Ministry of Defence, Whitehall

20:01 GMT+1 (19:00 GMT July 21st)

Time To Detonation: 2 hours 59 minutes

Team Victor Delta, Team Foxtrot One,
Team Victor Romeo, Sierra Zero-Zero,
Reserve One
Charlie Tango Zero-Three/Zero-Seven

Team Foxtrot One

Something nagged at Kick-Ass, but he had no idea what, only that something was decidedly off, and he could see that something was bothering Hit Girl – more than the basic fact that they were pursuing nuclear devices set to detonate in less than three hours.

"We've been here before," Hit Girl muttered from the passenger seat beside Kick-Ass who sat in the driver's seat of a Discovery Sentinel.

"London? Yeah," Kick-Ass replied.

"Not that."

"What?"

"This stinks," Hit Girl said. "I've not had this feeling since I was eleven."

"Eleven? But that was back when..."

"Red Mist - just before he shot me; I had a feeling I had never felt before. It was only afterwards I realised that it was my sense of self-preservation coming to the fore. I'm feeling it now. Somebody is going to get badly hurt. Last time, it was my Daddy . . . and almost me."

Kick-Ass did not query his partner as he had been present for those very same events and if she was feeling...

"All units, code eighteen-thirteen, repeat, code eighteen-thirteen."

Instantly, every member of the assault teams (except for the police) went on alert, their weapons were readied, and eyes scanned every rooftop, tree, vehicle, bus stop, and rubbish bin – in fact, checking out anything which could be used to conceal an enemy gunman. Rage radioed the two Charlie Tango (CTSFO) teams accompanying them who quickly began to deploy from their vehicles which were scattered around Whitehall. Their weapons were aimed at the nearby towering rooftops. Charlie Tango Zero-Three, consisting of sixteen men caused tourists to scatter as they moved up Whitehall to the left of the Cenotaph, weapons raised.

Then the shit did not exactly hit the fan – it fucking obliterated it – as simultaneously, Foxtrot One and Victor Delta both came under attack.


Team Victor Delta

With a flash of light and a roar of flame, an unguided rocket struck the ground just inches from the left front panel of the Range Rover Sentinel belonging to Victor Delta and detonated.

Only the body armour of the armoured vehicle saved the occupants from instant death but the left front tyre was badly shredded and the weight of the vehicle was now on the run-flat inner module. In response to the attack, Sleuth switched the transmission into reverse and he reversed hard down Horse Guards Avenue in the direction of the trees at Whitehall Gardens and the Victoria Embankment beyond which ran the River Thames.

A pair of shocked tourists stood stock still in the middle of the street causing Sleuth to jink the vehicle at speed as Stripe stabbed at the '999' button on the dashboard to trigger the blue strobes and the siren.


Team Foxtrot One & Team Victor Romeo

Before anyone in the Discovery Sentinel allocated to Foxtrot One could react, Fury pointed out of the front window and yelled into Kick-Ass' ear.

"MOVE!"

Kick-Ass flicked the transmission into drive and he floored the accelerator. All four heavyweight tyres screeched as they hauled the multi-tonne vehicle forwards at speed as another unguided rocket struck the tarmac where they had been parked just a few seconds previously. The rocket had been launched by a man from across the river near to the London Eye and the moment they had turned left onto Parliament Street opposite Downing Street and they sped past The Cenotaph; they were safe – almost. Gunfire struck their vehicle as they passed The Red Lion pub on their way to Parliament Square. CTSFO Zero-Three engaged the gunmen even as Kick-Ass threw the large 4x4 into a one-eighty-degree turn, tyres screeching and the horns of other drivers blaring. They raced past a red police mini-bus which was disgorging seven armed officers of CTSFO Zero-Seven – the remainder of the team were exiting vehicles further up Whitehall.

