HAD~ high altitude drone used for surveillance
U2C ~ Upright Uptight Citizen ~ Cityspeak ~slang for a normal person / non combatant.
Wetwork ~ murder for hire, assassination.
Breeder ~ Ork slang for a "normal" human.
CD Wolfhound VT~ A vector thrust surveillance drone.
Smartlink A smartlink is the feedback loop circuitry necessary to take full advantage of a smartgun. Targeting information appears on the user's retina or cybereye as a small dot or a cross hairs that corresponds to the smartweapon's current line of fire. Typical systems use a subdermal induction pad in the user's palm to link with the smartgun.
"Some days it feels like all I'm doing is rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic." ~ Ace - Fox Shaman
* O *
Chris quietly locked the door to his office and sat down at his desk. Reaching into the bottom drawer he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and carefully poured two fingers worth into a glass before returning the bottle to its hiding place. He sat back and sipped his drink as he ran through mental preparations for the upcoming fight. It was inevitable since there was no way that Fagetti would let their raid on the restaurant slide, but at this point he welcomed the thought. It was going to feel so good to finally nail the bastards who hurt JD and Nathan to the wall.
Vin put one last case of ammo down in his nest and surveyed his killing field. The discretely placed flags fluttered in the breeze showing direction and approximated wind speed. The familiar routine soothed his nerves and that in turn allowed him to focus. Below him Ezra stepped into view, his auburn hair glowing red in the late afternoon sun. Vin smiled wistfully as Ezra danced in the courtyard of their compound calling up a watcher spirit to guard the for the first time he wished that he could see magic the way Josiah and Ezra could, but his own magic was that of the body rather than of the soul like Josiah or of the spirit like Ezra. The sound of an approaching car on their out of the way street caught his attention.'Lobo, we got company.'
'On my way.'
The car, a nondescript, Ford Americar, stopped short of their drive way and the passenger door opened and a man stepped out his arms held wide. Vin relaxed immediately as he recognized the man, although why Hunter was showing up now he wasn't sure. He and his cousin had been keeping an eye out on Nathan the last he knew. 'It's Hunter. Somebody wanna let him in?'
*O*
The main door rose, a mute invitation to enter, and Archangel drove in and turned the vehicle off. The door to the compound opened and he could see Prophet waiting for them. Knowing the mage he probably had his elementals standing by in case the car was a Trojan horse. He grinned at their obvious paranoia and was glad to see that even the sight of an ally wasn't enough to drop their guard. He turned to help Nathan out of the back seat, steadying him as he stood up. The medic smiled and shuffled forward to greet his team mate, leaving Hunter and Angel to follow them down the hall.
O*O
JD sighed in relief as he finished the last diagnostic on his drones. Everything was finally up to date with the latest programs and he was excited to try out the new concoction he had picked up for his Ares Scorpion. At a mere seventeen centimeters it wasn't impressive to look at but it could squeeze into tiny spaces and deliver a lethal dose of any number of noxious substances without the target ever knowing what hit them. Granted it only carried one dose at a time, but for stealth it couldn't be beat. He loaded the cartridge into the drone and set it aside while he set the parameters for his R3T-G rat drone. Once he had it programmed he sent it out to patrol the perimeter of the property and jacked out.
O*O
Hunter followed Prophet, DT, and his cousin down the hallway until it opened up into the large central room. He took a seat on one of the couches and waited for the rest of the Seventh to join them. He frowned as DT gingerly tried to find a comfortable position. The medic should still be in the hospital under a doctor's care, but he had been insistent that his team needed him and it seemed to Hunter that fretting about the rest of the group was doing DT more harm than letting him come home would.
O*O
Chris tossed back the last sip of whiskey and set the glass down with a sigh. He wasn't surprised that Nathan had ignored Potshot's demand that he stay in bed and rest. Hell, none of them were good at following the doc's recommendations when it came to staying put for long. What did surprise him was how long it had taken the medic to sneak back home. The biggest question though was how he had talked Hunter into it. A question that would soon be answered. He paused at the door and put on a scowl. No sense in letting DT know that he was secretly glad to have the man back where he belonged. If he gave his men an inch they would take a mile and then there was no telling what shenanigans they would get up to. And that just added to the gray hairs he was currently sporting.
O*O
Nathan fidgeted while he waited for Chris to join them. The sammy was not going to be pleased that he was disobeying the doc, but Nathan was going nuts just sitting around the safe house. Hunter and Angel were pleasant enough companions and he enjoyed spending time with them but knowing who was after them Nathan was reluctant to put more friends into the line of fire. D'Agostino's men didn't give a fuck about collateral damage and he would be damned if he got these men killed trying to protect him. Chris was just going to have to suck it up because he was not going to go back to hiding while his team was in danger. Nathan squared his shoulders and steeled his resolve for the coming argument. He raised his eyes to a familiar scowl as Chris stomped into the room. Plastering on an equally fierce frown, he hunched his shoulders and prepared to fight for the right to stay.
Chris shot a glance toward Nathan. The medic was obviously spoiling for a fight but he would just have to wait. Chris pointedly turned his attention to their guests and suppressed a grin at the faint hiss of irritation his teammate let out at the snub. "Hunter, if I may have a word?" He led the way out of the room and back to his office, ushering the sammy in with a wave.
Hunter sauntered in to Lobo's office and looked around the room curiously. A large wooden desk dominated the space. One wall was covered with floor to ceiling bookshelves that were crammed with old books and odd items. On the center shelf at eye level a single spur rested next to an old whiskey bottle labeled Red Eye. He turned away from the shelf and took a seat. "It's not my fault," he stated baldly. "If we didn't bring him back he would have called a cab."
Chris laughed. "Probably, but that isn't why I wanted to talk to ya. Got one more job for ya if you're up for it."
Hunter arched an eyebrow. "We still havn't told the judge we are ready to come back so what'da need?"
Chris sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That lady "friend" Stud picked up? Turns out she is an undercover cop on a task force trying to take down D'Agostino. She and her partner got made and he was captured." He nodded as Hunter shuddered. "Yeah, and it's as bad as anything that just ran through your head. We got him out though and he and the girl are with Potshot, but Hunter, you know what the Don's men are like. They ain't gonna shrug and let it go. So I need you and Angel over there body guarding her. We can pay..." he stopped as Hunter shook his head.
"No payment necessary. Angel and me still owe that fucker for the loss of Skid Row. We'll head over there as soon as we leave here." He smiled at the visible relief in Chris' grey eyes. "You like this girl?"
Chris snorted. "She's a pain in the ass feebie. But she tried to protect Stud and that is a debt I won't let go unpaid."
"Especially when it leaves you owing the feebies?" Hunter guessed.
Chris nodded. "Exactly!" He stood and held out a hand. "Rather owe you," he grinned.
Hunter shook the offered hand and smiled back, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. "They might be cheaper in the long run, " he warned.
"I'll take my chances."
