaded, with no fewer than twenty rounds, and there were six of them to be seen in addition to those already loaded into the weapons themselves. Horizontal box mags, hearkening to the unique construction of the P90 - it was genius.
"My god..." Tony set the mag down, and lifted one of the guns out of the case. Even as strong as he was, he could feel its heft. "Been looking forward to this. Hellsing Arms Anathema combat pistols - forty centimetres long, twelve kilograms in weight, chambered in Smith and Wesson five hundred. Custom twenty-round horizontal box magazines. Absolutely beautiful. And this!"
Excitement was creeping into his tone as he set the exceptional weapon down, and reached next for the object wrapped in the cloth. He took it in his left hand, unwrapped and lowered the cloth, exposing a beautiful claymore sporting a cross motif. He drew it from its scabbard with a quick, sharp ringing, thumbed a carefully hidden button at the base of the crossguard, and the blade's edges began to glow an intense blue and give off a hideous whining sound.
"Hellsing Arms Vengeant," he declared. "Designed to specification by Walter, completed by Desperado Enforcement. Been looking forward to getting my hands on this even more than the guns." He thumbed the switch again, and the blade fell silent and lost its glow. He returned it carefully to its scabbard.
"Speaking of guns, Walter wanted me to ask after the fifteen-millimetre too. Is it ready?"
"Oh yeah, it's ready, didn't figure you'd be picking that up too," Nico said, "I have to store that one by the rifles."
She grabbed a case on it and lifted it up with both hands and sat it on the table, it made a loud clunk when she sat it down. She unlatched both hinges on the box, "I don't understand who in the world could even wield a pistol like this, but this thing is legendary. Originally Walter shipped me the parts six months ago and I've done my hand in redesigning parts of it and giving it my own flair, only seems right when it became my own passion project. This is the 15mm 'Genesis'."
Nico opened the box out of his view, she reached in with both hands one grabbing the grip of the weapon the other grabbing the barrel. When she pulled the massive pistol from the box he would understand the meaning of overkill. The thing was the size of a shotgun. Inside the box were about thirty 15x120 bullets, they were clearly larger than .50 BMG anti-material rifle bullets.
"So, I altered everything about this thing. Originally, he had it set up with a box magazine housing 15mm bullets, but they were akin to a fifty caliber deagle bullet rather than a fifty caliber M99. This thing actually fires fifteen by one twenty rounds, it fires a bullet that is twice the size of a point fifty BMG round, something that should be fired from a rifle with a full recoil control system. So, what is the method to my madness in making this thing work? I've changed the entire inner workings of the pistol to be hand fed like a shotgun. It can be loaded with five rounds before having to be reloaded, something makes me thing Walter wasn't thinking outside the box too heavily on such an outlandish weapon, he was thinking pistol I am thinking shotgun. Whoever the hell can fire this thing like a pistol is a fucking monster."
"I took the liberty to turn this into an art project, I figured it was for decoration more than practical use despite me putting work into making it flawless so I etched out some designs across the hull of the weapon, no tactical use there but it sure is pretty. It is extremely heavy, pretty much one solid block of metal, I'd wager it weighs close to eight pounds, I wouldn't fire this thing with one hand that's for damn sure... I wouldn't fire this thing at all actually, I've seen idiots knock themselves out trying to fire a M99 from the shoulder."
There it was, and what a magnificent piece of engineering. Tony listened at rapt attention as Nico told the story of how the weapon came into her possession, and what she had done to rebuild and complete it. The finished product every bit as menacing as he had imagined.
She spoke as if she didn't know for what reason the gun had originally been built - definitely a conscious decision on Walter's part to leave her in the dark, so Tony decided to keep it that way. The awe on his face, however, was very much genuine.
"You're geniuses," he remarked. Her and Walter both. He reached out an almost tentative hand toward the weapon. "May I?"
Nico hefted the weapon up toward him giving him a nod, "please go ahead."
Whisper had spent some time recently job to job in upper Manhattan, now that the air was calmer she decided to drop back in to pay for and collect a requested weapon. She jumped rooftop to rooftop before noticing the loud heavy metal playing across a section of town and realized the crowd of zombies that were gathered on one street away from the Garage. She landed in front of the front door noticing the lights were all on inside but the be back later sign was still up, she knocked on the door.
"Wonder who that could be," Nico said moving to the door, she seemed to not worry about any kind of raiders or hostiles as she just pulled the door open and Whisper was standing there and pointed to the be back later sign, "oh shoot, I forgot to take that down. Thanks love."
Nico pulled the sign down and Whisper closed the door behind her, she was empty handed aside from a pistol on her hip. She noticed Tony and gave him a small nod and drummed her right hand fingers on her hip as she crossed to the table. Nico grabbed a rifle box and pulled it over to the table moving aside the box for the 15mm Genesis and sat down the other case opening it producing the .338 sniper rifle to Whisper who let out a little whistle and took it out the box examining it.
"I kept the ammo lightweight, I know you're used to firing 50 cals from the hip but I wanted something more light weight that you could carry more ammo on your... person, where do you carry ammo," Nico asked looking Whisper up and down, Whisper swung a bag off her shoulder and sat it on the table, it was pretty empty minus several magazines for her 1911, "Oh I didn't see the bag silly me. You want me to fill you up then?"
Whisper nodded, she opened the bag pulling out a rolled stack of money and sat it on the table, "should be enough," Whisper finally said, she looked at Tony and noticed his coat of arms, "sorry for your loss."