Amidst the chaos, Minder reversed hard to get out of dodge while Belle and Rigour kept an eye open. Then a vehicle – a Ford Transit van raced out of Horse Guards Avenue and rammed the Discovery Sentinel in the left side which itself was shoved into the wrought iron gates of Horse Guards. Rigour was thrown to the far side of the vehicle even as, with a screech of steel, Minder dropped the transmission into drive and she used the mass of the vehicle to shove the Ford Transit bodily out of the way and she U-turned, towards Trafalgar Square. However, she knocked down a mercenary who fired his assault rifle at the armoured vehicle badly chipping the bonnet and windscreen. Minder slammed on the brakes and swiftly dismounted, followed by Rigour and Belle. The man was still alive despite the collision and while the two girls provided covering fire, Minder pulled the man's face towards her own.

"Who the fuck are you?" she growled.

The man grinned through bloody teeth as he fought to speak through the pain of his damaged body. "Must smart to be wrong, bitch!" Then he died.

"Damn!" Minder yelled as she dropped the man to the road and then she paused amidst the gun battle which was underway on Whitehall. "The bomb isn't in the MoD – we've been played."

"Then where the hell is it?" Belle demanded.

"Buggered if I know," Minder retorted. "Get in!"

Minder headed down Horse Guards Avenue in the direction of the river.


SCOURGE

Obsidian saw the flash of the launch but not the rocket as it struck the ground ahead of Victor Delta.

There! She had caught the flash of the launch from a rooftop to the north of the Ministry of Defence building. It was a man with a rocket launcher and what appeared to be additional weapons as well as four more men.

"Reserve One, Scourge – exit north! Reserve One, Scourge – exit north! Break! Sierra Zero-Zero, Scourge! Over!"

"Zero-Zero copies."

"Zero-Zero, we have business for you. Rooftop. One hundred yards north of MoD building northwest corner."

"I have the target," Songbird responded. "Commencing take-down. Zero-Zero out!"

Rampart brought the helicopter around to keep a close eye on what was going on down below them.


Reserve One

The Jaguar XF Shooting Brake took off at speed as Doctrina obeyed the command to depart the area as fast as possible.

They had no idea what was going on, but the command was explicit, and they raced along Whitehall Court and into Whitehall Place before coming out onto Northumberland Avenue where they parked up outside the Tube entrance to Embankment Station. Their job was to keep well out of harm's way and provide medical assistance as needed. Though they may end up in the thick of it, there was no requirement for them to be put at risk and to be taken out within the first few minutes.

The sounds of battle reverberating around the streets of Whitehall, the very centre of British Government, were magnified by the massive Government buildings such as the Foreign & Commonwealth Office and HM Treasury, as well as the old Admiralty Buildings. Smoke was rising from more than one location beyond the buildings and out of sight of those sitting inside the vehicle. Sirens screamed from all directions as the police, fire, and ambulance responded to the rapidly unfolding incidents around the centre of London.

Pyrrha was not happy with the situation but, she reasoned, she was out of the direct firing line at least.


Sierra Zero-Zero

Songbird aimed her spotter's scope and swiftly found the moving targets – she thought of them, not as men, but simply as targets.

She felt nothing for them – actually, she felt more when she stood on an ant or a spider scrambling for its very being. The same applied to the woman lying prone beside Songbird, an Accuracy International Arctic Warfare Magnum known as the L115A4 in British military service cradled in her arms. Songbird began to call out the required details for Leon to adjust her weapon and stance.

"Target, range four-forty yards, wind 3 from zero one four."

"Adjusting," Leon responded as she subtly adjusted her stance to move the end of the suppressed barrel a fraction of a degree to the right and upwards.

In the Schmidt & Bender 5-25×56mm PM II LP telescopic sight, a man came into view. That man had no idea that he had less than a minute to live. Leon went into a form of mild hypnosis as she concentrated on ensuring that one-shot, one-kill would be the rule that day. Everything around her seemed to vanish – the sounds, the presence of Songbird, the smells, the sights outside of what she saw through her circular world of the telescopic sight. Only what mattered filtered through to her brain. She watched the movement of the trees in the background of her shot and how the wind affected them and thus how the wind might affect the flight trajectory of the .338-calibre Lapua Magnum bullet. Then, after what seemed an age but had only been six seconds, Leon's brain directed her trigger finger to squeeze gently on the trigger which was already at breaking point. With a dull crack, the 16.2-gram bullet exploded out of the muzzle of the suppressor at over three-thousand feet-per-second.

