Leon noticed the distinct gingerness in Hunnigan's step and couldn't have kept himself from commenting even if he'd wanted to.
"Trouble walking, agent Hunnigan?"
"An old adductor injury is acting up. I got it way back when I used to go horseback riding," Hunnigan dismissed his implication. Well, it wasn't a lie; it really was an old injury which had the tendecy to flare up under certain circumstances, especially if she spent prolonged periods of time in certain positions.
"Ah, been doing some riding," Leon grinned and Hunnigan sighed deeply. He was apparently intent on getting a lewd remark out of her.
"Yes, I've been breaking in a particularly bull-headed young mare for over two years now, it's a miracle I can walk at all," Hunnigan indulged him.
"I'd pay to see that," he said sincerely.
"Well, if I ever find myself that desperate for money, I'll remember your offer," Hunnigan smirked, made a detour to the break room with Leon and grabbed herself a coffee.
"Helena still on furlough?" he asked.
"Yeah, for another week."
"Why did she get a week more than I did? I'm hurt."
"Don't look at me, take it up with human resources," Hunnigan chuckled, continued further down the hall toward her office, waving a little over her shoulder as they parted ways.
She'd barely had a chance to sit at her desk when her phone made a noise.
Decided to sneak out before I had a chance to repeat my question, did you? For the record, it still stands and you can rest assured I am not currently under the influence of any post-coital hormone cocktail.
Hunnigan chuckled at the message and put the phone away, turning her attention to her laptop, deciding this was not the time or the place to think about this.
Helena frowned at Catnip upon noticing the dog was acting oddly agitated. He was pacing back and forth in front of the door, letting out tiny muffled grunts.
"I just took you for a walk, what's up?" she asked him. He glanced at her and continued his restless pacing and Helena went to grab his leash, thinking maybe he needed to go again. When she neared the door, Catnip bit onto the leg of her jeans and tugged her back, growling.
"Hey! What's wrong with you?" Helena frowned at him as he kept on pulling, obviously frustrated at the human's inability to understand. Then Helena heard the rustling sound in the hallway. It sounded like someone leaning to the door, trying to figure out the doorhandle.
"Chill, buddy, it's probably just mister Wertanen again," Helena sighed, rolling her eyes at the thought. He was an older gentleman who enjoyed his vodka and beer a bit too much, often so to the point of forgetting that his apartment was one floor higher, which had resulted in him trying his key into their lock a few times before. Helena moved to the door and Catnip resisted, his paws scratching on the floor as he tried to keep his stupid human from putting herself at risk.
"Oh, come on, you're being ridiculous," Helena scoffed at the dog and leaned to look through the peephole. It was not mister Wertanen.
Ingrid the Ice Queen rarely lost her cool despite often witnessing terrible things, but that was because up until now, she'd been lucky. Whenever shit had hit the fan, it had happened elsewhere and had been contained and dealt with... one way or another... before it had a chance to reach her doorstep or affect her personally. The field agents deployed to the scenes were trained for these situations and knew how to handle themselves, she rarely had to worry too much about them either (not even when the field agent in question was a lover or a close friend). So no, she didn't often have to worry too much... not until today.
"Oh, my God, was that a flashbang?" was the first thing Hunnigan could make out over the sound of gunfire and the ringing in her ears. What a stupid question, wasn't it obvious? She would've been more curious to know how the group currently tearing through the place had managed to find their location. For obvious reasons the HQ was masquerading as a simple holding company and as far as anyone looking in from the outside knew, they were like any other asset management company.
So whoever is busting in and tossing flashbangs has to have an inside source, Hunnigan thought.
Considering how far and how deep these terrorist groups seemed to reach, it wasn't a surprise. Frankly, Hunnigan was surprised it had taken this long for them to have received some tactical advice from someone who knew what they were doing. Wiping out or even temporarily incapacitating the D.S.O. would result in a full operational stand down which would leave the people behind the attack with a window of opportunity. It would be a small window, the other branches and agents would react within minutes upon noticing communication to the HQ had been severed... but if you were a field agent and in the dark regarding your options and important details like where the hell the extraction zone was... one minute became an eternity.
Hunnigan almost threw a punch when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she hadn't heard anyone sneak up on her for obvious reasons. She sighed, visibly relieved when she saw director Shepard.
"We have to get to the shelter," he said and Hunnigan agreed; it was the building's heart, meticulously shielded from any imaginable attack, the communication equipment there would still be up and running. Getting there would be the real challenge.
"Where's everyone else?" Hunnigan asked. As much as she appreciated his presence, she loathed the idea of being considered some kind of a damsel in distress who'd needed him to personally rescue her... even if technically that was kind of true. Hunnigan could handle herself if she needed to, she'd gone through the same basic training any D.S.O. agent had to go through even if they were just a "desk jockey", but it had been a while ago since her last training boot camp. And frankly, a few hours of half-assed training hardly prepared you for a real situation. She knew her weapons and how to handle them, but she never had one anywhere near her. Unlike Shepard, apparently. Then again, he was a former marine and confident with handling weapons, Hunnigan was sure he never left home without a gun.
"There weren't a lot of us around to begin with, most are still on their summer vacation. The ones who didn't get out are on their way to the shelter, Leon's handling that. You're the only loose end, agent Hunnigan," he grinned and checked his handguns once more. Sometimes Hunnigan was convinced that man enjoyed the fights.
"All right," she sighed, squared her shoulders and nodded, preparing to make a run for it.
Shepard flattened himself against the doorframe and took a quick a peek. He pulled back merely a fraction of a second before a hail of bullets impacted into the wall and flew past.
"Hu! I guess we're not going that way," he actually chuckled.
I'm gonna die here, Hunnigan thought.
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit," Helena hissed at the sight which greeted her as she looked through the peephole. The hallway was bustling with panicking people running out from the building. Someone had sounded the fire alarm which was admittedly good thinking, it was sure to get everyone's attention and get them to evacuate, and hopefully caught the emergency services' attention too, but the downside was the noise which had quickly attracted the infected and they were swarming over.
Her phone rang and she rushed over to it to silence it before it revealed her presence.
"Hunnigan?"
"Helena, I... to the ranch... satellite and I think... you have to..."
"Say again, I can't..."
"Go...Emily... ranch and... here!"
The call ended abruptly and when Helena glanced at her phone, it informed her that there was no service.
"Fuck!" she hissed and sighed then. Catnip circled her feet, restlessly expecting the human to figure something out and fast.
"All right... I guess we're going to the ranch," she decided. Helena rushed to the study and unlocked the safe. She holstered the handgun at her hip and slid the Hydra into the holster on her back, quickly buckled the utility belt on her waist and grabbed all the ammo she could carry.
"Now, what am I gonna do with you?" she asked from Catnip. He tilted his head to the side and whimpered.
"All right, buddy... let's go," she said, put the leash on him and snuck to the door. Deciding not to take any chances, she picked the dog into her arms and made a run for it.