This file was gathered from the ucam.rec.games.assassin newsgroup and processed automatically into something approaching HTML by Ben Harris and a Perl script. This edition has been culled from Lynette Dray's Killer Page, and recoded/reformatted a little. The news was written by Nigel-James Harris, his last update being on Sat, Jan 17, 1996. The concluding duel report was recovered from David Allsopp's Killer archive with the help of Matthew Wakeling.
Today in the heart of East Anglia, a Spy War has broken out, worthy of Cold War Berlin:
The lifeless body of Jamie "Hangover" Wood was sniffed out today by a cocker spaniel taking its eleven year old owner for a walk along Bene't street. The event occurred when a partly eaten packet of Walkers Crisps fluttered in the breeze into the churchyard, to which "Peg" gave chase. Peg is said to be most distressed, and is being administered a cocktail of sedatives. A coroner determined the time of death as about ten in the morning.
I've been awoken by two mysterious shadowy figures, insisting that the public knowledge of Chuan's wanted list status, is a matter of great national urgency. Deserving of a quarter to two in the morning special treatment. Plus they gave me a bottle of Budwar! Well here goes.
At around 2 pm, another assassin knocked on the door of the room of the late Daniel Costich. Ivan "Vulture" Parks, believing this to be a golden opportunity to acquire another dead body, unwisely opened it and charged out wielding a curved dagger. He fell in a hail of bullets from Chuan-Tze "Anarchy" Teo's submachine gun. Tim Deegan, a non-player, but one of Parks' associates, was hit by several stray bullets and killed. The ghost of Daniel Costich, when interviewed by several of Cambridge's leading mediums later that afternoon, was said to be "relieved". MI5 is investigating the latest in a series of late Secret Service agents. The police wish to interview Chuan, about a placement in the morgue.Tim earlier this morning (v. early in fact) announced his intention to get back on the streets as a cop and kick some wanted list butt. This followed a RoboCop style damage limitation operation in which part of Tim's brain was saved and placed within a Titanium cased robot for use in conjunction with a P-90 chip. Unfortunately, someone installed Windows '95 as his operating system, and Tim is said to be seriously screwed up.
Jamie "Hangover" Wood met his end on receiving multiple stab wounds, from an unwitnessed assassin. A coroner reported the time of death as ten o'clock Wednesday morning. The lifeless corpse was found by a cocker spaniel, "Peg", who today is said to be making great recovery after yesterday's shock.
Apparently the earliest kill, this message was received via an e-mail bouncer, from the wanted criminal Martin Read, on Wednesday evening.
-- REPORT TO M.I.6 FOLLOWS. PRIORITY ONE. --
At approximately 8:53 am this morning, I used my trusty .25 calibre Beretta to end the life of Miss Lynnette Maxine Dray, an unarmed and temporarily innocent member of the Assassins' Guild from Gonville and Caius College. I terminated her, despite her not being one of my designated targets, because she had insulted me last night, calling me a sad boring bastard. I shot her twice at close range with the Beretta, causing almost instantaneous death. Her striped-jumpered body made a pleasing pattern on the tarmac outside of the Chemistry Department, Lensfield Road.
I am fully aware that my actions will make me a wanted criminal. However, anyone who is not on the ball and in range of my pistol deserves to be shot, for their own safety, especially if they insulted me while I was drunk.
-- REPORT ENDS. MORE MAY FOLLOW. GOD SAVE THE QUEEN! --
Report from Martin Peter Read (G&C Coll, K8 Harvey Ct.)
Victim: Lynnette Maxine Dray (G&C Coll, B50 Harvey Ct.)
Weapon: Supersoaker 50 (keychain)
Venue: Outside Lensfield Rd. Chemistry labs.
Time: 8:53 am, 25 October 1995
Motive: Revenge for an insult
* Please post all of this, I want to be famous *
Obviously megalomaniacal tendencies.
Shots at point blank range redistributed information only just stored away in a Geology lecture over the windows of the Scott Polar Research Institute. The Institute is now completely narked at the clean-up job it keeps having to perform every term, and has requested that spies blow each others brains out over the Chemistry building instead.
The brain in question this time belonged to a Daniel Costich. The vandal who scattered the grey matter over the Institute's windows was one Anthony Peter James, acting to pre-empt Dan who had been trying to locate Anthony, for similar vandalism.
At around 2 pm, another assassin knocked on the door of the room of the late Daniel Costich. Ivan "Vulture" Parks, believing this to be a golden opportunity to acquire another dead body, unwisely opened it and charged out wielding a curved dagger. He fell in a hail of bullets from Chuan-Tze "Anarchy" Teo's submachine gun. Tim Deegan, one of Parks' associates, was hit by several stray bullets and killed. The ghost of Daniel Costich, when interviewed by several of Cambridge's leading mediums later that afternoon, was said to be "relieved". MI5 is investigating the latest in a series of late Secret Service agents, and wish to reassure the killer, that tonight he shall rest in peace.
Sidhartha Shanker "Black Death" Singh was shot once in the heart, then double-tapped just outside his room in Robinson, Wedneday morning. The killer made a clean escape.
Matthew Charles was today found at his desk, apparently asleep, but with a seriously modified heart. A coroner later gave a verdict of 'lead poisoning'.
The ghost of the wanted criminal Martin Read, in a seance held earlier this evening gave "Six" this report.
-- REPORT TO M.I.6 FOLLOWS. PRIORITY ONE. --
At approx 1640 hours today, Mr. Andrew Eakins (G&C Coll, A13 Harvey Ct.) killed me using a self-loading pistol of unknown calibre shortly after I had poisoned his doorknob and lockplate. He then had his doorknob cleaned with a large volume of poison-resistant paper. At the time of shooting I had just packed away my contact poison and cotton buds, and my .25 calibre Beretta was safely stored in a pocket.
Several individuals witnessed this shooting, mainly residents of 'A' Block, Harvey Court.
-- REPORT ENDS. I HAVE DISCHARGED MY DUTY SO FAR AS I AM ABLE. --
Catherine Donnelly was found alongside John Lee, in the sediment of the Cam today, by a Japanese tourist out punting. The punt pole became lodged, and when the pole was finally pulled free, John and Catherine finally came up from a night spent underwater. They soon plummeted down again, however, due to their sporting a new line in concrete wellies.
Our agent gave us this debriefing:
Mr. Paul Ralph Syred met his demise at 5.15 GMT this very evening. Waiting outside his room for the right moment he announced in a very lod voice that he was going to check his E-mail so I only had to wait a few minutes before he descended the stairwell which had a convenient place to lurk at the bottom. As he was leaving the building a short burst of gunfire straight in the back of the head and his final thoughts went through his mind, followed by some bullets... By the time his neighbour was on the scene all she found was his still flailing body in a pool of blood no clues at the scene of the crime except that it was the work of a pro....
On Wednesday an enemy agent drilled the Czech friendly agent, just in from Prague, Pavel Kolouch, in the head. He barged into Pavel's penthouse suite screaming 'Zemji pyeno!' [Czech: 'Die scum!'] and shot him in the torso, spine and forehead, killing him instantly.
Before Ivan Frederick Parks dissection at the hand of Anarchy, he himself neutralised Rosalind Selby.
At ~17:30 on Wednesday, Matthew "Z" Wellberry-Smith shot Sonia Odette Lewycka in the neck, while Jenny Ridler, froze horrified.
Last night on the way back from the Computing Society consciousness lecture, one of a group of agents, for whom the tension was critically bubbling below the surface, suggested that an attempt by one of them to kill another would be suicide. Dave Holland, deciding to test this proposal, instantly ripped out his AK 47 and ploughed through all but one of his competitors. The terrorist known only as the Lizard pulled off a few rounds before succumbing to the gunfire herself. These rounds lodged in Dave's temple, spleen and spinal cord sending him where he'd sent the others. The agents are reputed to be having a wild time down in hell, and generally putting Satan in his place.
This report from our man in Fitzwilliam:
I am proud to report that Mr Jong-Won Lee of P5 Old Court Fitzwilliam will not be able to take over the SIS as he had planned due to an encounter with myself, a huge machine gun and several high velocity rounds.
I approached Fitzwilliam from the South at approximately 4:15pm, planning to surprise Mr Lee by coming out of the sun. Fortunately this was not required as Mr Lee was on the floor when I entered his room doing some strange arcane ritual involving cards of some description.
Upon entering his room (which he had sadly!!?? left unlocked) I took aim and fired. But! My gun jammed. Fortunately I was able to unjam it before Mr Lee could take any offensive action at which point I blew his head off and then for good measure coshed it with my handy truncheon.
-- MESSAGE FROM M.I.6 CYBERNETICS RECOVERY ROOM --
-- SENT AT REQUEST OF AGENT 0094 MARTIN READ --
-- MESSAGE FOLLOWS. PRIORITY ONE --Having had full police cybernetic head reconstruction surgery this morning following my extensive cranial injuries yesterday afternoon, I am now ready to join the internal police force as soon as is humanly possible i.e. after your supervisions, "C".
Please put me on the police roster ASAP. I want to kill this nutter called Anarchy, it sounds like a fun thing to attempt.
-- MESSAGE ENDS. AWAITING ORDERS. GOD SAVE THE QUEEN! --
Content: Police enrolment request
From: Martin Peter Read
"Six" received this report from one of our more prolific agents!