The bullet covered the almost fifteen-hundred feet distance in less than a second and buried itself deep into the brain of the target. The massive impact force generated almost seven-thousand joules of energy which had to go somewhere. In the man's case, the energy simply expanded in a spherical motion and his head came apart, splattering the rooftop and one of his colleagues with bone, blood, and grey brain matter. That colleague also was unaware of his somewhat reduced lifespan as he turned and watched the body falling, only he too died of exploding head syndrome before the first body fell completely to the roof top. Three men remained but only for fifteen more seconds as they each scurried around like cockroaches which just made Leon's task into a challenge which she relished as each man dropped, one by one.

"Scourge, Zero-Zero. Rooftop cleared. Zero-Zero out."

With five targets dead, Leon nonchalantly ejected the empty five-round box magazine and inserted a second box magazine loaded with five .338-calibre Lapua Magnum rounds.


Some fourteen miles to the west...

Heathrow Airport

20:01 GMT+1 (19:00 GMT July 21st)

Time To Detonation: 2 hours 59 minutes

Team Victor Alpha, Team Foxtrot Four,
Reserve Two, Brigade Patrol Troop
Charlie Tango Zero-One/Zero-Four/One-One

Team Victor Alpha

It was Custos who first noticed something amiss as everyone scanned the airport with powerful binoculars from multiple locations, searching for anything out of the ordinary which might indicate the presence of an enemy.

It was the movements which indicated something out of the ordinary to the young vigilante. Somebody was skulking around the Terminal 3 car park in a manner which was not that of someone who was merely heading to or coming back from a flight. After watching for about twenty minutes, the boy was able to ascertain that two women and three men were 'patrolling' around the top deck of the six-storey parking structure. That was not normal; nobody in their right mind hung around the car park for any longer than needed – not at the astronomical fees charged to park there at any rate! Team Victor Alpha headed over to the carpark in their Range Rover Sentinel, navigating the tortuous airport roadways which seemed to make very little sense to Drift as he drove with assistance from his backseat navigation system.

"You're in the wrong lane," Noxa pointed out. "Again!"

Polaris laughed as Drift swerved into the next lane just before they missed the turnoff into the carpark. At the barrier, Drift grabbed a ticket and passed through as soon as the barrier raised. They drove up the circular ramp as fast as was safe, going round and round until they reached Level 1 where they continued on up the next ramp. At Level 2, Noxa and Custos dived out of the vehicle and raced down the length of the level to the fire stairs at the far end while Drift continued up the next ramp with Necis and Polaris. At Level 4, Drift bypassed the ramp to the roof level and he guided the Range Rover Sentinel towards the far end of the level where he slowed briefly to allow Necis and Polaris to dive out and join the mass of people heading for the lifts which led to Terminal 3 and the upper carpark levels.

Drift then raced off back down Level 4 towards the vehicle ramp which led up onto the roof.


Team Foxtrot Four, Reserve Two,
Charlie Tango Zero-One/Zero-Four/One-One

The three sixteen-man CTSFO teams had converged on the Terminal 3 carpark – their presence, in their unmarked minibuses was fairly common due to the potential terrorist threat on a major travel artery such as Heathrow Airport – and were in position at ground level where the carpark had exits outside, inside Terminal 3 where the bridge entered from the carpark, and at the vehicular exit.

Also present, was Reserve Two parked up in their Audi A6 Avant in the Terminal 3 drop-off/collection zone and Team Foxtrot Four in their Discovery Sentinel parked up beside the entrance of the Terminal 3 carpark ready to breech at a moment's notice should Custos' hunch prove real.

That just left Brigade Patrol Troop (Bravo Papa One) and NIGHTSHADE.


Brigade Patrol Troop & NIGHTSHADE

On stand 402, the two helicopters had restarted their still-warm engines and their rotor blades were turning at take-off revolutions.

Captain Racell and the eleven Royal Marines Commandoes under his command were aboard the Royal Air Force Puma HC.2 of 230 Squadron – callsign Xray-Whiskey – and as the helicopter pilot increased the angle of attack on the rotor blades and the helicopter began to lift off, the door gunner pulled back on the charging handle for the 7.62-millimetre pintle-mounted GPMG (General Purpose Machine Gun) on the starboard side.