O*O
Hunter and Angel didn't linger, they simply made their farewells and left heading for Potshot's office. Chris saw them off and retreated back to his office. He took out his weapons and made sure all were in working order and ready to go, with full clips and extra ammo loaded and ready. This was the part he hated the worse, the damn seemingly endless wait for something to happen. Maybe they should take the battle to the enemy. They had been attacked so many times at this point that the men of the Seventh were itching for a fight. Yeah, it was definitely time to go on the offensive. "No more sitting around waiting. Time to make those fuckers pay for what they did," Chris growled under his breath. 'Ezra, is your watcher still on Fagetti?'
Ezra snorted. 'It is.'
Chris chuckled evilly. 'Change of plans, pack it up, boys. We're gonna go hunt some bear.'
'About damn time,' Josiah's deep voice came loud over the com.
O*O
Fred seethed as Fagetti stomped around the room snapping at his men. The hitman's veins throbbed a deep red against the pale skin of his neck, his face flushed, which just served to highlight the scars that peppered his face. When the man was calm it wan't something you would ever notice. Now however stress was illustrating the hard life the man had subjected himself to. It wasn't a pretty picture. Fred turned slightly as he caught a glint of light out of the corner of his eye. He dropped without hesitation and cursed at the tug and sting as a lock of his hair was ripped out of his head by the high speed passage of a bullet that buried itself in the back of the skull of the man talking to Fagetti. Blood, brain matter and bits of bone peppered the hit man as he threw himself behind cover. Around the room screams of pain and shouts added to the chaos and men scrambled for shelter against the deadly bombardment of gunfire. Fred hugged the ground and looked around frantically for someplace to hide. This was not his kind of fight and he was loath to raise his head enough to look around. It had to be the Seventh out there and he knew just how deadly their sniper was. All it would take would be the merest twitch to draw Falcon's attention and it would all be over, but he would be damned if he was going out that way so he lay still and kept his head down. It seemed like hours before the roar of gunfire stopped, although in truth it was probably less then five minutes. Minutes of silence passed, cut only by the moans of the wounded, before anyone dared to stir. Cautiously Fred raised his head and looked around. The curtains on the windows had been shredded by the devastating firepower and the front window was a gaping maw of jagged glass fragments and a dust cloud that twinkled in the setting sun. Fred clamped a hand over his face to avoid breathing in the powdered glass and scooted away from the front of the room. He rolled over and surveyed the rest of the area. Blood splattered the walls and smoking holes covered every surface from floor to ceiling. Grimly he met Fagetti's furious gaze.
"No more fucking around. We kill them now," Fagetti ground out. He pressed the heel of his hand deep into the meat of his thigh as blood oozed out around the edges.
Fred nodded absently, his mind already contemplating the slow flaying of Falcon. He would enjoy hearing the sniper scream his way into hell.
Fagetti froze as a voice called from outside.
"Fagetti! You've been looking for me, you son of a bitch. Well here I am. Come on and let's settle this once and for all. Mano a mano. If you're not yellow. Which I seriously question since you've been using ambushes instead of facing us head on, ya fucking coward."
Fagetti growled at the note of mocking contempt in Lobo's voice. He looked around taking stock of what he had to work with. Out of the twenty-five men who had crowded the room, only fifteen of them seemed fit to carry on the fight. Fifteen, himself and Fred that was. Even with their losses they still outnumbered the Seventh two to one.
Fagetti coughed as his nose twitched. Was that smoke? He looked around searching for the source. He caught a glow out of the corner of his eye. A massive form filled the corner of the room, malevolent eyes staring back at him and the smell of brimstone and hell emanated from the elemental. Horror curdled in his gut as the fire roared to life, crawling up the wall and across the ceiling like a living thing, devouring everything in its path. The room erupted into a chaotic swirling morass of panic as the men fled from the blaze, trampling on their comrades with no thought other than to get out. Fagetti tried in vain to get their attention but the roar of the fire and the screams of agony as the heat rose and skin crisped swallowed his voice. The building groaned as boards warped under the intense heat and ominous creaks came from the ceiling. He looked up and cringed as the spirit's eyes crawled across the supporting beam and in the howl of wind and flames he could hear the laughter of the elemental as it consumed the room.
Rolling over to his belly he looked around for help. Everyone that was mobile had already made the mad scramble for any exit they could find and the only one nearby was Marco who was slowly bleeding out from a gut shot. He met the boy's frantic eyes and for a brief second he felt a surge of compassion. It was an alien feeling, something that he thought had been ruthlessly stamped out years ago, something no one in his position could afford to indulge. He reached down and slowly drew his pistol keeping it hidden by his side. "Marco! Close your eyes, I'm going to try and get you out."
Relief crossed the boy's face and obediently he shut his eyes, squeezing them tight like a child trying not to peek. He never felt the bullet that released him from his pain and fear.
Fagetti holstered his pistol and dragged himself toward the doorway leaving a smear of blood in his wake.
*O*
Vin methodically processed targets as the men came boiling out of the burning building like cockroaches trying to escape a sudden light source. With every crack of his lady another man fell until six bodies littered the area around the back door. As the last man disappeared behind cover his eyes narrowed and he scanned the street looking for the merest flicker of motion that would give him a target to aim for. A gentle heat bathed the side of his face as one of Josiah's elementals appeared beside him.
The elemental's voice crackled like a campfire, snapping and popping as it spoke. "The leader is out now, but he can not be seen from here." It raised a tongue of flame like an arm and pointed to the far corner. "He went there, through a forgotten way and into a narrow passage."
Nathan swore, "Damn it, why can't the bad guys ever make things easy for us?"
Vin snorted, "Oh I don't know, maybe because they're the bad guys?" Turning back to the elemental he said, "Go tell Lobo as well." He waited until it disappeared and then turned his attention back to the kill zone.
O*O
Fred's lip curled in contempt as another of Fagetti's men was taken out by the Seventh's damn sniper. Granted they were nothing more than tools but he was not finished with them yet. He stared up at the rooftop where Falcon was perched. He could just make out the end of a gun barrel peeking over the edge from time to time, usually right before or after another of the men died. If they were going to stand any chance at all of getting out of this alive, someone had to go take out Falcon. Luckily for them he excelled at that.
First however he was going to have to take out the teammates guarding the nest. He crept along the street, darting from cover to cover, until he was far enough away not to be seen by the sharp eyed sniper. Then he crossed the street and slipped through an alleyway to the street beyond that. If he could get in behind them he could sneak up and take them out before they even knew he was there.
O*O
Nathan shifted again and swore under his breath, the damn gravel felt like it had a personal vendetta against his hips. He scanned the street slowly watching for any movement... there, behind the rusted hulk of a van he spotted their quarry. 'Falcon, 2:00, 60 meters, behind the front quarter panel of the van.'
'Got 'em.'
Vin took the shot and a cut off scream made Nathan smile grimly. No more of the enemy forces made the mistake of showing themselves so Nathan activated the infrared scanner in his cybereye. Bright pockets of swirling orange and red marked where Fagetti's men had gone to ground but none of them were so much as twitching let alone popping their heads up for Vin to blow it off. Nathan ran his gaze along the line of cars on both sides of the street. A flicker of movement on their side caught his attention. He scooted forward and craned his neck trying to get a bead on whatever was below them. Then he spotted a familiar looking tube. 'Falcon! Grenade! 6:00, 10 meters, he is next to the drain pipe. about to step out and fire.'