John Gardner (Z Blue Boar Ct., Trinity) and Rosemary Sexton (Z9 Blue Boar Ct., Trinity) have been eliminated due to rather foolishly holding weapons whilst I was nearby. Well, actually, in Rosie's case, I just said "here, hold this", handed her a cosh, and shot her with a water pistol; John came into the Kitchen and said "well, I've got my water pistol", to which I responded "Oh? can I see it?" He obliged and I promptly shot him with mine. Two cases of terminal incaution, I think. I'll send you a slightly more interesting dramatized account of events to date tommorrow, when I'm slightly more awake. I look forward to hearing from you about my new targets in due course. Many Thanks God Save the Queen.
Moscow has released the following report on its Smerch agent:
At 21:00 hrs today, using the cover of the dark, I crept into Caius Harvey Court. Fate had decided that Ben Waldron should not live past 21:10. On the way up the stairs I passed a man who looked untroubled by the nastier things the world has to offer. Little did I now that this was another assassin, who had mastered the art of pulling a straight face. I continued up and knocked on Ben's door. The words, "Who is it?", came from the other side of the door. I set the poor blighter at ease with the classic (but not terribly sophisticated): "It's me, can I come in?". After a short pause he opened the door and died rather ungracefully.
At this point there came a bang and a sharp shock of pain as someone shot from round the corner. I spun round and dived for the nearest doorway, whilst spraying bullets randomly. A bullet had grazed my shoulder and the newcomer, who I recognised as the man from earlier on, seemed wounded too. Realizing that this was a stale mate, we called a truce and I retreated quickly to nurse my wounds for another day of killing.
Ben Turner was shot many times on return to his room by the Slimy Hog, Simon Hogley. The Hog left two witnesses unharmed, since they weren't in his contract.
Jonathan Rowland, this lunchtime, suffered a terminal cardiac arrest after an undesired advance from Andrew Besford, witnessed by two other po-faced agents. [Submit fuller reports please, or I'll think of worse, next time!]
On her return to her Churchill room, Monika Thakur brought a successful end to The Hog's stake-out. The Hog reports the steak he cut out of her was very tender though bloody.
John "John Smith / Antichrist" Jordan received instructions at 14:30 hrs from the contact, Dr Saxl. The head of Theo Mark Honohan, clearly silhouetted against the afternoon sun, was soon scattered across the window by a .38 slug.
At 16:40 today Dave Gittins was alerted by scraping at the base of his door during the death throes of Tom Montgomery. Slinging his crossbow across his chest Dave charged out of the room, kicking the corpse out the way. Despite being confronted with a mini Sten gun, Dave's fury was such as to drive fear into the heart of the blonde-haired bespectacled "AntiChrist". Desperately trying to silence the crowd of cheering witnesses Dave leapt from tree to tree in his pursuit. At the North Court gate he fired a bolt at high speed into "John Smith" 's demonic head. Revelations (15,7).
The Hog has claimed another victim, Simon Phillip Morgan, in Pembroke. The chosen method of disposal of the cadaver has compelled the Service to issue our agent more meal tickets for the Sentinel House canteen.
Geoffery P. Tolley, cyanide pill in hand, was pre-empted by a timely encounter with "Z" of "Six". His full debriefing swiftly followed, involving the series link-up of a vacuum cleaner and a food mixer. Geoff was then actively encouraged to proceed as originally planned.
An agent, who kept to the shadows, accomplished his mission:
At approximately 17:20 hours Matthew Kendry ceased to live. I silenced his snivelling with a single shot from my trusty Magnum .44. Perhaps in an attempt to wash his sins away, the stench of death and the screams of mercy we hitmen all have to suffer, he was taking a shower. I waited patiently outside the bathroom, in the shadows of a forgotten corner. Ten long minutes elapsed before I heard clumsy wet footsteps approaching the door. He strode confidently out into the corridor. I made a noise attracting his attention. As his head turned to face me, I raised my loaded weapon and fired. I prefer a messy kill - lots of blood and pain - so I deliberately fired through his side diagonally. The bullet's path took it through both lungs and his heart, emerging on the other side to also penetrate his right arm. He fell. No witnesses, no fingerprints.
This afternoon, an attempt was made on the life of Mohammed Hassan of Emmanuel College. He unwisely opened the door to his room after two friends of his assassin knocked, making enquiries about a fictitious woman whom they believed lived on his staircase. After he'd been engaged in futile conversation for about 30 seconds, a shadowy figure passed by, pausing to loose his one and only round from his palm-sized .22. He stopped long enough to watch the bullet graze Hassan's cheek, before disappearing into the crowded streets, kicking himself for failing to calibrate his sights. Mohammed was later admitted to Addenbrookes for six stitches in his left cheek.
"The evening began with the group of Mr. Andrew Eakins, P.C. Martin Read, the spirit of John Jordan and myself setting off with a rucksack laden with explosives. I had one thing in mind, the death of a certain Mr. Teo, a deranged criminal and one of my legitimate targets. However, to test the effectiveness of the bombs I had devised, we first paid a visit to a Mr. Musgrove of Pembroke College. Having carefully wired a considerable quantity of semtex to explode upon the imminent vacation of Mr. Musgrove from his room, I discovered it to be empty (B*ST*RD!), and consequently had to carefully remove the device along with any sign of my presence.
The group then proceeded to Trinity. Missing one chance to eliminate the criminal (his door was open and he was out, but he came back before I could set a bomb) I settled for jeering at him through his window. His response was to leap out of the aforementioned window and open fire on us with a submachine gun. A second confrontation followed concluding in the timely/sad demise of Mr. Teo and myself respectively. As he walked passed the car behind which I was hiding I took it upon myself to shoot him several times in the chest with my trusty Makarov, unfortunately as he fell his fingers tightened for the final time around the trigger of his weapon, and I found myself missing an important section of the middle of my body. I understand from my fellow spirit Mr. Jordan that the porters refused to clear up the mess afterwards."
At approximately 17:30 GMT on Friday the 27th of October, a knock was heard at my door. On asking who it was, I received the reply, "I'm looking for someone." Using my not inconsiderable powers of deduction, with the aid of the spy hole on my door, I surmised that my health would not fare well if the door was opened fully and a hearty welcome expressed. With this in mind, I selected "SIX", opened the door a short way, with my handy plasma rifle now at the ready, and
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^.
A torusful of plasma was exchanged, but neither party was fatally wounded.
John Jordan had the disrespect to splatter the cranial matter of Theo Honohan over Trumpington in his copy of Varsity, at just after 15:30 in the afternoon. Trumpington, on hearing of this nefarity, was most upset, considering the splendid afternoon tea, that Theo was then enjoying, and wishes to urge that assassins shoot each other at more socially fitting hours.
Concerning our dead woman in New Hall:
Nasfim Haque was assasinated by an enemy agent only known to us as "Slaughterhouse". While on the phone to her parents, from the corner of her deceptive "children's-TV-presenter-like-eyes" she perceived three vagabondish males, clearly dazzled by the concept of a single-sex college, wandering clumsily through C block. The conversation ended on the phone and Nasfim retreated back to her room, triumphant that she was going back to Cardiff for the weekend, away from this vile and brutal Spy Circuit. Five minutes later, there was a cacophonous knock on the door, a brief conversation followed, discussing the whereabouts of "Rachel Jones"....
Death didn't bother her - it was the fact that others were still alive.
At 21:57 Tania Smith infiltrated Catz bar with silenced pistol concealed beneath her post-formal-hall gown and in front of inebriated witnesses terminated Chris Stirling.
"Z" of "Six" lost his beloved father in a shoot-out in which an attacker, yet to identify himself, removed an important section of W-S senior's middle body, before "Z" extracted revenge by adding some unwanted lead to an important section of the attacker's upper body. More on this when the attacker is identified.
David Gittins calling by a massive party two doors down from Anita Ahuja's room, in one smooth motion, pulled out his crossbow and loaded it before raising it to point at her heart and firing.... The splattered blood killed the party a bit but he stayed around anyway and grooved to the music to celebrate.
Information just in from the morgue, suggests from "Z" 's attacker's dental records, the identity of James "Slaughterhouse" Lamb.
Richard Windram, while employing his Silicon Graphics Workstation to cycle through the Pentagon's Database entry codes, was fed some data himself, including some 10 kV spikes of potential difference between his temples.
Jong Won received a strange e-mail at noon on the 25th, requesting him to provide a warm 'reception' for some people from out of town, and was given particular emphasis on 'taking care' of them. He later received some implicit messages which he interpreted as death threats. Hmm, he thought, "Have I written any books denouncing any extremist religions lately?" That evening he was in his room trying to forsee the future in his magic (The Gathering (TM)) cards, when the door quitely opened and a polite looking man appeared, and whipped out his .45 gauge shot gun. "Don't shoot", Jong appealed, but the man showed no mercy in his eyes as he pulled the trigger. Misfire! Hope flared for a moment in Jong's eyes; but desperation returned quickly as the cold killer pumped up his weapon, with quick efficient strokes, like a machine, and shot him. Blood decorated the walls in a designer art look, then the killer, just to be sure, got a trunchion and hit the cadaver repeatedly over the head. With a final satisfied smile he left the horrific scene....
Richard Clive Allen, being neighbourly, tried to help a lost "accomplice" find his way. He was stabbed, believed on behalf of a foreign power, in the lower duodenum, then the vena cava. He bled to death in his corridor, while trying to crawl to a phone, presumably for help.