Just yards away, Scorpion increased power to the three turboshaft engines mounted over her head and increased the pitch of the rotor blades causing the fully-armed helicopter to lift off the concrete. Goshawk monitored the distances between the tips of the wildly spinning main and tail rotor blades and the nearest sections of terminal as well as the other helicopter. A collision and the subsequent results were not worth contemplating and it would see the end of the mission.

"Clear aft! Clear port!" Goshawk intoned.

"Clear Starboard!" Chief added from aft and the helicopter lifted into the busy sky under guidance of the control tower.

The guidance from the control tower was essential as the two helicopters needed to travel some 1,700 yards across one of the busiest airports in the world as well as crossing the terribly busy southern runway without being speared by an innocent Airbus or Boeing as they crossed. Amidst the multicolour fuselages and tails, the black Merlin helicopter, and the Puma helicopter in brown and green camouflage paint, flew in a direct line north towards Terminal 2 to make a rapid crossing of the southern runway at three-hundred feet before swiftly dropping onto the concrete at stand 221, hidden from the Terminal 2 carpark by the structure of Terminal 2 itself.

Whether they had been seen was unknown, but the movement was essential for a swift assault as needed.


Team Victor Alpha

Drift drove the Range Rover Sentinel up the final ramp at the south-eastern end of the carpark at the same time as Noxa and Custos emerged from the lift shaft at the northern end of the carpark and as Polaris and Necis emerged from the lift shaft at the southern end of the carpark closest to where Drift had emerged in the armoured vehicle.

The rooftop carpark was not full by any means with only around a hundred-and-twenty vehicles in situ out of the nearly four-hundred which could be accommodated on that level. There were also maybe forty or fifty people milling about as well as around a dozen vehicles searching out a parking space on the two-acre roof. Very few noticed the blacked out Range Rover Sentinel and the hooded individuals who appeared from the fire stairs at each end of the level.

Noxa and Custos took advantage of the crowds as they mingled and moved towards the cars, their eyes scanning for the men and women 'patrolling' who were their targets. Polaris and Necis moved past the first rank of cars parked end on before they crossed over to the first double rank of vehicles and stopped behind a Renault MPV.

"Over there," Custos said to Noxa, looking at where a woman walked away from them both, about twenty cars up the second of the four roadways. "Custos has one female: green jacket, brown hair, in the second roadway heading north."

"Two men, green jackets and brown hair heading south on the third roadway," Polaris radioed.

"I have two women: green jackets, blonde hair, heading towards me on the fourth roadway, heading south," Drift added from where he was parked up across two parking bays.

About half way up the third double rank of vehicles, a small concrete building occupying the equivalent of three parking bays contained a third set of fire stairs which was cordoned off as 'under-repair', however, a swift check with the airport confirmed that no repair had been ordered or was believed necessary. The shaft in which the concrete stairs were built descended seven stories – two were below ground and tapped into the expansive service network beneath the airport.

Team Foxtrot Four were immediately directed towards the nearest ramp which would allow them to reach the bottom of the fire stairs.


Team Foxtrot Four

They abandoned their vehicle and raced towards a set of fire doors.

The doors opened outwards and required the assistance of a crowbar sported by Slinter to wrench the doors open. Tigercat and Hellcat moved forwards, Heckler & Koch UMP submachineguns fitted with suppressors, torches, and laser sights to their shoulders, with Ravage close behind. The fire stairs were just that, and were only to be used in an emergency. A such, the décor was fairly bare and little more than bare concrete with plastic furnishings on the steel staircase and concrete steps. The fluorescent light fittings were wall-mounted and cast an eerie glare across the almost bare window-less concrete shaft. Tigercat aimed his weapon up the flight of steps while Hellcat aimed her weapon downwards to the first landing below leading to the next level. The tactical situation sucked, Tigercat thought just a second before the boy was proved right.