Tony reached out across the table to take hold of the Genesis grip-first, and in that single hand he hefted it for a closer look as if it were any ordinary sidearm.
"Jesus. You could probably bash a T-300's skull in just by swinging this thing at it." He lifted it at arm's length, peered down the reflex sight with its beady red pip. "I take it payment's already been-" He stopped at the ringing sound of somebody knocking at the front door. Tensing with a soldier's wariness, he bent his arm to withdraw the Genesis, watching as Nico scurried over to open the door to whomever was waiting outside. A slender young woman, carrying a pistol and a creased duffel bag. Another client, by the look of it, and one Nico knew.
Reverently, he set the Genesis back down inside its case as Nico pushed it aside to make room for another, a mean-looking sniper rifle which appeared to meet the new client's approval. Come to think of it, she looked familiar... Ah, Chambers' memorial! That was where he'd seen her. She hadn't spoken, merely approached the casket to lay something upon Chamber's body. She spotted the emblem on his jacket, offered a word of condolence, and Tony found a wistful smile curling his lips. He nodded his head.
"Thank you," he answered her. "It's cut us to the marrow, but we're still alive. Still ready to burn Umbrella to the ground. Name's Tony - I believe I spotted you at Alex Chambers' memorial service."
"She's Alicia Chambers," Nico said, thumbing through the money counting it out to see how much ammo she was going to include, "I know her well enough to know she was about to simply nod at you and probably say something silly like her code name."
Whisper shook her head at Nico, always forthcoming with information and never a worry in the world with that woman. She examined the rifle pulling back the bolt and pressed the side of the cylinder sliding it out of place and pulled back on it examining how the entire thing was technically a cartridge to be loaded from the front. It was an odd design choice but probably made up for reload times. Nico stepped away and came back with a brown bag of .338 bullets and dropped them on the table.
"The spare mags in the box already are loaded, if you want more than those I'm going to need a few days."
"Ten more I'll bring cash around tomorrow," Whisper replied quietly.
"Chamb- oh, shit." Tony's expression fell into sudden solemnity. The connection had dawned on him immediately. "Then I should offer you condolences in return," he told Alicia, and bowed his head. For a while longer, he kept his mouth shut and allowed Alicia and Nico to conduct their business. Meanwhile, he replaced the white Anathema inside its case, snapped the lid firmly shut, and wrapped the white cloth back around his new sword.
He waited for a sensible opportunity before he spoke up again. "As I was about to ask. I'm assuming payment has already been settled?"
"Yeah, Walter already paid for your stuff, the uh hand cannon is on loan for the moment until such and such picks it up, as Walter put it," Nico said shutting the box of the Genesis, Whisper was bagging the stuff inside the rifle case and zipped her bag up slinging it around her shoulder and slipping her head through it so it rested behind her, "if anything happens just bring the weapons back I'll spruce them up again and fix them, doesn't usually take long unless you blow them apart then they're effectively worthless and have to be recast. Ma used to tell me of a guy she knew back when who would put so much wear on pistols she had to keep making different ones for him, her last works were his weapons, masterpieces she'd call them."
"Either way, if there's anything else you ever need work on just let me know I'm happy to get things working and hitting harder," Nico concluded.
So that was that - here were his new toys. Smiling in anticipation, Tony dipped his head and set about securing the case holding the Anathemas.
"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Nico," he said, and reached to take the case in one hand and the sword in the other. Within its cover, the sword was fastened to a carabiner loop on his belt, so that it could hang at his hip and free his other hand to take the Genesis' case. Raising a now encumbered hand in a sort of wave, Tony turned to take his leave of the garage. He knew that some custom tactical gear had been prepared to hold his new weapons, so for the time being, he was bound for GENTEC headquarters again, to suit up properly. All that would remain then would be to find a target worthy to put his sublime new weapons to the proof.
Aside from the lumbering chaos going on around the corner the streets around Nico's shop were pretty clear for the most part, it was one of her guarantees that not everything needed to go wrong when visiting. Crossing any thresholds into GENTECS safe zone he'd be faced with very little opposition given his HELLSING insignia, Tachanka was working one opening near the military camp, the corpses he had once cut down were moved and not much was pushing his way anymore but he still manned his turret nonetheless. At the Southern most gate was Ela and her small squadron and the Northern most gate was Todd and his men. The other gate was shut off and only there for emergency usage.
Walter was no longer in his room, instead he was now located in a treatment ward.
Sparda entered the grounds through the camp entrance, offering the ever-present Tachanka a word of greeting as he passed, and made a beeline for the medical ward. He found Walter's room empty of the man, but still full of his belongings; he must be elsewhere for treatment. He set the Genesis' case on Walter's bed, topped with a handwritten note - property of Walter Dornez - then took his leave as quickly and quietly as he had appeared.
Off he went to his own makeshift quarters on the premises; space had been set aside for Hellsing's personnel when it became clear that Integra and her retinue were trapped within the quarantine. There, he knew that a change of clothes awaited him, along with tac gear designed to accompany his new toys. When he emerged from his room perhaps an hour later, he looked a different man. A reinforced coat, bearing the Hellsing patch on its left shoulder, hung over an equally custom tactical bodysuit, with the Anathemas sitting in underarm holsters and the Vengeant sheathed at his left hip.
He felt ready to take on the world - he certainly looked the part.