"Archduke Baalarizaaf" left Thomas Carter a deliberately slow acting contact poison, giving Tom time to call by for the antidote. Insulted by Tom's snubb, The Archduke, donned the outfit of a night porter, and shot him just to make sure.
Here is the first report of many from a Northern Irish terrorist (who's temporarily out of work due to the ceasefire).
At approximately 3-15pm today I left my bomb shelter in search of my first victim. As I walked through the courts of St. Johns, I felt the killer passion rising in me as my heartbeat raced in anticipation of the kill. On arriving at the bottom of D staircase in Cripps Court I checked to see that he would be there, the "he" being none other than Robert Ian Johnstone. I paced the stairs and pulled out my standard issue Irish green revolver and headed towards his door - somewhere a trumpet played! I faced his door and realised the passion filled music was coming from none other than his door. A firm knock was all that remained between his music and his death. As he unwisely answered his door, he briefly caught a glimpse of the blood red lipstick on the cold blooded smile and the red leather gloves clasping the loaded weapon. He jerked backwards, but it was futile - the pain already sending messages to his brain as his heart failed to beat again. All that remained was his limp body on the floor, a trumpet not far from his side - a sign to all that no one is safe when there is a Northern Irish terrorist about.
Mark Pearson, removed Miss A. Sassin from this planet, nay vaporised her, with the employment of a small nuclear device, that detonated on her opening the door. The blast seems to have been confined to 6m, and the cream of Cambridge's nuclear physicists are currently on the scene to analyse this phenomenom.
A report just in:
Today at approximately twenty to twelve I heard keys jangling outside my room. There was a knock. I knew it was an assassin, the question was how to tackle him. Head on is always best. I opened the door inwards with my right hand my Magnum in my left. This was no messanger this was an assassin. In a blur of action I started firing point blank into his chest as he whiped his hand behind his back and drew out a small calibre pistol. In the following exchange of fire no clear winner was certain. The assassin who was said to be of a dark complexion was last seen running through Cripps as the target attempted to trace whether a room key had been signed out of the porters lodge. If the assassin wants to name the place I will face him again mano a mano but he will probably prefer to sculk in corridors and rest for a while.
This is your man in Cripps signing off.
"Shadow" was sat quietly at his desk near the window, trying to master Dynamics, when he espied a strange figure peering round his curtain. He instantly knew something was up. As soon as the figure saw Shadow looking towards him, he vanished. The door handle was then tried tentatively. But Shadow had an escape route planned. He climbed out of the window and followed stealthily behind his 'visitor', James William George Peplar of Selwyn. Just as James was about to leave, he turned to see Shadow and we both fired. James's gun did not have the range to match Shadow's .44 and he fell to the floor, his blood pooling darkly about him (and making a bloody mess of the corridor!).
Rupert Wood had been looking forward to some rest after a weekend in the middle of nowhere, for military training - he got it. His higher level cognitive abilities dulled by lack of sleep, he opened his door when the fateful knock came. A small pink <1mm calibre pellet penetrated his left eye, wiping out his cranial automatic life sustaining abilities. The Hog, his killer, pocketed a Gerber Mark II combat knife from Rupert's belt. This is believed to be the Hog's seventh victim, and by all reports he is hungry for more.
Matthew Sill returned to his room, about seven, opened the door and settled at his desk ready to appease his supervisor. Unknown to him he was already a living corpse. On the second question, a numb feeling made its presence known in his writing hand. Shaking his wrist, he attempted to write again. But the feeling spread up his arm, and his vision became unfocussed. Tipping himself out of his chair, he crawled over to the mirror, where his face was already turning blue. He groped at his face, but his fingers felt like melons. He vomited, but to no avail, the poison had not entered that way, and would not so leave....
Ian Leif Koxvold also fell victim to contact poison.
The partially dissolved remains of Lawrence James Fletcher were today discovered by a group of punters trying to pull the punt boat up the rollers.
This afternoon Kevin ("I think I'm untouchable") Backhouse came to a sad and sorry end by the side of the Cam at the hands of Phil King. After hours of stalking the dark alleys around the boathouses Phil eventually came upon his victim as he prepared for the afternoon outing. Kevin was so surprised to see a Jesuan in Trinity territory, he had no time to cry out before being shot through the head.
On the night of the 30th October, one Amit Patel of 45 Gostlin St. Catz, was brutally blown to pieces by Sue, The Masked Avenger. An accomplice of hers was inadvertently hit by some shrapnel and his life now balances on a sharp knife edge.
On the evening of Saturday, a stealthy figure, accompanied by two accomplices, was, unbeknownst to Simon Osindero, creeping around his home turf at Fitzwilliam. One of the accomplices walked with blatant sexuality and smouldering intent into the said, lately deceased's, room, to inform him that a beautiful blond girl was waiting at the Porter's Lodge to greet him (for, she said, it was her that had let her in). Upon leaving his domestic arrangements, Simon was shot mercilessly and felled with a hail of bullets straight at the head. He was heard to shout, in a bemused voice as the masked assassin fled the scene "Does this mean that there isn't any girl?"
Mr Randeep, identified by his turban, underwent a quick and painless execution, outside the engineering department. A great shame, but there was only time for a shot in the face before he entered the lecture theatre, rather than a more satisfying torturous murder.
At approximately 22:15 on Monday the 30th of October, the body of Robin Loefwin Deitch, of Clare College, increased significantly in entropy. The Mole approached with a french horn wielding accomplice, a cunning diversionary ploy in mind, and had a quick scout around to check out the territory. His task was significantly simplified by the open door. HQ's less ethically sound tactics had obviously worked, because the late Mr. Deitch had not received his orders from enemy HQ, due to "Illness". Keep 'em coming you boys at the lab!
The body of Eilis Antonia Harron was discovered in Trinity Lane at 06:15 on Hallowe'en by a fellow rower. As she returned to meet Eilis, after collecting her bicycle from Cauis bike racks, she heard a burst of machine gun fire, followed by a skull-shattering scream as Eilis' last breath forced its way out through the ragged remains of her wind-pipe. She rushed round the corner, in time to see a dark figure cycling off towards St Johns, and the body of her friend lying headless on the pavement.
This afternoon Kevin "Loud-Happening-Bill-Kevin" Backhouse came to a sad and sorry end by the side of the Cam at the hands of Phil King. After hours of stalking the dark alleys around the boathouses, Phil eventually came upon his victim as he prepared for the afternoon outing. Kevin was so surprised to see a Jesuan in Trinity territory, he had no time to cry out before being shot through the head.
(Kevin was not inside his boat, so was within the playing arena.)
Michael Kolbl, while working on his master plan to kill three birds with one stone, was interrupted by a shadowy figure who had gained access to his room. The unholstering of a .45 Magnum prompted a dive for the balcony. While contemplating a leap to the next floor (downwards), Mike suddenly ceased to contemplate.
Gambit, our man in Churchill, filed the following missions accomplished.
I am pleased to inform you that both Mr Ronny Cheung lately of Pembroke and Mr Matthew Hockley lately of Peterhouse have departed this mortal coil.
At 5:30pm this evening I approached Mr Cheung's room with my new disguised Walther PPK, knocked once and waited. I had a tremendous cover story in case he asked who I was but instead he merely opened his door and was promptly drilled through the chest with a single shot. He died instantly.
At 5:40pm this evening I reloaded my Walther PPK in the wash closet in Mr Hockley's staircase before approaching his room. I was immediately suspicious because the lights were out and visibilty was down to three feet. Approaching Mr Hockley's door I noticed light from underneath and deduced that he was in fact in. Once again a single knock which he answered with "Who is it?". I declined to answer and instead moved to the side of the door to avoid any possible preemptive fire. However when the door opened, it was a relatively simple procedure to kill him with another single shot which hit him somewhere in the head/neck area I believe. He died instantly also.
The Hog has accomplished an eighth mission. "Six" was unhappy with the mental state of Alden Spiess. A tight mission, from which he against all odds survived, had created in his mind, the fallacy that he was a Borg. This led to his publication of state secrets on the Star Trek newsgroup. The Hog has now modified Alden's mental state to one more consistent with security within the Service.
Alex Tyler, of Clare College, died on his way back to college from Gardinia's in the middle of the street, having been approached by a shadowy figure in a trenchcoat. The aforementioned individual, having ascertained the identity of his victim, then revealed his Walther PPK and attempted to shoot him. The gun subsequently jammed, and the delay allowed Alex to attempt to escape down the street; but calmly pursued by the assassin, who then shot him in the back and the stomach.
A shoot-out between Robert Tuck and two masked strangers, become a battle of Smith & Wesson versus Plasma pistols. Robert lost by taking a hit at point blank range. Everything went black, then he saw himself floating above his body. His soul is not at rest, so he's to be reincarnated as a cop, to clear the streets of scum.
Tania Smith met a grisly fate, shot repeatedly at point blank range, in the knowledge that her friend's betrayal had been for the price of a pint.
Chris Timms and Marc-Louis Gani successfully woke Anita Ahuja and got her to come to the door after banging heavily on her door at 2.45 am. They shot a zombie, Anita having been already killed earlier.
Rule 1.2.6
Exercise common sense. Players are entirely responsible for their behaviour. In particular, avoid inconveniencing other people.
Since this was a clear case of greatly inconveniencing Anita Ahuja, the police have offered job interviews to Chris and Marc, for placements in the morgue.