The boy heard a 'thunk' and then another and another. He turned to the steps heading upwards and he watched, mesmerised, as three cylindrical devices bounced down the steps in their direction. Tigercat shoved his sister, Hellcat, into Ravage, shoving them both back out the fire doors.

"Get down!" the boy yelled finally as he jumped and knocked Hellcat and Ravage to their feet. "Grenades!"

Astute could only crouch down behind the Discovery Sentinel as three explosions echoed out from the fire stairs, blowing the fire doors clean off their hinges.


Team Victor Alpha

Drift had heard the single word and the fact that it was plural indicated that the enemy were not fucking about!

"Take them down!" he ordered even as the sound of the triple detonation echoed around the parking structure and surrounding area, a cloud of billowing smoke and dust rapidly expanding for a hundred yards all around. "Nightshade, Drift – you're cleared in hot!"

Custos dropped his hood and he raised his suppressed Colt Canada C8-CQB carbine, taking a second to sight the weapon on his target – he had to be accurate as their were too many non-combatants milling about, including women and children – and then he squeezed the trigger three times. The patrolling woman dropped even as she came around, her right hand hauling something out from underneath her green jacket. As Custos and Noxa ran towards the dropped mercenary, Drift lit off the blue strobe lights of the Range Rover Sentinel, momentarily distracting the other mercenaries and drawing fire from multiple submachine guns.

Custos found his target on the ground in a spreading pool of blood. His three bullets had drilled the woman in the chest, shredding her heart and lungs. In her right hand, she held an Uzi Pro attached to a leather harness for concealment purposes. While Custos covered her, Noxa cut away the weapon and then cleared it. Screaming women and children had abandoned their suitcases and bags before running towards the nearest staircase. Polaris and Necis had to ward off those civilians running for the 'under repair' fire stairs even as they killed two more mercenaries while two more took cover behind available vehicles.

Then an unknown number emerged from that same 'under repair' staircase and spread out in two person teams.


NIGHTSHADE & Xray-Whiskey
Brigade Patrol Troop

The two helicopters lifted off in tandem and once unmasked from behind Terminal 2, separated and flew directly at the Terminal 3 carpark.

Below them, the CTSFO teams, Charlie Tango Zero-One, Zero-Four, and One-One ensured that the entire carpark was secure with an airtight cordon around it. Scorpion brought NIGHTSHADE around and entered into a hover at the southern corner of the Terminal 3 carpark from where Chief could cover the area with his pintle-mounted Maximi in the main starboard door. The pilot of Xray-Whiskey brought his Puma HC.2 helicopter in from the east, dropping into a hover approximately forty yards to the west of the target structure. With a yell from the loadmaster aboard, Captain Racell and Sergeant Barclay led their ten men down ropes which hung from each side of the helicopter. As soon as they were all down safely, Xray-Whiskey moved off to a point a hundred yards to the northwest from where its own gunner could watch and provide covering fire as needed.

The Royal Marines Commandoes immediately came under fire, but their first job was to coordinate with Charlie Tango Zero-Four who had emerged from the northern exit to provide covering fire for the unfortunate civilians caught up in the firefight. Several were injured; either from falling, being shoved and banged against vehicles, or from bullet and shrapnel wounds. Either way, they all had to be shepherded down to the second level from where they could cross over into the relative safety of the main terminal building. For those in the immediate area, the usually deafening sound of multi-engine aircraft taking off and landing was muted by the much closer sound of gunfire as a battle ensued atop the carpark of Terminal 3.

As of that moment, Terminal 2 and Terminal 3 of Heathrow Airport were officially closed and dozens of inbound aircraft were rerouted to Gatwick and Stansted airports.


A dozen miles to the east...

The Royal Albert Hall

20:01 GMT+1 (19:00 GMT July 21st)

Time To Detonation: 2 hours 59 minutes

Team Victor Charlie, Alpha Troop
Charlie Tango Zero-Two/Zero-Six

Team Victor Charlie

Nemesis had still not found a solution to her conundrum.