Vin lunged to his feet and stepped forward leaning against the low wall surrounding the roof top. He slipped out of the sling and angled the barrel of his lady down following the drain pipe until the snarling face of an orc appeared in his crosshairs. He took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. He started to smile when something plowed into him and he staggered forward and the combination of the hit from behind and the wall catching him in the hip flipped him ass over tea kettle. With a strangled cry he dropped the rifle as he fell. Clutching desperately for a handhold he felt as first one and then another nail tore as they were caught in the rough plascrete but he managed to grab onto a narrow ledge with his fingertips. Stabbing pain shot through his hands and they grew slick from what was either sweat or blood, he wasn't sure which.
Nathan blanched and jumped to his feet as he recognized the man who had just knocked Vin off the roof. The last time he had seen that face the hitman had watched him bleed out with dead eyes and a faint smile of satisfaction. The quiet shick of Nathan's cyber spurs extending was drowned out by the pounding of his heart. His mouth was suddenly dry and he clenched his hands into tight fists. He wasn't sure where the hell the man had come from but he sure wasn't here to invite them to a tea party.
The hit man smiled thinly at him and drew his knife slashing the air in a wild movement. He cackled as Nathan instinctively jumped back to avoid the blow.
Nathan's eyes narrowed as he studied his opponent. The two circled each other and Nathan stepped carefully to avoid the cables that ran across the roof. Those would make for tricky footing as would the thin layer of gravel. It was going to hurt like a bitch if he fell, but at least the poor footing also handicapped the other man and Nathan would ruthlessly use that to his advantage if he could.
*O*
Ezra flinched as a rifle clattered to the ground nearby. He recognized the weapon immediately, it was Vin's beloved Draganov. Alarmed he looked overhead and spotted their sniper dangling from a ledge five stories above. Vin's feet scrambled for footing against the smooth wall, but Ezra could tell there was nothing to give Vin the leverage to pull himself back up. Unless he could give the sniper a boost. He quickly centered himself and gathered his will.
A slight grin flittered across his lips as one of Josiah's favorite sayings came to mind, As above so below... it wasn't the usual way a shaman looked at things but in this case it helped him as he held his hands out palms up and visualized the air turning into a solid platform beneath Vin's feet. Carefully he pushed his hands up until he felt a minute pressure against his palms and Vin's feet quit their frantic struggle and his body relaxed into the shaman's grip. Ezra flinched at the crack of a gunshot and the subsequent yelp of pain from Vin as he was stung by the shrapnel of a ricochet.
Ezra swore and swiftly split the column of air pulling some from the sides to form a solid barrier between Vin and the men taking potshots at him. A wave of dizziness caught him by surprise and he swayed . He almost lost his grip on both the levitate and bullet barrier spells when his elbow slammed into the wall behind him but long hours of practice allowed him to tune out everything but his will and the steady drain of his energy. It was like a dance, balancing the flow of magic in and out to accomplish wondrous things, and Ezra reveled in it.
O*O
The flickering of the fire in the corner of his eye was distracting and the deepening shadows as the day gave way to dusk made keeping track of his footing even harder. Nathan flinched away as the hit man scored another hit on his forearm. It stung like a bitch and he could almost feel his energy draining away with the blood flowing down his arms. Thank God he had spurs and not a knife that would be hell to keep hold of given how slippery his hands were getting. He circled trying to get the light from the fire and the street lights behind him so his cybereyes wouldn't be blinded by their heat signature. He couldn't afford to lose sight of the hit man for even a second or he was dead.
Nathan lunged and swiped across Fred's chest causing the man to leap back to avoid being gutted by Nathan's cyberspurs. A wisp of fabric fluttered to the ground and the edges of the cut turned crimson letting him know he had scored a hit. Fire safely to the rear now he switched his cybereyes to the infrared setting to offset the growing darkness. His enemy now glowed in lurid shades of red and orange and while it had been disconcerting at first learning to fight using this setting, now after years of practice, it was second nature.
Both men were bleeding freely from a multitude of cuts on their hands and arms. Nathan knew he was moving much slower than he should be and he really needed to end this fight before his injuries incapacitated him. Luckily the other man also seemed to be slowing down. He was more cautious now and his hits were more precise and deliberate.
The snarl on Fred's face and the manic look in his eyes were obscured by the glowing colors of his heat signature. Unable to see them now, the fear that had almost crippled Nathan faded and an almost zen like calm settled over his mind. He barely felt the cuts as Fred's knife slid along the surface of his arms as he blocked hit after hit.
O*O
Chris growled at the elemental's report of Fagetti's escape. Figured the damned coward would run and leave his men to face the Seventh's wrath alone, but what could you expect from a man whose entire career was doing wet work for the fucking mob. "Can you track him?"
The elemental hissed and popped for a moment. "Yesss. He went that way." An arm of flame pointed toward a building.
"In that warehouse?"
The spirit shrugged. "That way."
Chris considered for a moment. 'Ferret. Get over here, gonna need you and your drones.'
O*O
Nathan blocked a roundhouse and stepped into his opponent's range. He pivoted, smashing his elbow into the other man's nose, shoving him backward with the power of the blow. He grinned ferally at the crunch of cartilage and the rush of blood that instantly coated the assassin's face.
Fred staggered back tripping over a cable and landed on his ass. He screamed in agony as Nathan's boot ruptured his testicles and then the medic was on him, blows coming fast and savage with no let up, no mercy in the dark brutal gaze. The pain in his balls was so overwhelming that he couldn't breathe, let alone fight back. When Nathan slipped in the blood around his feet Fred weakly shoved him away and scrambled to his feet. He weaved back and forth for a moment trying desperately to catch his breath.
Nathan stutter- stepped until he finally found a dry patch that let him lunge forward and drive his spurs into Fred's belly. He could feel it as the man's skin and muscles slid aside, as the tips caught on ribs and finally his knuckles came to a stop on Fred's stomach.
The hitman threw his head back in a silent scream exposing his throat. Nathan snarled savagely and thrust his other hand up under Fred's chin. He pushed with all his remaining strength until he heard a pop as his spurs broke through the bone and cartilage into the roof of the man's mouth. Grunting he lifted the assassin and tossed him over the edge of the roof. Panting for breath and weaving in exhaustion he watched as Fred's body landed five stories below with a satisfying crash on the hood of a car. He huffed in exasperated amusement as the car's security system finally decided that a corpse landing on it was offensive in some manner and went off adding a strident whooping alarm to the utter chaos below.
O*O
Vin flinched as a body fell past him. The platform of air below his feet sagged as whoever it was landed with a shriek of metal and shattering glass then it firmed up only to go soft again as an alarm blared. He craned his head trying to see what was happening but to get a good luck he would have to trust to the levitate spell that was all that was keeping him from joining the dead guy below. Vin shook his head ruefully as his aching fingers clutched reflexively at the ledge. Nope not gonna happen. He winced as the com crackled in his ear.