What better than to quote Gareth Reagan's own words:
ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT ON G.REAGAN at 21.45 on 1/11/95
Poisoned pen letter gone wrong! Can't write too much 'cos I'm a bit pissed. In summary:
- Perfumed letter in my pigeon hole
- Addressed to my room address so obviously from Mr. Assassin.
- Suspected immediately even though pissed
- Got a friend to open my "letter" and retreated to ten metres away and asked her to read it.
- Six people dropped dead on opening the mail - none of which were me. Victims were Miss Heather Lovell, Miss Belinda Gordon, Miss Juliet Buckley and three other Emma fresher bar people.
I hope you will take the appropriate action Nigel - the letter was from
The appropriate action has again been agreed by the police :-{)
TO ALL AGENTS, Gareth Reagan is to be terminated with extreme prejudice. He once won a Bronze Medal in his County Espionnage contest, so be warned, gr10006 is armed, dangerous and has a brain.
In an act of genorousity to Gareth Reagan, remorseless murderer of six once close friends by poison-gassed letter, Marc-Louis "Yakuza" Gani disposed of the inconvenient policeman neighbour, Daniel Eliot Costich. Gareth, however, declined the offer of a sanguine partnership that followed.
Marc-Louis "Yakuza" Gani has claimed more victims, Mark Pearson and Samson Adjei of St John's and PCs Dan Costich and John Gardner of Emma and Trinity respectively. Due to a switch in room numbers, Marc's neighbour is to be considered a legal though indeliberate target for all players and police.
Mark Potter has been encouraged to extend his underwater swimming periods:
Mark Potter is sleepin' with the fishies.
I gained his confidence via a mutual friend.
We chatted for a while.
He looked away.
I drew.
He got very bloody.
And now he's sleepin' with the fishies.
It's a dog eat dog world, and he was wearing milk-bone underwear.
Mess with the best, die like the rest.
Send a new mark.
Over and Out.
Gareth Reagan, of poison-gas letter notoriety, had an encounter with the "Antichrist" who was harbingered by a .38 slug. Gareth shall be taking a vacation in Hell, waiting for a off-peak period in the Police Cryogenic Lab, before following Tim "Rajah" Down into crime-fighting.
Police Constable Ben Waldron has been viciously murdered. Two shots. Hands torn to shreds in futile attempt to shield body from blast. Smudged fingerprints found on doorhandle fail to provide identity of assailants. More anon.
Marc-Louis "Yakuza" Gani has struck again. PCs Ben Waldron, Martin Read and Lynette Dray have all succumbed to Yakuza's bullets. Security forces are being currently mobilised, from a Hereford base, and a descent on T9 Pembroke College is planned imminently.
Public Enemy number one, Marc-Louis "Yakuza" Gani, has bounced the following boast off a few satellites.
My first blood of the day was Samson. Having coaxed him out of the department I showed him my pistol before shooting him through the heart.
At around lunchtime I felt the need to penetrate the inner sanctum of Emmanuel where I somewhat uneventfully shot Dan Costich in the stomach. He died like the pig that he was, squealing and wriggling in peachy agony.
I then proceeded directly to St. John's where Mark Pearson was found, waiting in his room. Caught unusually off guard Mark was shot three times in the stomach and died gracefully in a pile behind his door. With the respect due to a fellow player I moved him to his bed, closed his eyes and left him holding a lily to his breast.
My next target was John Gardner, a policeman in Trinity, gunned down in his hallway. Having returned home to do some work I went out again at around 8:40pm and went to kill the policemen in Gonville and Caius. It seemed strange to me the number of dead people in Caius: were they tragically incompetent or just terribly unsociable culminating in shooting one another?
My first Caius cop was Ben Waldron, shot in the gut. The despicable character collapsed silently and I had to kick him out of unconciousness to hear his final death screams as I dismembered his body. The parts were then given to a nearby Medical student who then happily spent the rest of the night revising for her anatomy test the next day.
I then proceeded to catch WPC Gray as she was entering her room. She was shot through the lower right abdomen. Her dying words were, 'Kill that B**tard Martin', a sentiment I wholeheartedly agreed with. Having crucified the body of the policewoman to the wall and daubed 'I hate the pigs!' in her blood across it I went out to locate the aforementioned Martin.
I found Martin in the courtyard outside. He was a particularly tragic character who put up no defense other than a series of pleas and sobs before being shot in the gut. He reeled on the floor like a despicable animal in pain. I sat on the wall beside him watching him for five minutes before finally getting up and shooting him once in the head.
Mark Snellgrove while under the influence shot dead Mark Potter and an innocent bystander called Rosie, both from Z Blue Boar, Trinity. Mr Snellgrove was briefly on the wanted list, see later.
Mark Snellgrove continued his series of slayings claiming the lives of Nicolas "Siren" Bourbaki and PC Jonathan Gardner.
He then mercilessly shot crippled, deformed, pitiful, snivelling Tom Evans. The police would like to make clear that this in no way excuses his previous crimes.
The retirement of Simon N. Redhead took place at around 17:45. Z and an accomplice strode unconcerned into the depths of enemy territory and infiltrated the very heart of St. John's College. Mr. Redhead heard a knock at his door, and appeared, brandishing a firearm. With weaponry cunningly concealed, "Z" feigned surprise and shock, and the kind hearted assassin was fooled into lowering his weapon. BAD MOVE. His kind heart was rapidly introduced to hot lead, and as his hands raised too late to stop the bullet, his brain received a surprise visit from a further two seriously destructive bits of metal. He died with, "Revenge shall be mine!"
At approximately 2:45 p.m. the existence of one Chris Ingram of B21 Angel Court, Trinity, was suddenly brought to a violent and bloody end. The unsuspecting victim was savagely peppered in the back with ball bearings from a sawn off shotgun. The undercover operation was once again assisted by a loyal accomplice plus sister who was visiting for the weekend and wanted to know about the highbrow intellectual culture of the heart of British education. (A possible recruit for next year?)
In the same corner of New Court as was incardinined by Nicolas's temporary termination, WPC Nicolas Bourbaki pierced Mark Snellgrove's back, and sprayed the inner contents of his chest over the computer room door. The rest of the bloody mess was then dumped in the Great Court Fountain, sparking off revenge attacks on St. John's from rowers who thought that the Bumps had started early.
"L" of Six aka "Leon" paid a visit to Corpus. A knock on the door of Simon Maskell. His appearance. "Simon?" "Yes?" Two shots in the neck cut short the conversation.
On Sunday 5 November at around 1805pm, Matthew Kern of Peterhouse was sitting in his room in 5 St Peter's Terrace, discussing laundering with an acquaintance. The conversation was heard to contain surprisingly few references to washing powders or dry-cleaning solvents; his suspicions aroused, a cloaked figure entered through the door which Kern had foolishly left both unlocked and wide open. Seeing two men busy exchanging counterfeited notes, he called "Matthew" to ascertain which was his intended victim. Ever obliging, Mr Kern turned and uttered his final word, "Yes?", before his head and most of his chest was spread over the wall behind him by a burst of fire from his assassin's SA80. His acquaintance was heard to remark "You've been killed", which astute observation gave the Lord of The Nazguls (aka Jules Midgley, the killer of the Northern Irish Terrorist) some cause for uncharacteristic mirth as he returned rapidly to his winged steed.
At approximately 8pm, I got four of my tallest and most sinister looking friends to knock in an extremely ominous fashion on the Angel Court, Trinity door of the late Chris Ingram. One single (but ominous-sounding) knock later, there was a fearful "Who is it?" from inside the room. I instructed my friends not to say anything, but instead to turn up the collars on their long coats. After a pause, Chris opened the door. "Yes?", he said. My friends stared down at him. The look on Chris' face told us that it was brown-trousers time as far as his nether regions were concerned. After a fearful moment one of my friends said, in a suitably theatrically evil-sounding voice, "There's someone wants to talk to you...." Chris looked as if he'd be cacking himself by now (had his bowels had not already been empty due to my friends' appearance), so I jumped up from behind my group of friends and shot at him. But missed! He tried to shut the door; but I forced it open, struggled with him briefly, and shot him in the face.
Marc-Louis Gani has claimed more lives:
On returning from a visit to King's College Library, I returned to college and ate some more leftover cop flesh and then ventured out to replenish my larder. I almost immediately encountered PC Carter. The pig was unarmed and died rather ungracefully, first taking a bullet in the arm, then one through his heart from behind. The exit wound from his chest fertilized the nearby lawn with blood and bone fragments.
I was in the process of dragging Carter through the bar so that I could pick up a can of coke to go with my evening meal, when I came across PC Cheung. I was most surprised when Ronny buried his face in the baked potato he had just ordered, but then remembered I had just inserted a bullet into the base of his skull.
When the time was approaching ten minutes to four, Simon Maskell received a knock on the door, causing no pain. He opened it and found a man ... he didn't get his name ... who claimed he was leafletting for a random society (whose leaflet he happened to have in his pocket). Simon at first denied his name, suspecting the keen society enthusiast to be his assassin, but admitted his real identity once his confidence had been gained. The man remembered another leaflet that he had, which he had forgotten to give to Simon initially, and checked all his pockets. Had he lost it?
"Oh, I don't appear to have it. Tim, do you have a copy?" I emerged from the shadows. In the resulting shower of blood, Simon fell over to die utterly on the ground, from a gunshot wound to the chest.