Whatever fighting occurred would have to be confined to the non-public parts of the massive structure – it would be the only way to prevent unnecessary and heavy loss of civilian life. That meant that the fighting would have to be severely contained and therefore initiated by Vengeance at a place of their choosing. After advising the conductor and those in charge of the RHA (Royal Albert Hall) of the basics – without mention of a potential nuclear device – and the need to keep everyone in the main auditorium, the show began and the battle commenced minutes later.

Two of Captain McFadden's men had scouted around the facility and identified a number of individuals who did not fit amongst the more musical types currently in residence. Some stealthy photography had also identified at least two known individuals and confirmed that the so-called Axis of Evil was in residence in the lowest of the basements down a warren of ancient passageways some only three feet in height. Six two-person Metropolitan Police Trojan units (armed police) cordoned off the RAH in concert with unarmed police officers of the Metropolitan Police ensuring that nobody entered, and nobody left the building. The two CTSFO teams allocated to the RAH – Zero-Two & Zero-Six – were spread out and guarding the access points between the public and non-public areas making them one-way affairs. It was down to Captain McFadden to take the first shot.

As the young officer crept along a dimly lit brick passageway some forty or fifty feet below the main auditorium, she saw movement ahead of her. Her Colt Canada C8-CQB carbine adjusted slightly and then the passageway was momentarily lit up by two rounds fired from her suppressed weapon, the suppressed gunshots echoed around the passageway even as the ejected brass tinkled off the brickwork and dropped to the brick floor. That was then followed by the thump of a body striking the very same brick floor a dozen yards away and the clatter of a weapon. Swiftly, the captain and two of her Royal Marines moved forward. The dead body turned out to be a man in military fatigues with two holes centre mass and a dropped M4 carbine lying beside the corpse. Of note were the expensive military-grade NVGs which hung from the man's neck.

Stepping over the cooling corpse, the captain found herself at a bend in the corridor to the left. Carefully, she used a small steel mirror to peer around the bend. Her expert eyes picked up what could only be a blockade of sorts made up from discarded desks and chairs which blocked most of the passageway. On the positive side, the passageway had broadened somewhat beyond the bend to be about six feet across and maybe five feet in height. A few hand grenades would normally work well in such a circumstance, but nobody had any desire to be buried under tons of brickwork which was probably well over a hundred years old.

Instead, a more subtle approach was in order using a flanking manoeuvre of some kind, the young captain considered.


Some thirty-six-hundred miles
away, across the Atlantic Ocean...

Potomac Park, Washington D.C.
United States of America

15:01 GMT-4 (19:01 GMT July 21st)

Time To Detonation: 2 hours 59 minutes

Team Bourne

The family group had opted for a direct and violent approach.

Together, they had exited their vehicle and with SIG Sauer MPX carbines raised to their shoulders, they emerged from the treeline. The enemy had been observed, just fifteen minutes earlier, congregating in what appeared to be some form of shift change. Four women and two men had met up with a group of six men. They had talked for a few moments before they had then split up into four groups of three, each of which headed off in a different direction. Siren engaged, dropping a woman armed with what she thought was an UZI. That was confirmed less than a minute later as nine-millimetre bullets swept past the girl who had instinctively thrown herself to the ground into a prone firing position. Snake Eyes landed beside his sister and together, they both engaged the enemy.

As a result of the opening shots fired by their daughter, Spectre and Wraith quickly came under fire themselves and they just as quickly sought cover behind a stout tree. The area rang with the sound of automatic gunfire as the two sides engaged one another. Frantic civilians ran for cover, some running towards the gunfire instead of away in their panic. More than one citizen drew a concealed pistol and attempted to engage what they thought to be the enemy. In fact, Siren felt two badly-aimed bullets streak past her and she swore violently as she turned and identified some overweight twat in a 'TRUMP 2017' baseball cap. The girl expertly shot the man in both lower legs causing him to collapse and drop the weapon he obviously had no idea how to use. Some of the sounds of battle were drowned out by Highway 1 and Interstate 395, both of which curled past the memorial. But bullets were bullets and they flew with deadly accuracy in most cases, striking anything in their path. Cars were struck and windows were shattered. Flesh was pierced and the injured screamed. But the dead made no sound as they fell to the ground in a pool of their own blood.