"Falcon, I am about to lift you up. Reach as high as you can."
Vin relaxed even more at the soft Southern accent. He should have known it was Ezra who had caught him. Now that he was paying attention he could feel the warm soothing ... whatever it was that marked the Fox shaman's spells. Josiah's spells felt more clinical and precise, but Ezra's felt like being wrapped in a soft quilt, like a cold beer after a long hot summer day, like coming home.
"Good! Any day now would be jus' fine by me," Vin groused.
Ezra chuckled softly and lifted his hands watching intently as the sniper rose in the air until he could reach the lip of the building. A dark hand reached down and grasped Falcon by the forearm, biceps bulging as Nathan lifted his team mate up and helped him over the low wall. Taking a deep breath he turned his attention to Vin's Draganov and levitated it up to the roof. He held it in place until Nathan got a good grip then he let the spell fade away.
"I got 'em Ace."
Ezra frowned at the tired note in Nathan's voice, but then a wave of dizziness washed away his concern as he sank to his knees. Brushing his hand over his face he closed his eyes for just a moment. Gah drain was a stone cold bitch and he really didn't have time for it right now. Resolutely he pushed his fatigue away and staggered to his feet.
A gunshot rang out as he stood and the impact between his shoulders shoved him forward into the wall. Ezra yelped and dove for cover. Looking around wildly he finally spotted the man and narrowed his eyes in concentration.
O*O
Vin collapsed against the wall gasping for breath, both arms and hands aching. He stared down at the gnarled knuckles as his hands cramped. His nails were torn and the pads of his fingers looked like he had touched a sanding wheel. Ah well, at least he didn't have to worry about leaving fingerprints for awhile. He chuckled softly then tilted his head to look at his team mate. Nathan too looked like he had been put through the wringer. His sleeves were tattered and stained with what was most likely blood although color was impossible to discern by the dim street lights and his head hung as he slid down to sit beside Vin. In a moment he would get the first aid kit and start patching Nathan up but first he took some time to just catch his breath and revel in being back on solid ground.
The two men leaned against each other taking comfort in the warmth where their shoulders met and their survival despite Fagetti and his men's best efforts.
O*O
Ezra snarled as the continued gunfire kept him pinned behind the dubious shelter of the shrieking car. His ears rang from the constant whoop whoop whoop of the alarm and it was getting harder to see as the street lights flickered back and forth from a bright white to a faded dingy brown. The gut wrenching stench of released bowels and blood from whoever it was that Nathan had killed offended his nose and made his stomach churn and he was fast loosing patience with the whole damn situation.
Another round tugged at his jacket sleeve and with a shout he bounced to his feet and shoved a wave of pure mana across the street. It slammed into the rusted out bulk of a van and there was a scream of fear as the sides crumpled inward. The windshield bowed outward and when the glass finally gave way it shot out peppering the sidewalk. He was just sorry it was safety glass and not the more deadly shards of a window pane. Still, the spell had done as he wished and three men dashed for better cover giving him line of sight on their soon to be dead asses. He took a deep breath and his eyes and hands glowed with foxfire as he gathered handfuls of mana and threw it. The ball moved faster than thought enveloping the men and two of them went up like a bonfire.
The third froze in fear and that proved his undoing as another ball hit him at the base of his throat. The light from the fire lit up his face and Ezra could see the look of sheer panic and terror in the man's eyes before he was nothing more than fuel for the unearthly blaze.
Ezra watched as he burned with a dispassionate gaze. He wished he could feel some sort of compassion, really he did, but the memory of Buck's agonized eyes when he thought JD and Nathan had died, Vin's frozen stillness, the whispered prayers of Josiah as he tried to comfort his team and the look of gut wrenching guilt and anguish on Chris' face killed any feeling he might have had for the man's death.
He and all of Fagetti's men could have chosen to walk away, could have chosen a different path through life. No one had force them to work for a monster like D'Agostino. No one had held a gun barrel to their heads and made them come after he and his brothers because they had dared to protect a child. Rage flared hot and savage in his heart as he remembered the night spent huddling in a burnt out gas station with Billy Travis and the child's frantic efforts to keep him alive until the team could come find them. He spun at the sudden awareness of movement. The rage he felt was echoed in the eyes of the man behind himand the dark eye of the gun barrel pointed at his chest was massive.
Channeling his rage gave him just enough umph to get his spell off a split second before the gun spit and the muzzle flash flared in the darkness. The round flattened itself on his bullet barrier but the concussive force was still enough to knock him on his ass and made his eyes cross and his ears ring. The man slumped back against the wall behind him and slid down as his brains leaked out his nose and blood poured out of his eyes and ears running down the side of his neck and his cheeks.
Ezra fell over as the drain from casting too many spells too quickly hit him like an enraged troll at an Urban Brawl game. His head swam as he tried to form a coherent thought. He had to be somewhere but couldn't quite remember where. There was just a feeling of urgent need. Gingerly climbing to his feet he staggered around the corner into the street.
O*O
Vin pulled the med kit out of Nathan's pack and dug around in it until he found the stim and trauma patches. He passed them to the medic and waited patiently while he patched them both up. The familiar taste of olives filled his mouth as the DMSO flooded his system with pain killers, antibiotics and stimulates designed to keep him on his feet and functioning until they could get to Potshot.
"Gah!" Nathan's face twisted into a grimace of disgust as his trauma patch kicked in.
Vin chuckled softly. The medic's distaste for olives was well known and while he sympathized it was still funny.
He stopped laughing when Nathan had to reduce both shoulders.
He really hadn't realized that both were dislocated until Nathan had grabbed his elbow to look at his hands and the subsequent agony drove him to his knees. Adrenaline anesthesia is a beautiful thing, but the lull in the fight had allowed it to wear off. He looked up at Nathan and clenched his teeth. "Reduce 'em. Do it now while the patch is fresh," he ground out.
Nathan frowned. "Falcon, you need to be sedated for that..." he paused as the phys ad shook his head.
"Just do it! I can suppress the swelling and the pain but ya gotta do it now. Ya wait much longer an' I won't be able ta control it. Jes, let me trance first."
"Ok, ok don't get your panties in a twist," Nathan grumbled. He waited while Vin sank into the light trance that he used when he needed to access his phys ad abilities consciously.
Once the sniper was calm and centered he nodded and took a deep breath. He could feel Nathan probing the joint to determine the placement of bones, tendons, and muscle, but he sent a pulse of endorphins through his brain to compensate and suppressed the swelling to allow Nathan to ease the bones back into the joints with a minimum of damage. By the time Nathan stepped back Vin was pale and shaking, and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin.
Nathan slid down to sit beside him careful not to jostle his arm. "'Siah will be in a second."