As Niklas Evans strolled over the St. John's Bridge of Sighs, he applied his mind to many different things. This was done with the encouragement of a portable pressure device, employed by Colin "Gambit" Ross. Porters have now scrubbed clean these many different things so as not to upset the tourists.
David Eyre of Caius succumbed to a poisoned letter while in the dinner queue for Hall, mildly spoiling appetites.
Control:17.13 8/11/95 Judge Noakes (Lawman of the Present) reporting. At 15.45 GMT I entered Pembroke College, disguised as an ordinary student, to judge known perp Alexander Neame. As I climbed D staircase I considered my procedure, completely in control thanks to my twelve years training as a Rookie. I inserted a fresh magazine in my Lawgiver, and approached his door. I could hear Jazz music coming from his room; this creep was really racking up the offences. With my Lawgiver at the ready I knocked on his door with authority, this obviously threw him off guard, as he invited me in. I thought this guy was supposed to be vicious. I opened the door and shot him three times in the chest. Judgement executed, Court's Adjourned!
With the aid of a woman who lives there with her dog, "Vince" and an accomplice effected entry to King's College Market Hostel. Sue Griffiths returned home, to admire the precision with which contact poison was being applied. Unfortunately for her, she was also made to admire the barrel of a Colt Peacemaker. Promises of torture, of flying shurikens, were broken by a half ounce of excess pressure on the trigger.
Marc-Louis Gani was incorrectly retained on the wanted list. He is banned from the game for this term, not for malicious behaviour, but breaking rules. I recommend that he be allowed to play next term, subject to his reading the rules.
Chuan-Tse "Anarchy" Teo and Tim-Alex Down are to fight a lethal duel. Rumour has it, there's a girl involved somewhere ;->
At 5:05pm on Friday 10 November, a huge explosion was heard on the second floor of the Keynes building in King's College. An earnest King's man hurried towards the centre of devastation, in time to see two figures, one fitting the description of the Nazgul Lord, making a rapid exit. The door to room 223 had evaporated, revealing complete chaos inside. Blood and small fragments of skin were spread over all visible surfaces; DNA analysis identified the mess as the remains of Alex Holmes.
Alden "Borg" Spiess's cranial matter has again been modified to an arrangement more consistent with intra-Service security, this time not in a supervision in his room.
......jkj7jy884j3k":L&U&U>**Dya,mage report: OVERLOAD! OVERLOAD
~xxycx...Control functions A31 to G27 not respondinxgxxx..Major
Collapse In all Critical Circuits.....OVERLOAD! OVERLOAxXXXhbjh!!!
REACTOR CORE TERMINAL CONDITIOjjjyyNojy*8
.....Automated Cyberdine Update Centre Activated. Total Systems
Failure T-9 seconds. Assassin Class Borg Model 18-27-E13.16 has
taken fatal damage. Vital systems deactivated. TSF T-8. Assassin
Borg terminated on assignment THX-1138 (Low Tech World, Infiltration)
TSF T-7. Eliminated by "Free-Net" Activist Darien The Bastard.
Identity determined by cyberneticlly implanted EM scanner. TSF T-6.
Free-Net oppose us. They must be assimilated. Threat Posed -
Moderate to High. PRIORITY ONE: ELIMINATE FREE-NET; ELIMINATE FREE-NET
TSF T-5. WE ARE BORG! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE! YOU WILL BE ASSASSINATED!
TSF T-4. ELIMINATE FREE-NET! POWER TO THE MAINFRAME! TSF T-3. ELIMINATE
FREE-NET! ELIMINATE FREE-NET! TSF T-2. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE! RESISTANCE
IS FUTILE! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE! TSF T-1. POWER TO THE MAINFRAME!
WE ARE BORG! YOU WILL BE AS......................................
CYBERDINE SYSTEMS REPORT. BORG ASSASSIN DRONE 18-27-E13.16 FAILED. NO
FURTHER COMMUNICATIONS. PROJECT THX-1138 SHELVED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
DARIEN THE BASTARD NOTED AS TARGET. TIME IS IRRELEVANT. HIS WILL COME.
On Friday evening, Lorna Booth received an envelope that said to her "officialdom". Pulse racing, she carefully opened same. Within were various politically sensitive papers. On their extraction, however the King's College mail room quickly developed a large temperature and pressure gradient. Firemen later at the scene found small slivers of schrapnel out of which the calling card "CT" had been punched. The remains of the documents are now in our safe hands undergoing analysis.
"Arkansas" has struck back. Tired of crawling between lairs to evade the police, this wanted criminal has begun a mission to remove the police force. First hit was Alex Neame of Pembroke, bringing his bare-chested parading to a close. Amit Patel of Catz followed soon after. Three people in Geoff Tolley's St John's room were comprehensively disassembled. Dental records are being compared to determine identities and hence Geoff's current health. More on that soon.
At around 6pm on Sunday, Liam John McGee ceased to exist. A visitor to his room on discovering his absence, moved towards a position of surveillance. A figure passed and unlocked the room of interest, leaving it open for a a fraction too long. An elegant lady sidling past perusing a slightly worn leatherbound hardback copy of Tolstoy's War and Peace, angled the spine towards the entranceway. A light twisting of the covers, a single click, a dull thud, these conspired to pierce the vena cava. Blood spurted out with fatal rhythm. It was but a moment before Liam succumbed to gravity.
Arkansas has continued, issuing compulsory redundancy to Trin., PC Mark Snellgrove.
Forensic analysis has revealed that among the homogenous paste found in PC Geoff Tolley's St. John's safehouse were his roommate, his girlfriend and a mutual friend. Geoff, still very much alive, suggests that future would-be assassins make an appointment if they wish to expect his presence, and, ever practical, has made one for Arkansas with a funeral director.
Infamy requires redefinition in the wake of Arkansas. As the smoke still lingers from Sunday night's whirlwind of power and pain, Arkansas is back in the frey making life for the Force rather shorter than usual. So many had it that the 14:32 kill of PC Snellgrove would calm the sadistic lust of this beast.... Monday evening saw another spate of vicious police oriented attacks. First, Nick de Candole, ex of Catz, encountered naked in his room and shot in the back. Just how low will this creature stoop? Swiftly afterwards, Trin., PC Mark Potter. Mourners wishing to see Mark's body before he is laid to rest will notice half missing. However, the police have kindly arranged for a special showing of Mark's Student Railcard Photo.
We then traced Arkansas' steps to King's college, where decorating the exterior of Alex Holmes's room, rotted five cadavers. Among them Alex himself and Sue Griffiths, both irreplaceable members of the local constabulary. Evidence suggests Alex had realised the purpose of his visitor before opening the door and had been pre-armed. In the gun-fight, blood spats rather unpleasantly stained the carpet, for which Kingsian lawyers are already pressing to sue. Alex ceased resistance when a bullet richocheted off the light fitting and lodged itself firmly in his left temple. Four rather startled friends rounded the corner, to serve as cannon fodder. Among them Sue.
In Tit Hall, Arkansas later left two civilian 'presents' for WPC Clare Izard.
On Monday 13th November @ 22:00 hrs, Miss Pia Cecilia Marie Enoizi, coccooned in her room, protected by two burly bodyguards, appreciated the fatal incaution of leaving her key in the door. Speed and fluidity of motion proved its worth, when the balaclava clad Phil King raced in through the door, double-tapped his mark and effected window exit, leaving the bodyguards' concealed daggers still in their scabbards.
In a believed case of identity mistaken for that of Ben Harris, a civilian was ventilated in Botolph Lane, yesterday afternoon. Leads are being chased up, and you shall be briefed on any developments.
Mr and Mrs RoboCop Down were chatting over orange juice, in their honeymoon suite, when Marc-Louis Gani announced himself at the door, ostensibly looking for the wallet he'd left behind at coffee the night before. This provided surprise entry for Arkansas, another challenger for the "Siren" 's attention, whose instant fatal attraction brought an end to WPC Nicolas Bourbaki's career. A brief stand-off between Arkansas and PC Down then occurred. Later, Tim repaid Chris a visit, assisted in his endeavours by colleagues attired in a deeper shade of blue. Their interest in his jacketed Luger and plastic explosives discomforted him mildly.
Misty morning, Free School Lane deserted save the scurrying figure of Chris "Arkansas" Timms and an accomplice of unknown allegiance. The bells peeling of ten o'clock signalled his last breath, before meeting the multitude in the next world seeking revenge. His jugular was slit by trusty knife. It was messy. It was fun. The only witness was blinded, bloody eyes from the spurting vein reddening the cobblestones. Our agent, Evil C, promises to provide further instructive examples.
Tim "SD" Waugh, aka Gaspode the Wonder Dog, was developing post-its with a layer of contact poison, which did not curl the paper, when John Lee, an innocent civilian, naively picked one up bare-handed, thus putting his guardian on to the wanted list. Tim, realising the consequences, quickly set off after the police force, aiming to catch them off guard. First hit, Tim Down, caught on exit from a CompSci lecture. Witnesses report Gaspode's foraging through the Rajah's jacket for missed lecture notes. Later examination from a coroner, revealed some fatal wounding, dating from the evening before, that the Rajah had apparently failed to notice. The stand-off between him and Arkansas had in reality been an exchange of bullets lethal to both men.
Nick Jones on checking his pigeonhole, found an unexpected letter in decidedly scruffy condition. He managed to make a bemused friend open the letter and read it to him. A story about Henry of Thomas the Tank Engine celebrity followed, with the last line disjointedly referring to the liberal smearing of contact poison on the letter.