Within a minute, sirens could be heard screaming as police vehicles poured into the Potomac Park. Then armed police officers deployed to add to the confusion where four people armed with automatic weapons could be seen shooting down men and women wearing National Park Service ranger uniforms – and come to the obvious, but very wrong, conclusion. Almost immediately, the Bourne family came under fire from AR-15 assault rifles, shotguns, and pistols.

"Motherfucking wankers!" Siren yelled out as she flattened herself on a patch of grass. "We're the fucking good guys!"

"Stop fucking shooting at us and go back to your fucking doughnuts!" Snake Eyes called out. "They ain't fucking rangers!"

Mercifully, an enterprising police officer suddenly realised that National Park Service rangers were not generally issued with Israeli machine-pistols and he called out a change of target.


Over on the far side of the country...

Los Angeles, United States of America

12:01 GMT-7 (19:01 GMT July 21st)

Time To Detonation: 2 hours 59 minutes

Team L.A. & Team S.D.

Revenge was sweet.

Lilim wrought death and bodies fell in clouds of bodily effluent which coated the walls, ceilings, and floors in a red covering. For the second time in as many months the Aon Centre flowed with blood.

The cleaning crews had taken almost two weeks to remove the blood spatter from the reception area and replace parts of the carpeting. As for the 28th floor, that had only been back in use eight days after an almost complete rebuild. Despite the CEO of the Tomahawk Group having been declared an outlaw and gone on the run, his 'outwardly legal' business ventures had continued for the sake of the hundreds and thousands of employees who relied on the group for their very existence. Indeed, the group's shares had plummeted somewhat as a direct result of Dieter's actions and the American entity was the subject of a takeover bid by the British leviathan Cockburn Holdings Ltd. However, should the nuclear device, located somewhere within the towering Aon Centre detonate, then the takeover as a direct result was expected to fail.

Lilim did not overtly care about corporate takeovers, but she did care about decimating all those who stood in her way. Her state of mind was not what was deemed correctly focused by many in the vigilante profession and her friends were more than concerned with that state of mind. It was a state of mind which could get the girl killed, they knew, but there was decidedly little they could do about it considering the cavernous loss in her life. Lilith and Trauma both knew that the only way to survive their chosen lives of violence was to be correctly focused; constantly and correctly focused. If Lilim was to survive to a ripe old age – or just to survive the night – then she would need to be protected from herself and from those who would try to do her harm.

As on their last fateful outing, the remaining members of Team San Diego were joined by the vigilantes who looked after Los Angeles. Venom and Bane were operating as a pair, guarding each other as they fought through yet another seemingly endless throng of well-armed rent-a-goons. Blades in the hands of Lilim were making inroads as Lilith and Trauma caught those Lilim missed as she operated with a form of tunnel vision brought on by her deep-felt desire for revenge. Paradox took a moment to gaze around the reception area with its shattered glazing, broken ceiling tiles dangling from above and spread across the once highly-polished marble floor below. That same marble floor was now a slippery bloody mess pockmarked by bullets and marked with pools of corrosive bodily fluids not to mention the torn corpses which littered the floor in various states of contorted agony. Then there was the ever-pervading stench of death...

The rasp of blades clashing and the dull thunk of those same blades as they dug deep into armour, then flesh, and through to the bone echoed as the fighting moved through the capacious reception area and onto the stairs – the elevators having been locked out remotely by Crypto. The enemy were well-equipped for the fight and it would not be easy to fight to the required level in the building – the required level which they did not yet know. However, they had a plan for that, as always. Lilith's plan was to rein in Lilim's quest for revenge just long enough to allow them to capture some unfortunate bastard for intensive and terminal interrogation.

Paradox and Domitor pushed through the throng of men and women on the third floor of the tower having gained entry from the bloody carnage on the fire stairs. Paradox's experienced eyes swiftly identified an enemy fighter who appeared to be in charge of a group of men and, unfortunately for that man, he instantly became a target of opportunity for the pair.

"We'll take the load-mouthed bastard giving orders," Paradox directed and the pair moved apart to entrap the man.