True to his word it wasn't more than a few heartbeats before the heard the sound of heavy footsteps and Josiah's grizzled hair appeared coming up the steps. From the scowl on his face you would think that the injuries they both sustained had be put there solely for his inconvenience. Vin could hear the dwarf grumbling under his breath but even before he reached them the gentle warmth of his magic enveloped them and Vin could feel the sting and ache in his hands and shoulders being soothed away as bones knit together and tiny rips in the muscle healed. It didn't come a moment to soon because the roar of gunfire from below got even louder and Vin could hear Buck's snap of anger and fear as he tried to get Ezra to safety. Vin gave a sigh of relief and snagged his rifle as he rose to his feet and moved into position to cover his team mates.
O*O
Buck hissed in annoyance as first JD and then Ezra came around the corner. JD wasn't so bad really, he at least kept his head down and darted from one bit of cover to another when there was a lull in the fight before slipping into one of the abandoned buildings and disappearing from view. Ezra, however, stepped out into the street with a pinched look around his mouth and green eyes focused somewhere other than were he was.
'Ace! Damn it get down!' Buck snapped off a quick shot at the man targeting the shaman with a nasty grin. The mobster ducked back down with a yelp as Buck's round grazed his neck.
As a bullet slammed into the pavement at his feet Ezra looked around wildly and with a strangled curse, finally dove for cover behind the rusted out bulk of a junked car.
'Good God man, are you trying to get shot?' Buck groused.
Ezra shot him a sheepish look across the open area between them and shook his head. 'Sorry.'
Buck waved his hand. 'Yeah, whatever. We need to get better cover. One of those fraggers has grenades.' He peeked over the hood of his own wreck trying to spot the enemy.
'I got ya,' Vin spoke up. The crack of his Draganov was the signal for Ezra to move. He took off at a dead run and slid behind Buck's cover with a manic grin.
'Thank you, kind sir.' Ezra waited until Vin shot again and then he dashed for the doorway of the building . He ducked as he stepped into the open space and quickly scanned the area for any targets. 'All clear,' he called to Buck. He turned back and cursed as he was peppered with fragments of plascrete when a stray round ricocheted off the lintel of the doorway.
Buck ducked as another round slammed into the wall behind him. He chuckled at Ezra as the shaman spat out another curse. He spotted one of the men as he rose up and lobbed something toward them. Buck's eyes widened and he shouted a warning as he hunkered down presenting as small a target as he could. But getting knocked ass over tea kettle was a pretty good indication that it hadn't been small enough. He laid still trying to catch his breath while his shoulder felt like it had been hit by troll juiced on 2XS. What the fuck had hit him?
The real pain hadn't started yet, but he knew it was coming. Knew that if he didn't get on top of it right now he would be screaming like a girl and of utterly no use to his team. He felt a tug on his ankle and rolled his head slightly so he could see what had a hold of him. Ezra's face was shiny with sweat despite the cooling night air. The shaman's lips were moving but Buck couldn't make out what he was saying over the roar of gunfire and the ringing in his ears. He seemed to want Buck to move. He thought about that for a moment, cringed at the certainty of pain that would come, but sprawled out in the open the way he was if he didn't move he was gonna get shot again and that was just not on his dance card for the night. As the ringing started to fade away he became aware of the cacophony of voices over the com. The loudest was Lobo demanding a sit-rep. Following that was Falcon, calm voice narrating events like a commentator at an Urban Brawl game. Lobo again, urgent and clipped and then cutting across them all was Ace, his voice sharp, biting a warning.
Another tug at his ankle urged him to move. He winced as his body slid across the rough pavement, his armor catching on debris that littered the ground. He tried to move his arm to leverage himself up so he could crawl but it hung useless by his side. He gritted his teeth and rolled to the other side pressing his belly to the ground. He kept as low as possible, muscles twitching as bullets whizzed around him. Lift up a couple inches with his toes and reaching up with his good hand to drag his body forward. A moment later his questing hand was gripped in a warm firm grasp and looking up into
Ezra's fierce gaze, the fear and pain faded away. Behind Ezra, he could see JD scrambling over debris in a desperate bid to get to them. The rigger's drones followed him like he was the fucking Pied Piper or a momma duck and Buck giggled hysterically at the thought. JD would punch his lights out if he called him momma. He mouthed the words at Ezra who grinned back. From the sour look on JD's face as he reached them and helped Nathan haul him away deeper into the safety of the shadows maybe he had actually said it out loud. Buck shrugged and then groaned as pain clawed at the hole in his shoulder. He barely had time to turn his head before the contents of his stomach made an abrupt departure. JD supported his head, keeping his face out of the mess and Buck repented of making fun of his room mate. Buck's eyes drifted shut and when they opened again, it was Josiah's grizzled face looking down at him with a tired, grim set to his mouth. His shoulder was burning and throbbing in time with his heartbeat and he knew if he looked the wound would be closed with tight puckered pink skin where the hole had been but barely enough healing to keep him from bleeding out. Behind the mage he could see JD gesturing wildly and hear the muttered half of an argument. Finally the decker threw his hands up and exchanged a look with Josiah.
"We're fine. Go," the dwarf said. "Ezra and I have this."
JD shot Buck a fierce glare. "Don't you dare fragging die on me, Stud!" He nodded to Josiah and took off at a run.
O*O
Fagetti pushed his way through the passage, both shoulders rubbing against the wall leaving a gory trail of blood and charred flesh behind him. There was no more pain, a fact that had that faint voice in the back of his head screaming a warning. He ignored it; of course he was hurt! One look at the blackened peeling skin of his arms, chest and legs would tell even a moronic troll that much. But the rage and terror consuming him drowned out that little voice.
Only one thing mattered now and that was getting to his stash so he could kill that son of a bitch, Lobo. A vein in his temple throbbed as he thought about the sammy. The man had unholy luck and had been a thorn in his side for far to long. But his time had come and by the time he was done the Seventh would be a watchword for disaster and ruin.
He snarled as the breeze blew the scent of singed hair and skin back in his face. Need to plan a special party for their little mage. He paused searching his memories for a name... Preacher, Priest? Something like that. No matter, the fucking dwarf would be screaming for his God's mercy soon enough.
O*O
Chris looked up as JD stepped into the room. The kid seemed to be holding up despite having just left the tender hands of Potshot. He fought down a surge of guilt at even allowing JD and Nathan to be there.
The decker paused for a second as his armored jacket got hung up on the shattered door and he had to tug to get free. His mouth twisted into a wry grin at the sight of a size 11 boot print next to the doorknob. "Bad door... no doughnut," he snarked.
Chris snorted and turned his attention back to the window. His grey eyes narrowed as he studied the warehouse across the street. "Prophet's pet said Fagetti went that way. I need you to send one of your drones in there to track him."
"'kay. Got any more intel than that? Aerial or ground?"
Chris shrugged. "No idea. All Sparky said was that way. Best plan for both." He shot the boy a fierce grin. "Just find me that bastard so I can pump him fulla lead." He laughed as JD snapped his teeth like the savage little critter he was. Fresh outta the hospital or not, it didn't pay to underestimate his team mate. He clapped a hand on the kid's shoulder and steered him out the door.