Getting other people to open your mail/door for you will make you responsible for them (unless you have a good explanation).
Nick is now on the wanted list. You all know your jobs.
The kill of the civilian outside Ben Harris's window has been confirmed as one of the late Arkansas's jobs.
Gaspode's snarling and renting briefly continued with the lethal mauling of Mike Nonweiler, an innocent civilian, and then an attempt on the life of The Darien. All his dreams of ultimate victory were smashed into fine grained ice as Darien's several salvos of semi-automatic fire created a Slush Puppy.
A newspaper that Timothy James John Musgrove was reading was damaged slightly this afternoon when a bullet fired from long range with a .44 sniper rifle pierced it. Fortunately passers-by were shielded from any continuation of its path... by Tim's brain.
Girtonian Emma Bewley seated at her college formal hall, last night, managed to survive the spiced mackerel and chicken korma served up in an attempt to reduce the number of students cluttering up the facilities. On Emma's leaving the hall somewhat paralytic, our woman in Christ's brutally employed a sharp blade to substantially further reduce Emma's mobility.
The two day old, disembowelled, puffed-up remains of Johnsian PC Brian Cowe, were today encountered by porters careful not to admit naked flames, after neighbours had complained of a stench that lingered even after the bin outside his door had been emptied. The claw marks unambiguously identify this as one of the late Gaspode's maulings.
Jeremy Longley of Selwyn received a knock on his door around 5pm on Saturday. He answered it to find a curious individual asking how he might find his way to Trinity (he was from some other university, and so had some excuse for being so appallingly lost). Unfortunately Mr Longley failed to see through this rather weak decoy, which was a shame, because the decoy was Andrew Midgely, brother of the Lord Of The Nazguls. Jeremy's regurgitation of the Cambridge A-Z was cut short midway along West Road by two bullets from the Nazgul's Smith and Wesson, leaving the only witness to the incident decorated with Mr Longley's intestines. Distress caused by Selwyn's food in Hall does not compare with wearing it semi-digested.
Rajat Malhotra's body was discovered in his Trinity room around 6:30pm on Sunday, by a friend who had come to help him microwave a hotdog. Rajat's hotdogging days had reached a crimson, but regrettably ketchupless, conclusion only minutes beforehand when 17 rounds from the Nazgul's SA80 introduced his left shoulder to his right via his spinal column, heard vainly to protest that it didn't take callers without appointments.
There's no stoppin' what can't be stopped.
There's no killin' what can't be killed.
You can't see the eyes of the demon,
Till the demon, he comes a callin'.
This thing thats killin' your people an' mine,
Is from de other side.The predator has claimed a victim. David Hugh-Jones was found stretched out over his bed in Jesus. His legs had been shot to shreds and his head seemed to be, well, not there.
Remember the predator is invisible.
Rivalry in Trinity boiled over the edge briefly when Darien-Graham Smith and The Predator were matched against each other. But Darien was caught off guard and victory swiftly came to The Predator, mini-Sten gun style, who afterwards catapulted Darien's head into cyberspace via his computer monitor.
The University Worship of Cthulhu Society Formal Hall, tonight witnessed a fitting dessert, when Miss Pauline Aldabra Stoddart was kindly directed to the ladies' loo in Clare Cellars but then there sacrificed to the Great Old One by murderous hands.
Jay Foad's headless corpse was found wrapped in his duvet by his bedder at 8:30 on Tuesday morning. She took this surprisingly well, remarking glibly "that's one less bin to empty in the mornings", but was admitted to Addenbrookes with severe shock after catching a glimpse of the Nazgul on his way out.
At 18:15 last night, "Sid" heard stealthy attempt to open his door. Quietly grabbing his assault rifle (some feat considering the sheer mass of this heavy duty weapon) he violently opened the door and fired. A welcoming bullet lightly grazed his cheek. The Hog, his assailant, dived out of the way round the corner. Impasse. Risk to kill or live a coward? Keeping his would-be assassin talking about the relative merits and concealability of the tools of their trade, "Sid" rounded the corner at floor level. Shots flew over his head, but ceased when large holes started appearing in The Hog's anatomy. A search conducted, revealed the identity of Simon Hogley, Trinity College, VISA no. 2435 1049 7342 6845, expiry date 22/11/95.
An attempt on the lives of several A-Blockers of Harvey Court, Caius on the night of 21st November. The door handles of these people had been smeared with an unidentified toxin which takes effect on contact with bare skin. Only one fatality has been reported, that of PC James Lawrence. Having returned from hall at approximately 19:20, James went straight to his room, unlocking and opening the door without touching the handle. Unaware of the toxin's presence, he then left his room to pay a visit to his colleague PC Jordan on the floor above. On arriving there, he first knocked on the door. Receiving no reply, he tried the door handle only to find a viscous pale green substance transferred to the palm of his hand. A solemn service (College bar piss-up) will be held in memory of PC Lawrence this Friday.
"Pocket Rocket" paid a visit to a local tree surgeon before dropping by unannounced on Pembroke's Paul Asbury. Paul very enthusiastically vacated his room, on The Rocket's entry through the window, bearing a gift of fast rotating teeth, but became a permament fixture of his oak wooden stairwell at the chainsaw's suggestion.
The killer of PC James Lawrence has been identified as one Andrew Eakins of Caius. Slaughter unrestrainedly.
Eric Ling is out of practice with his ninja throwing stars. An attempt lodged in the arm of PC Michael Kolbl, rendering his arm temporarily inactive, but no follow-up attack occurred. Police wish to have words with our Eric. Stir fry with extreme prejudice.
Our man in Selwyn gives this ray of light for his fellow agents:
After strolling casually round the grounds of Jesus college, I stumbled upon the room of a Mr James Carmichael. I walked past his doorway and on up the stairs, noting the presence of a person crouched out in the hallway inspecting something obviously with great interest. I proceeded on upstairs to use the bathroom and to ensure that my trusty pistol was loaded and in working order. On my return downstairs there was no-one to be seen, so I approached my victim's door stealthily. At 3.15pm I burst into the room and fired my weapon straight at my victim who was sat down opposite. Unfortunately it mis-fired, giving him time to grab at his poisoned-dart gun and dive for cover. Cowardice never pays, however, and it became a simple matter to bury several bullets deep into his upper torso. He sank back onto the floor with a "rabbit-in-the-headlights" expression on his face and a slight croak. Murder is more glorious than suicide.
It gives me great pleasure to inform the world of the demise of that eminent Pembrokian, Toby Wiseman, late Wednesday evening. Some folks are really too trusting - leaving doors open and weapons halfway across the room hardly seems to follow company policy. A clean shot through the skull did the trick nicely, and the assassin and her sibling accomplice (sorority in notoriety) made their swift and anonymous escape.
Kieran West of Christ's fell foul of a note that said "Ni!" also covered in a long-lasting readily-absorbed toxin, that seriously affected his enzyme balance.
The knock at the door turned out to be Chris Tucker, a student in need of a project supervisor. Harry Manifavas asked what field of the black art the young man wished to study and looked somewhat surprised at the response. A knife through the heart wasn't really his speciality. He writhed in his own blood as the assassin made his getaway.
Suicidal thoughts turned to rage for Caian Political Hitman Dominic Foster, as he sighted The Antichrist, the Mephistopheles of his road to moral ruin. Wishing to cleanse away the decay of his soul, he passed a silver bullet through the cranium of the beast. In church confession later, the extent of the lightening of his spirit was, "I guess that makes me a wanted criminal now, cool!"
Gambit, our man in Churchill, has found it necessary to shoot PC Mike Pitt, who interfered with some 'weapons research' he was conducting for his next assignment. PC Pitt's colleagues wish to assist Colin Ross's research and would like to present him with some weapons of their own for examination from a suitable angle.
Joe "Phoenix" Pierce strolling, his thoughts themselves ambling far away, espied the approaching figure, PC Richard Allen with a friend in tow. Joe doffed his hat, coiling his wrist, before deftly flicking it. The razor-sharp steel brim made short work of the policeman's jugular vein. A small calibre pistol included the witness in the proceedings, before Joe pulled out his hat, replaced it on his head, and continued on his way with a contented hum. Other policeman wish to distribute Phoenix's thoughts more widely.
At Anglia this morning, there was further bloodshed, when Timothy Cowper garrotted Sam Chung. Police will be led in their campaign to bring this man to justice^H^H^H^H^H^H^H the cemetary, by the resurrection PC Sam Chung.
Dominic Foster's brutal assault on PC John "Antichrist" Jordan last night has nurtured an insatiable bloodlust. Hungry, he went to take on Mr Andrew Eakins. Dominic forewarned Andrew of his murderous intentions, just to see the fear in his eyes. As Andrew blanched Dominic grinned maniacally splattering him with a torrent of bullets.
PC Mike Kolbl shot briefly wanted criminal Eric Ling in the head, just after lunch at Robinson. Having first taken pains to ensure his adversary was unarmed, Mike pulled out two revolvers and chased Eric up some stairs into an open courtyard, until where quite considerately for the cleaners he waited to fire.