The area outside the elevators and the exit from the fire stairs was not all that large and the fighting was very much hand to hand with the odd blast from a pistol where someone found room. Paradox kicked and punched, using the walls to rebound his enemy back at him for another round of kicks and punches. One man really did not get the hint as he received kick after kick and punch after punch; nothing seemed to put the bastard down. Paradox decided that enough was enough and he drew his forty-inch dragon katana and hacked the man's head off in one smooth strike before the annoying cunt could pose any further hinderance. Blood flew in every direction, adding to the macabre fight in the elevator lobby on the third floor. A man slipped on his colleague's still warm blood and fell hard onto the floor, tripping up the leader who was their target. Paradox stabbed the first man in the heart with his fighting knife and then proceeded to stab the leader in the right arm causing the man to drop his own fighting knife. Paradox seized the man around the neck and dragged him towards the elevators, partially throttling the man into submission.

Domitor fought off any of the enemy who tried to assist their leader but the attention of the waning defensive force was diverted by the timely arrival of Mist and Bane who proceeded to create a perfect distraction even as Crypto released the doors of one of the elevators which opened just as Paradox reached them and he dragged his reluctant captive directly inside. Bullets pounded into the elevator's back wall as Paradox and Domitor kept their head's down.

"Now would be a good time, Crypto!" Paradox yelled as the bullets continued to strike.

"Closing the doors!" Crypto responded from the safehouse.

Even as the elevator doors closed and bullets peppered them into Swiss cheese, a woman charged at Domitor who was guarding the elevator door while Paradox pinned down his trophy. The woman used her momentum to drive Domitor into the elevator just as the doors snapped shut but not before a fifth individual flew through the doors and slashed the woman's back open with a short fighting knife.

Paradox was concerned to see the woman but a little stunned to then see a compact red and grey object fly through the closing elevator doors. He quickly identified the object as Lilim and groaned – she was the last person he wanted in the elevator at that moment. The elevator was only eight feet by six feet in size and with Paradox doing his best to control the man twice his size to one side, and a frenzied cat fight underway between the woman and Lilim on the other, Domitor was left with the task of dodging flailing limbs and bladed instruments as the elevator began to rise which at least meant that the constant hammering on the doors, which now had dozens of new ventilation holes in them, stopped. Finally, after what seemed like minutes if not hours but was in reality only seconds, Domitor had had enough and he drew his FN Five-seveN Mk2 pistol from his holster and he put a single round into the struggling woman's left thigh and then the right thigh which seemed to take the fight out of her. Then, before Lilim could kill the woman, Domitor pinned the struggling vigilante against the righthand wall of the elevator.

"STOP!" he bellowed and Lilim stopped struggling, her chest heaving as she controlled her breathing and glared down at the woman who lay in a pool of her own blood in obvious agony, her expression full of hatred and pain.

"Glad that's over," Paradox commented dryly as he stripped both prisoners of weapons, throwing them all at Lilim – none too gently.

With both secured by steel handcuffs at their wrists, the two captives glared up at the three vigilantes.

"Hello, my name is Paradox, and I have a problem," Paradox began conversationally. "I need to find the nuclear device you cretins have chosen to secrete somewhere in this high-rise monstrosity. Now, which one of you will be the first to tell me the right answer? Will it be the bell-end on my left or will it be the trollop on my right? I wish I could promise you two muppets that I would let you live, but this daft cow here," Paradox jerked a thumb at Lilim, "wants to kill the manky bitch bleeding all over my lift. Any takers? A floor would be nice, just to narrow things down."

"Fuck you!" the man responded.

"So original!" Domitor commented.

"That wins you a prize, sport!" Paradox said as he shot the man in the left leg, the .40-calibre Smith & Wesson bullet shattering the bones and passing through into the floor of the elevator.

The man screamed out in agony but his eyes watched the smoking muzzle of the all-black Browning Hi-Power Mark III pistol held just a foot from his face. The firing of the large pistol inside the small confines of the elevator had been all but deafening, however, it appeared to have had its effect.

"Now," Paradox said calmly. "Shall we start again?"

Fear showed in the two pairs of eyes and while both knew that they were going to die, they both wanted it to be quick.