O*O
It had been months since Fagetti had been in this safe room and he had forgotten how much of a stench the constant moisture and still air combined left as mold and mildew grew unchecked. The fine layer of dust showed that nobody else had been here though so everything was still in place. His staggering footsteps stirred up a small cloud as he walked across the room to a work table that ran the length of the wall and the resulting wheezing as he gasped for breath made his lungs and chest ache. Leaning against the table he waited for his breathing to ease then pulled down a box from the overhead shelf and opened it. Five rows of ammo filled the crate. Five rows of ammo filled the crate. They were a mixed lot of APDS, both explosive and incendiary rounds, and his personal favorite, capsule rounds. He lifted one from the box and smiled nastily. This would do nicely and the slow acting poison encased in the tip would insure that even a graze got the job done.
O*O
JD shivered as Chris's hand brushed across the matte black steel of his chassis.
"You gonna be ok, Ferret?" Chris asked. He turned to look at the kid sitting so still in his riggers harness and then back at the drone as a chuckle came from its speakers.
"Yeah Lobo, I'm fine. Trust me." It took him a couple seconds to answer since his brain was busy processing the double image and multiple view points as he looked at the team leader through both the drone camera and his meat eyes.
He closed his eyes to reduce the lag time and fired up the drone. The steady thrum of the power plant pulsed like a heart beat and the air slipping along his ailerons made him yearn for the open sky. Not this time. It was more likely their prey had gone to ground rather than up high. He's small and fast and deadly; small enough to fit into narrow places, fast enough to chase down prey, deadly enough to be sent out alone. As long as his meat body is safe. So Chris tucks him away safe in a closet and stands guard while he stalks their enemy, tracks him down to his lair. He won't attack this time, just find and report.
Activating the stealth setting he crossed the street. He spun in place when he realized the sheer devastation the firefight has left in its wake. Small fires smoldered and smoked on both sides of the street, halfway down the block a van had been crushed, cubes of safety glass surrounding it like a sparkling fairy circle, and bodies littered the sidewalks, macabre dolls dropped in place, limbs sprawled akimbo laying in blood pools that sucked up what little light the streetlights and fires put out. But there was no time for more than that one brief glance. He had a job to do, and Chris would not be pleased if he lingered sightseeing. Moving on he slipped into the warehouse. The trail of bloodied footprints was ridiculously easy to follow and the occasional hand print on the walls glowed faintly under the infra red setting on his cameras. He moved deeper into the warehouse threading his way past shipping containers and heavy equipment. He lost the trail for a few minutes and had to back track and look more carefully. About to give up he heard a faint squeak. He turned and looked into the deep shadow that shrouded the crevice between two massive boxes. A small image flared hot against the cool surroundings. It took only a moment to identify it as a rat gnawing blood and charred flesh off a crate. He slipped down the narrow isle until it opened out onto a corridor that ran the length of the warehouse. A gaping hole in the wall beckoned. The rubble around it looked fresh. Spitting his attention he powered up the drone he left with Chris. "Lobo, warehouse is clear. Looks like he has made a little escape route in the far wall. I'm following the trail now."
"Roger that. Watch your six."
"Will do." Ferret shut down the drone and moved back to his CD Wolfhound VT. Cautiously he approached and checked for booby traps. Nothing. He moved through the breech and headed down the narrow tunnel. It was so quiet down here. The only noise was the constant drip of water and the movements of the occasional rat. It wasn't very long before he heard louder movement ahead and as he approached he could also hear muttering. He could also detect a chemical trace in the air. The onboard computer sampled it and spit out an analysis that made him hiss. Human tissue, hemoglobin, charcoal, various pain killers and what-me-worries, and gun powder. He still needed a visual confirmation but JD was pretty damn sure they had the son of a bitch. He drove the drone up to hover just below the ceiling and extended an arm to peer into the room. Even from this angle he was able to positively identify Fagetti. Shit the man looked beat to hell and back but he was still far to dangerous to engage along. He retracted the arm and retreated to a safe distance. "Target acquired."
"Ferret, jack out."
The tone of voice that came over the comm was all he needed to know something was wrong. He carefully flew back down the passage and up into the rafters of the warehouse. It would be safe enough here until he could come back and pick up the drone.
JD opened his eyes and jacked out. His body trembled as it was overwhelmed by the returning surge of sensations that always accompanied the return of his consciousness to his meat body. Everything seemed duller and he felt confined and cramped for those first few seconds.
Chris was waiting impatiently for him to settle, he knew that and yeah it took a few moments to get use to having nothing but normal human senses, but at least he wasn't having to deal with dump shock. Three deep breaths and three beats of his heart and he was ready. Finally back in sync, he looked up. Chris was looming over him with a stoic look on his face. Drek! It was bad when he got that look. "What happened?" he snapped.
"Ace collapsed. Go relive DT and have him go help Prophet while you spot for Falcon."
"What about..."
Energy almost crackled around Chris as he glared at JD. "You let me worry about Fagetti. Now, move it, double time!"
JD was scrambling for the door before he had time to think. He glanced back once and sure enough Chris was still watching him with that 'don't make me tear your throat out with my teeth' look. But if Ferret was anything, he was sassy. He stuck his tongue out as he slid past the door and then grinned at the answering bark of laughter.
O*O
Chris reloaded while he waited for everyone to get into place. When he heard Nathan greet Josiah, he holstered his weapons, took a deep breath and stepped into the street. He glanced up at the roof top where Vin was standing and made eye contact with the elf. Words had never been necessary between he and his second. From the moment they met all they had ever needed was a single look. Now, looking up at his friend, he knew his team was safe in Vin's hands and if he didn't come back, well the team would survive and yes even prosper.
"Good huntin', Lobo."
He nodded and Vin touched the brim of his old cavalry hat in return.
O*O
Whether it was a change in the air or the sound of a faint footstep Fagetti couldn't say but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Lobo was coming for him. His lip curled, baring his teeth in a snarl as the blood thundered through his veins. He couldn't feel his hands anymore but at least there was no pain to distract him. All he had left was this one thing, reverberating through his mind like a chant. Kill Lobo. Nothing else mattered now. Just survive long enough to take out the other man and he would walk through the gates of hell with a laugh.
O*O
Chris drew his weapon and scanned the HUD as his smartlink came online. The Predators felt good in his hands, heavy enough to keep down recoil, light enough not to fatigue him too much in a long firefight. He had ADPS rounds loaded which would punch right through any body armor Fagetti might be sporting, although with what Ferret had reported he wasn't sure if the other man would even be able to tolerate the weight given the shape he was in after Prophet sent that fire elemental in. Threading his way through the warehouse he followed the faint trail left by first Fagetti and then Ferret's drone until he got to the reinforced door in the back wall.