At 6:05pm on Thursday 23 November, the Predator returned to his lair with thoughts of dinner on his mind. He opened his door, and his head and shoulders disappeared. His thoughts were slow to catch on, and hung in mid-air as the rest of his body crumpled beneath them. A few moments later they caught up with proceedings, and duly evaporated, leaving a faint odour of Trinity Dining Hall behind them. Analysis of the still steaming remains by "Six"'s forensic team determined that the body belonged to Andrew Somers of Trinity. Bullets from both the Nazgul's SA80 and one of the Predator's own pistols were found in the corpse.
Trin. rivalry again boiled over when Tim Bramham attacked Clive Ponsonby in the Burrell's Field Computer Room with half of the back of his notepad, leaving Clive feeling out of sorts for the evening. Seeking revenge, Clive staked out the Quantum Leap Mailing List meeting. Upon Timothy's exit and subsequent amble home along Jesus Lane, Clive manoeuvered into position behind him. Just in time, Tim swivelled to confront his stalker. A struggle ensued, but Tim's unarmed combat skills proved to be no match for Clive's switchblade.
In view of the approaching end of term, I have decided to as originally stated kill off violators of the three day rule, rather than put them on the wanted list, an alternative that Paul Menage suggested to me. The game has had close to two hundred players, and so a lot of dead-wood has accumulated. Those that I have killed off did not make an attempt and then report it to me, during the period between midnight on Sunday and Friday morning. So timewise I was being genorous. I shall provide a graphic report of their suicides shortly.
The Spymaster
"C" of "Six"
Mr Tickle, "Six"'s enemy agent debriefing man, today received a letter purporting to be from the NHS.
I have succumbed to a subtle contact poision attempt involving a very impressive fake envelope pretending to be a letter from the NHS which, considering I have had flu recently, I fell for. The contact poison was also very subtle, since it wasn't immediately noticeable and hadn't soaked into the envelope or paper. I got a friend to get my mail and I think he had a lucky escape as a slight amount of the contact poison was smeared on the outside of the clear window in the envelope. I read it when I got back from my boating outing early that morning. Methinks ex-crew members will be slightly upset to find that sudden agonising death has deprived them of a crew member the day before the novice regatta. My absence at the pasta-pack tonight will probably alert them, but my body (lying on my bed as that was where I opened my mail) may not be found until tomorrow morning when I have arranged with one of my friends to be woken up for a rowing outing.
At about 6:15 tonight, a wild eyed and ginger haired assassin in a slightly untraditional white shirt was waiting in David Gittins' Emmanuel staircase. David's careless mind was on other things as he strode towards his door. "You're David, aren't you?" "AARRGGHH!" A large knife was uncompromisingly thrust into David's heart and twisted round a good few times. As David lost consciousness, the orgasmically happy assassin waved the bloodstained knife around and grinned madly before running off into North Court.
Police have tonight been piecing together the widely distributed arms of Robert "Pocket Rocket" Tesh, after individual fingers started turning up in the students' college pigeonholes all over Cambridge.
PC Mike Kolbl was sat quietly admiring his barren inbox, when Joe "Phoenix" Pearce stealthily crept up behind him. As Mike's head started to turn, Joe relieved him of it with one of the blades of his double-headed axe. He then proceeded to administer a much needed haircut with the clean and very sharp edge.
Timothy Cowper answered his door at 5:45pm on Friday 24 November to an attractive girl purporting to bring a present from a friend. He was surprised when he failed to recognise either the girl or her friend, who appeared from a dark alley and shot him several times through the chest and head. The Nazgul's calling card was found on the corpse.
Matthew Wellberry-Smith, "Z" of "Six", returned home to find a silk brassiere draped over the handle of his unlocked door. Eager to enter his room to discover the significance of this item he pressed his hand against the handle. A relative of ricin quickly permeated his palm and entered his bloodstream. "Z"'s passion for life was soon extinguished.
Trin. Mark Davey succumbed to a poisoned letter, and was later given a thorough dissection by Evil C. His many "Top-Gun" memorabilia, including his sig-file, shall be distributed among his kith and kin.
Psi division made contact with the psyche of Caian Judge Ben Noakes.
" Whilst taking some well earned R & R after 24 hours on the streets judging the perps there came a knock at my door. Security is tight in official accommodation, but I was cautious until I recognised the voice of fellow Judge Usher. I allowed her to enter my quarters; she said "sorry I've got to do this", and shot me. May her name be removed from the Role of Honour, and she be hunted down and judged. I die knowing that I served my city well, but that I had many years of service left in me before I needed to take the Long Walk. "
Anglian Robert Tesh made the foolish mistake of coming within a one mile radius of his Trinity girlfriend's room. As he climbed the stairs he didn't notice a movement in the shadows. He didn't notice anything much after that since his sight was obscured by cranial absorption of a bullet. Z Staircase Blue Boar Court had only just been decorated, but hint of brain's a much nicer colour anyway....
" I didn't quite know how to break it to my pal Ben that it was time for him to see the wrong side of a water pistol. But a gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do, and I decided to make it as quick and painless as possible. His initial welcoming smile turned to a confused expression as I brought out my weapon; after the shot there were only a few seconds of writhing agony and then it was all over. I closed the door, and smiled as I thought of how becoming my black outfit would look at his funeral. "
Engineers at the UAC, undaunted by the recent destruction of the first RoboCop prototype, have acquired the cryogenically preserved body of the notorious criminal known as "Anarchy" and revived him with cybernetic implants. The project was quickly christened "PsychoCop". In a field trial, PsychoCop was assigned to take out six terrorists who were holding 1000 people hostage in a hotel. Two hours later, the hotel was a smoking wreck with no survivors. The Police Commissioner was impressed. "Not only has PsychoCop successfully eliminated the criminals, he has also significantly reduced the number of people we need to protect from crime, thus promoting police efficiency."
PsychoCop did not last long however.
PsychoCop paid a visit to Caius with the intention of conversing with the late AntiChrist about laser weaponry. Unfortunately, he was met on his way out by the notorious criminal Dominic Foster and his .38. PsychoCop ducked reflexively, but was hit twice in the shoulder anyway, causing significant internal damage which he failed to notice because he was running under Windows 3.1. Foster fled into a nearby room from which he refused to budge. The next day, a short circuit resulting from the bullets still lodged in his shoulder blades caused PsychoCop to go berserk and shoot "C" several times in the head before suffering an Unrecoverable Application Error and shutting down. "C", already nursing a hangover from the previous night's excesses in the Old Texas Embassy, Trafalgar Square, shot the dead body 20 more times to make sure.
The young Harris Tweed suit was dragging his well-laden suitcase up the Selwyn staircase, bouncing it against each step. He stopped at a door, and tried his key in the lock. Strangely it appeared not to fit. Muttering obscenities under his breath, he acquired the attention of the men in the neighbouring room. In a strong German accent, he explained that he had come for interview for Part III Mathematics, and that the key to his allocated room, seemed unable to unlock the door.
"But that's my room!"
As Tom Sheppard tried the key for himself, The "Law-Enforcer" employed his Heckler und Koch G3 rifle to free up one more place for prospective Part III mathmos.
Paul Barclay also fell to the German "Law-Enforcer"'s G3.
Someone's innocent offer to collect shopping for PC Andrew Eakins, provided the open door that Caian hitman Dominic Foster needed to tear his ribcage apart with a savage shot from his Walther PPK.
Shots were heard in Fitzwilliam this afternoon. Police called to the scene discovered the corpses of PC Simon Osindero and a neighbour. Fingerprints carelessly left on the doorhandle match those of known rebellious agent Colin "Gambit" Ross.
At five minutes past nine on Sunday Evening, T staircase in North Court, Emmanuel, reverberated to the sound of gunfire. The Lord of the Nazgul had come to claim the soul of Paul Yates, and was engaged in a pitched battle, rounds from Mr Yates revolver ricocheting harmlessly off the floor as he fired over the top of his door. The Nazgul returned fire with his SA80, but Paul had foreseen this eventuality and had had his frosted glass replaced with the armoured variety. He shut the door to reconsider his options. The Nazgul donned a gas mask before introducing a small quantity of hydrogen cyanide through Paul's keyhole. He was satisfied to hear a protracted gargling sound followed by a dull thud as the hapless Yates collapsed. His soul departed in the manner his nemesis had entered, into the waiting hand of the Nazgul, who pocketed it and melted away into the night....
Anthony James dropped by fellow Johnsian Vince Hall-Roberts' room to comprehensively contact poison the door. Jon Vaughan, one of Vince's friends, later knocked on Vince's door, and touched the handle on entry, with fatal consequences. Police now wish to aerate Anthony. Vince later suffered a terminal logout during an e-mail session at Anthony's bloody hands.
Anthony "Magnum" James has waged war on the police starting with the Johnsian PC Robert Johnstone. On locating him in his room Magnum entered through the open door. He drew out his gun and fired one shot at point blank range. In his eagerness however he had forgotten to aim and somehow missed. Robert lunged for Magnum's gun and they grappled into the hallway. Magnum, however, brought out his antique Colt .45 and fired three shots into Robert's body, then quickly left down the stairs followed by Robert's blood trickling downwards. Then on to the room of PC Sonya Lewycka of Christ's. She was rapidly disposed of when she opened the door to find the bullet from a Magnum at close range passing through her door and then her head.
The "Law-Enforcer" gained access by connivance to 4a Rose Crescent. Whipping out his G3 rifle he proceeded up the stairs where he encountered the Emu, Caian, Ellie Usher, among friends. Her flight distinguished her sufficiently from the other women to allow him to encourage a terminal cardiac arrest, ably initiated by a salvo of hot lead.