He stopped and carefully checked the area for any signs of disturbance. He wouldn't put it past the hitman to have set up booby traps along the way to his bolthole. Sure enough he spotted the first one easily, a simple trigger plate set in the ground just inside the doorway. The second one took a bit more work to find and even more to disarm. He took his time to work through both. If there was anything his time in the Army had taught him it was this, 'Slow is smooth, smooth is fast, fast is lethal.' so he didn't rush it. Fagetti wasn't going anywhere anyway. He was as invested in ending this shit as Chris was. He would wait. And once he was down, it was the Dom's turn. Because he would be damned if he let that son of a bitch live after this. Then all they would have to worry about was corrupt corps, bad intel and Vin's coffee.
Click... There, safe to move on. He slipped through the door and moved quietly down the narrow corridor.
The first thing he noticed was a sour stench overlaid with mold and mildew. The second was the constant drip of water that cut through the silence. His skin shivered as a cold drop landed on his neck and slid under his armored jacket. The narrow passage was dimly lit, the floor slick with moisture and the walls rough with patches of mold and what looked like bits of paper stuck in the crevices. Curiosity got the better of him so he stepped up and took a closer look. The smell of burnt flesh and blood filled his nostrils and he stumbled back rubbing frantically at his nose. He fought the urge to turn around and get out, the temptation to just let nature take its course and finish off Fagetti almost overwhelming his resolve to finish this once and for all. He stood there for a long moment fighting a vicious silent battle with himself. Then, just as if he was still standing there getting his ass reamed for the mistake that took out half his team the last week of Q, he could hear his training instructor's voice echoing in his head... 'Never leave a live enemy on your back trail, knucklehead!' Squaring his shoulders he moved on.
The leather of his jacket rasped against the plascrete dislodging bits of charred skin as he pushed his way down the hall. His nose wrinkled in disgust and he was heartily thankful for his jacket. Just the thought of touching those walls with his bare skin made his stomach lurch. He hurried along, anxious to have more room to maneuver. Stepping through the door he had no more than a second to see the room before there was a blinding flash of light and a shock wave knocked him on his ass. His ears rang from the accompanying explosion.
A line of fire crossed his cheek followed by a gush of blood. He shouted and threw his arms up covering his face and throat as he scrambled backward searching for cover. Again a bright flash of pain erupted dipping over his shoulder and back down to his forearm. He could feel the blood flowing but he couldn't see anything past the flashing colors of the after image from the stun grenade. Sight and hearing compromised, his mind worked furiously seeking someway to protect himself until he recovered enough to fight back. He bumped into something, its sharp corner digging into his back. Gasping for air, he cringed as another slash caught him across his legs. He was starting to make out vague shapes as he dove for cover behind what his hands told him was some kind of crate. It wasn't large enough to completely hide him but it was certainly better than nothing. Pulling his legs up he curled up as best he could and pulled his weapons. If he could just hold Fagetti off for a few more seconds his eyesight would adjust allowing him to fight. The fire touched his back leaving a long line of agony in its wake. This time he couldn't hold back the scream that forced it's way past gritted teeth. Tears flooded his eyes and he choked back another scream as they hit the gash in his cheek. A muffled laugh came from a vague figure moving toward him. He raised his pistol and fired. He couldn't be sure that he hit anything but at least the figure had moved back. The lash fell again and it was all he could do not to drop his weapon and curl up in a ball as the skin on his hands and arm split.
Every muscle in his body spasmed as another line of fire crossed his back and wrapped around his ribs to his chest. Feebly he looked up and at last was able to make out the figure of a man standing over him monofilament whip in hand and a savage snarl warping his face. His hands shook as he tried to aim and it was nothing but sheer stubborn will that allowed his trigger finger to apply enough pressure to fire. Fagetti fell back as the round burst through his shoulder and out his back. He dropped the whip and roared loud enough for Chris to hear him past the ringing in his ears.
Pushing past the pain Chris rose to his feet in time to see Fagetti stiff arm a section of the wall that gave way allowing him to evade Chris's lunge. The door snapped shut behind him blending in so well to the rest of the wall that if Chris hadn't seen it he would never have known it was there. Figures the son of a bitch wouldn't let himself be cornered.
Agony flared as he moved reminding him he needed to patch himself up before he tried to do any more. Somewhere in his combat pouch he knew DT had stocked a few trauma and stim patches. He dug them out and peeled off the backing, heaving a sigh of relief as the pain killers went to work. Of course patches were nothing more than a stop gap and he needed to get back so Prophet and DT could fix him up properly, but he had to finish the job first.
He cautiously approached the door and checked it carefully for bobby traps. Fagetti had caught him off guard before but he'd be damned if it was going to happen a second time. He didn't find a damn thing. Satisfied it was safe enough he eased the door open and looked around. Instead of the passage way he expected the door opened into a second room, this one crowded with boxes and pallets of equipment. There was no sight of the hit man so he stepped inside and silently closed the door until it rested against the frame. Moving as quietly as possible he hunted amongst the items that crowded the room until a shot rang out as he turned a corner. Throwing himself backward into cover he crouched down and risked a quick peek to try and spot his opponent. Fagetti had wedged himself in behind a large steel desk, his face set in a savage snarl. From the condition of his face and what little Chris could see of his arms, death would probably be a mercy. Although a good surgeon would be able to repair the damage the hit man wasn't going to see any one but a medical examiner if he had anything to say about it.
Chris thought about saying something, about giving the man a chance to surrender, but the memory of JD lying so still in the hospital killed any compassion he might have. As his daddy use to say, some folks just need killin. Chris rose to his feet, stepped out from behind the crate and fired as he darted for the next bit of cover. He pressed his back against a large box and waited for a moment. Why hadn't the other man shot? Chris was so close now he could hear Fagetti breathing, a harsh rasping pant forced past split and bleeding lips. Stiffening his back he spun and side stepped until he was looking Fagetti in the eyes. A muzzle flash flared and something punched him in the gut. He staggered back with a grunt snarling at the malicious smile on the the other man's face. Fagetti laughed, blood slowly trickling down his chin as Chris slowly straightened up to his full height. Chris glared and emptied the clip of one of his Predators into the hitman's chest. Agony flared in his gut over riding the pain killers flooding his system, but he wasn't going to take the chance of this son of a bitch coming back. He forced himself to move forward until the barrel of his other weapon was pressed firmly into the bridge of Fagetti's nose then he pulled the trigger.
Chris felt his shoulders slump as he staggered back until his back hit a crate. He slid down slowly scowling as his ass hit the cold plascrete floor. Exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave and his head drooped. He would just close his eyes for a moment to rest then he would get up and get back to his team.
He should be in agony, but with the heavy pain killers from the patch all he really felt was numb. Just a few more minutes...
O*O
"Lobo? Answer me damn it..."
Vin waited another heartbeat or two but there was still no answer.
"Fuck this. Ferret, you're with me." Vin slung his rifle over one shoulder and headed for the stairs at a fast jog. Behind him he could hear the decker running to catch up. The two men ran down the stairs leaping from landing to landing as quick as possible and once they reached the street JD moved to take the lead.