At 8:30pm the Lord of The Nazgul was on his way to watch Goldeneye, intent on taking a well-earned night off from stalking the streets of Cambridge, and, rather more importantly, on paying his girlfriend some of the attention she'd not had of late. As he and she meandered carelessly up Senate House Passage, the Nazgul uncharacteristically a little offguard, two dodgy students approached. One, the "Law-Enforcer", Michael Kopp, obviously recognised the Nazgul, and whipped out a pistol, firing several shots. The Nazgul responded with his Smith and Wesson, unfortunately not reliable at anything other than short distances. As he staggered away, he felt considerable pain in his left arm; from the quantity of blood he fancied he had few breaths left. Closer inspection of his wounds revealed that he had only taken two rounds in his left hand. Jacqui staunched the blood with her coat, and escorted him to Addenbrookes, where he spent the night having his left hand replaced with the latest titanium model. He is reported to be v. hacked off at missing the Bond Movie, and intends to exact revenge upon recovery.
Colin Ross proved the worth of a .44 Magnum earlier this afternoon in Jesus, when his shot passed through the elbow of Philip Donald King, lodging finally in the spinal cord, paralysing him. Colin then pulled out a petrol can and applied thin coatings of petrol with a brush, allowing each to burn off before applying the next. Philip was soon enthusiastically sharing the Mossad's short term strategies with Colin, until Colin forgot to put the cap back on the petrol can, but remembered to make a dive for the stairs, when the match dropped from his hands.
At approximately 3.15 pm yesterday, Evil C gained access to L Block Burrell's Field, through insider knowledge. "Ruban" the Sri Lankan "sleeper" from Columbo was meanwhile using his encyclopediac knowledge of internet porn to download suitable pictures for convincingly mixing with those of British Tory MPs. A few delicate manouevres and the lock consented. Evil C doubletapped "Ruban", the second bullet passing straight through and making rather a mess of Miss April '95 (the one with the contour line effect... allegedly).
At 5 minutes to midday on Wednesday 29 November, the shadows on the second floor of Z staircase, Angel's Court, shimmered as though something had passed through without ever really having been there. This bizarre phenomenon was witnessed by a resident, who scuttled off to be violently ill, unaware that he had been the last to see the Nazgul alive. Twenty minutes later, the corpse of Trin. Michael Kopp, riddled with bullets, was found outside the open door to his room. The key was still in the lock, and his outstretched hand held a semi-automatic pistol. Its magazine was half empty; spent cases lay scattered around the body. The unfortunate who had stumbled upon this scene noticed that if he glanced at the doorway opposite the corpse, sometimes, through the corner of his eye, he could make out the outline of a torn and bloodied cloak - all that remained of the Lord of The Nazgul.
Feeling unusually foolish for the time of year, the Blue Killer, Murray Williams, went to check his King's pigeonhole for the last time of Tuesday night. Little knew he of the devious trap contained therein. Upon opening the orange envelope marked with his name, he was shocked to hear the tune "On the first day of Christmas...". This shortly preceded another quickly forming large temperature/pressure gradient which undid the reconstruction that the mail room had previously had to undergo.
In a bizarre twist of fate, just as "C" was sending Trin. Clive Ponsonby great encouragement to cut off Joe Pearce's vital organs, the Phoenix appeared behind him, sneaking a brief glance at the incredible complements written about him. In view of the current free for all, "C" permitted the use of this knowledge, rather than introducing Joe to oblivion. Former bodyguard to Clive, Jon Skeet, swayed by Joe's pitiful bribe, persuaded Clive to open up his sanctuary... for Joe to invade and conquer. Such treason. A fatal loss of paranoia. I'm just about in the mood to watch Goldeneye.
I'm declaring a free for all effective from now. This means the live assassins have all the other live assassins as targets. I urge you to give the outlyer Steve O' Hanlon at least equal attention. The police can still only kill wanted criminals.
May you serve Her Majesty well!
"C"
Here is a list of the live assassins:
Stephen "Archduke Baalarizaaf" O'Hanlon ( sgo21 ) Room E, Wolfson College. A medic at Addenbrookes. Hospital mainly out of bounds. Car park, tea room etc. valid.
Dominic H. Foster ( dhf20 ) A19 Harvey Court, Caius. Fairly Tall, Blonde Hair. Xmas decorations up round his room.
Jeremy Quartermain ( jaq21 ) Dark (?) hair. 1 The Hostel, Peterhouse.
Anthony "Magnum" James ( apj21 ) G3 Cripp's Court, St. John's.
Colin Ross ( cr10009 ) 11 K, Churchill. Mid-brown hair. Pool fan. Birthday 25th Sep. Day after "C"'s Don't forget!
Rohan Platts ( rp207 ) 3 Station Road, Willingham. Dark brown hair. Her boyfriend lives in Rm 3, 14-16 Castle St. She spends much time with him.
Joe "Shadow" Pearce ( jdp20 ) A10, Robinson. Dark brown hair, medium height. Robinson porters will go out of their way to assist.
Chris "Tucky" Tucker ( cjt1000 ) 9 Park Lodge, Emmanuel. Fond of blowing up mail-rooms.
The Shadow of the Phoenix ironically posed as a member of the Christian Union collecting donation envelopes. When PC Vince Hall-Roberts stated that he had in fact not received an envelope, Shadow declared that he had some spares on him somewhere, then pulled out of his pocket his .38 police special ;) and fired once into the startled PC's forehead. The resulting mess and possibly the proximity of a man with a lethal weapon :) caused the girlfriend to start screaming piercingly. Shadow, fearing for his ears, but desiring a live witness, left abruptly to return to his foul lair.... And that's A10, Robinson, all you cops out there. No lectures, so honour him with your 'company'.
At ~20:30 Anthony "Magnum" James fell for some contact poison that Shadow had left for him. His ghost claimed it was the job of a pro!?!
Archduke Baalarizaaf and the Shadow of the Phoenix are to duel with swords tomorrow in the Wolfson Japanese Meditation Garden.
A Japanese meditation garden. Two gleaming razor-sharp duelling swords. Four cloaked figures. Four robes thrown to the floor. The clash of metal 'gainst metal. The clash of crimson 'gainst green. Three lacerated corpses - one victor. His perogative. 2-2 then cut below the eye. Mexican night and drinkable window ornaments.
The Archduke Baalarizaaf, Steve Gray O' Hanlon, took on the Shadow of the Phoenix, Joe Pearce, in Wolfson yesterday. "C" oversaw and umpired. Joe drew first blood, piercing the right kidney, but three lightning counterattacks from Steve fatally modified the topology of Joe's body. The ashes of the Phoenix were then gamma irradiated, lest he rise from them.
Colin "Gambit" Ross, was most disoriented duelling without his lead weighted pool cue and Chris Tucker proceeded to make dog food of him. Chris's jeers of victory were ephemeral however.
Chris buoyed by his victory, foolishly dared to confront the Archduke. However, a slice across his abdomen felled Chris to his knees with his warm entrails sliding out through his hands. Baalarizaaf then promptly issued a noble coup de grace.
"C" then plucked the sword out of Chris' heart and parried a lunge from the bloodthirsty nobleman. Fierce clashing of epees, cuts, linear and circular parries and lunges ensued, as the offensive quickly switched back and forth. In true Christmas spirit, two cuts each were given and received. Then in one flowing movement the Archduke clipped "C"'s face below the eye [technically against rules] and stabbed him in the spleen.
Steve the Medic then started work, healing his alias and "C". Joe, Colin and Chris called by again later for Mexican night, no doubt lubricated by Steve's alcoholic window ornaments. Photos of the duel may be made available on the Killer Web pages.
Rohan Platts remains a subject of the Archduke's attention.
Assassins,
On to the snow-covered lawn fronting King's College, a motley gathering of
raincoated scar-faces, blades glinting 'neath the rents in the cloaks, did
convene. Under the curious gaze of rubbernecking tourists, two did their
broadswords draw and touch. Fierce clashes of steel 'gainst steel (and
steel 'gainst bowler hat) announced murderous intentions. Dominic versus the
Archduke. A distracting snowball, a hit to the groin (ouch! hack on!), a slice
to the right lungs, a stab to the liver. The innocent white carpet
incarnadined with an accelerating flow of blood, till at last, it was four
hits each. Dominic, feeling his last strength seeping away, made a desperate
lunge at the Archduke, slicing through the left shoulder strap of his
waistcoat; but sadly for him, not piercing skin. Then a swift retaliation saw
the Archduke deprived of his sword - stuck up to the hilt through Dominic's
left ventricle. The quivering pulseless Dominic fell forward, to be swiftly
covered by the falling snow.
And so ends the Michaelmas 1995 Killer Game. Congratulations to the winner Steve Gray O'Hanlon of Wolfson College, alias The Archduke Baalarizaaf, alias Dr Death, as he is affectionately known to his Addenbrookes' patients. Equal regards to Dominic "Mycroft" Foster, who fought valiantly, truely matching his opponent, and making the duel a sod to umpire :-)
Seating space at the post-duel Eagle Tavern visit appeared with the brandishing of maces, daggers, bastard swords and broadswords. Rohan and our morally upright Chief of Police have mastered the art of persuasion :-)
Good luck to Ben in umpiring this term's game.
It's been fun!
--Nigel Harris, Michaelmas '95 Umpire