JD led the way into a warehouse at the end of the block and barely slowed down as they threaded the narrow walkway between stacks of pallets. The decker was moving so fast that Vin almost lost him when he ducked down a side way, only his phys ad abilities allowing him to twist his body into the sudden ninety degree turn instead of slamming face first into a crate. Ten long strides later the space opened out onto a wider aisle that ran the length of the warehouse. Without hesitation JD turned right and dashed for a doorway that gaped open.
Vin followed right on JD's heels barely taking more than a cursory glance at their surroundings. The area at the end of the hall was blacked and still smoking as they neared the next doorway, but JD didn't even falter as he ran through it into a large mostly barren room. He skidded to a halt at the sight of a mono-whip lying abandoned on the floor.
"Oh frag!" he stared at the whip's blood stained length. "Do you think..." he paused and shot Vin a side glance.
Vin shook his head. "I'd know. He's alive."
"Than were is he?"
Vin thought about it for a moment. His combat sense told him that Chris was nearby, they hadn't seen him leave the warehouse and it wasn't like the sammy could just disappear into thin air, so where the hell was he? "Prophet, you got any mojo left?"
The dwarf's voice was calm as he replied. "Some, what do you need?"
"We got a dead end room here and no sign of Lobo, but I can tell he is nearby. Need an astral recon."
It was quiet for a few moments, long enough for Vin to start to wonder if maybe the mage wasn't up to it.
"On my way."
Vin smiled in relief.
O*O
Josiah sighed. He was bone deep tired but their leader was obviously in trouble. He dug deep to find the energy to cast his spirit into the astral. It should be easy, a simple trance and then step sideways out of the meat and into the endless expanse of astral space. But the body only had so much energy and his had largely been spent. Sleep tugged at his mind but he pushed it aside. Lobo needed them and if it had been he who was missing the sammy would have moved heaven or hell to find him no matter how tired he was. Josiah could give no less. Nathan squatted down beside him and held out a canteen. He lifted an eyebrow and took a swig. His eyebrows lifted so fast he was almost surprised they didn't leave a smoke trail. Pure liquid fire ran down his throat leaving a trail of numb warmth in it's wake. Gasping for breath he stared at the medic. "What the hell is that?"
Nathan smiled wryly. "A little something Potshot gave me. Tír na nÓgian Fire Wine with a caffeine chaser."
Josiah's eyes widened as a rush of vigor spread from his belly outward. He could feel the surge of restored mana flowing through his body. "There is more than just caffeine in that, DT. This helps a great deal. Thank you."
Nathan nodded. "She said it doesn't last long, so hurry."
The mage didn't waste time answering, he simply settle his hands in his lap and closed his eyes. Stepping into the astral was invigorating. He stretched and looked around to make sure there was nothing hostile standing around waiting for him. Satisfied that the coast was clear he stepped out of his body and with a thought joined his team mates in the room. There were no wards in the area to worry about; a point that illustrated just how stupid Fagetti had been. Surely the man had know that the Seventh had not one, but two active spell worms. Between them Ace and he could have taken the man out without any risk to the rest of the team... if they had been at full power. Which with the overwhelming forces arrayed against them they hadn't been. In truth they had been stretched to the breaking point so perhaps he did the hit man a disservice in thinking him an idiot. Neither mages nor shamans were invincible as the day had so amply shown. Still the lack of wards made things easier and he was on borrowed time. Approaching the walls he ran a incorporeal hand along the bricks and pushed. Halfway down the third wall his hand fell through. He grinned and stepped forward into another space and there slumped against a large box he found Chris. Blood ran sluggishly down his arms, chest and off his broad shoulders to puddle on the ground beneath him and his aura flared and stuttered a dull muddy grey green. Seriously alarmed Josiah returned to his body and opened his eyes.
"Falcon. Go to the back wall and look for the door twelve steps from the right. Push and it it will open to another room. Lobo is there and hurry, he looks bad. We need to get him to Potshot quickly. "
Vin was moving before the mage even stopped speaking.
The door was right were Josiah said it would be and Vin wasted no time getting it open. JD propped it open while Vin checked on Chris.
The sammy was a mess. Vin knelt beside him and lightly smacked his cheek to bring him around. "Come on Lobo, we need to get you outta here, so you gotta wake up for me."
JD frowned when there was no response. "Falcon, I got a bad feeling about this."
Vin nodded. "Let's get him up." He draped one of Chris' arms over his shoulder and wait until JD did the same, then with a nod they lifted and pulled their leader up. "DT, Lobo is down. We're bringing him out. Meet us at the warehouse entrance."
The two men carried Chris out to the street and laid him down so Nathan could start working on him. Once Nathan and Josiah got started Vin grabbed JD's arm and pulled him away.
"I need you to go the City Master and get back here. We all need medical so hurry." He shook his head in amusement as JD took off at a dead run. When was the last time he had that much energy?
O*O
Potshot sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes as she made her way to the small waiting room that was made even smaller by the presence of the five large men who waited anxiously for news. As for the other two team members, one slept under heavy sedation following the surgery to repair the gut wound that almost killed him and the other was bitching up a storm and attempting to charm her nurse into letting him leave. She snorted, Buck was a charming man to be sure, but he had met his match in Vanessa. He might be pretty but her nurse played for a different team and he would get no where although it was vastly amusing to watch him try.
Pausing in the hallway she leaned up against the wall and closed her eyes for just a moment. Damn she really needed a massage after nine hours on her feet with her hands deep in the gut of a man she admired above all others. She winced at the ache deep in her back. It had taken all her skill to repair the damage to Lobo's body and even still had almost lost him to poison. Thank God her nurse had spotted the broken capsule hidden by the blood. If he hadn't seen it... She shook her head, under no delusion as to the outcome. Squaring her shoulders, she pushed off the wall and opened the door.
As she walked into the room Falcon straightened and took a deep breath as though bracing himself for bad news.
"They are both going to be a pain in the ass to keep down, you know," she said wryly and then smiled at the relief in their eyes.
Epilog
"Never leave a life enemy on your back trail." ~ Capt. William Roque ~ UCAS Army Special Forces
Federal Judge Owen Travis set his coffee cup down as a news cast on the trid caught his attention.
"In other news, prominent business man Paulo D'Agostino was found dead this morning in his Denver mansion, apparent victim of an organized crime hit. The lead investigator at Lonestar Securities declined to give a statement, saying only that they had several leads that they were following at this time.
SAiC Jason Sackett of the UCAS FBI, who has been leading a taskforce looking into allegations of organised crime in Mr. D'Agostio's various businesses, was also not available for comment at this time.
Mr. D'Agostino is survived by his wife, Julia. A spokesmen for the family issued a statement saying they have faith in Lonestar and they are anxious for the perpetrator to be found and brought to justice."
Owen sat back and contemplated the dark brew in his cup before glancing out the window at the swing set on the lawn where his grandson Billy was playing. The boy was playing some kind of game with his nanny while his two body guards kept a look out. Owen smiled as Billy tagged his playmate and ran away giggling. Sparing one more glance at the trid the judge rose to his feet, switched off the machine and strode out the french doors to join his grandson.