Handing a coin to the driver of his taxi through the window, John takes in the sight of J.F.K International Space Port, a step up from the airport it once was. Doing up the suit jacket's first button as he walks, his eyes flicking over each person, silently evaluating them.
The threat each of them posed was negligible. Trained eyes spotted no hidden weapons, only a few appearing to have self-defence training by the way they held themselves. Still, nothing that was a threat to him or that could pierce his new Continental design three-piece suit.
John starts to move towards the meeting point Shepard had given him, becoming another face in the crowd. Another faceless suit covered body moving through the Space Port.
Shepard tugged on the lower part of his double-breast uniform to straighten it. He looked around for Mr Wick, who was due to arrive at any moment.
"Where is that man?" Growled Miranda, who was standing to his left. "He decided on the timetable."
"New York traffic mess with the best-laid plans, Miss Lawson." A voice from behind them answers.
"Don't do that!" Snapped Shepard as he spun around, Miranda looking almost as shocked as he was. The self-admitted ice queen was controlled her reaction much better than her commanding officer.
"Apologizes Commander." Answered Wick, his brown eyes giving away nothing, not even a hint of amusement.
Choosing to pick his battles, Shepard decided to let the topic drop. "Alright, the Normandy will arrive in about 20 minutes, getting the clearance to land came with some... complications."
Instead of giving a response as Shepard expected from anyone else, Wick just nodded. Justifying Shepard's thoughts that Wick was not remote the same as "anyone else". I always pick up the weird ones.
Noticing that Miranda was opening her mouth to speak, Shepard prepared to defuse a hostile Miranda but before either of them could talk John moved. A vicious palm strike into seemingly thin air sent a suit covered figure flying. The figure moved to get up BANG! BANG! BANG! before three gunshots rang out.
"We need to move." Stated no ordered Wick, holding the unknown model of pistol he had when they first met "Now."
"Right." Confirmed Shepard, drawing his own M-6 Carnifex while Miranda drew her M-5 Phalanx. "Miranda headcount!"
"Bloody well unknown!" Snapped back Miranda, scanning for targets. "Their optical camouflage makes them unseeable and uncountable!"
"Cascading overload," Interrupted John. His voice, unlike Shepard own, is calm and collected like he asked someone to pass the salt at dinner. "It will short out the camo."
Here goes nothing. "You heard the man, Miranda! Overload now!" Orders Shepard, watching as Miranda without a moment of hesitation launched the desired program out of her omni-tool. The program expanded itself as it moved, sailing in the area ahead of them and unveiled with a shower of sparks the numbers of their would-be killers. Fourteen men stood on the other end of the hanger dressed in fine suits wielding a mixed match of weaponry. SMG, assault rifles, heavy pistols and shotguns all finding their way toward the small team.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Three dozen guns opened fire, as rounds start to ping off Shepard's cover, pinning him in place before the sound of overheated rifles and switching thermal clips filled the air. Here's our chance.
Before Shepard could even give the order to open fire, John's pistol steaded and BANG! BANG! BANG! Barked out three rounds to the appearance of their attackers, cutting one down with the final bullet. Raising his own pistol and squeezing the trigger BANG! BANG! Shepard began to send rounds downrange, which stripped the shields of one man, his other round clipped their shoulder. Miranda, not a second behind him BANG! her round rip through the throat of Shepard's target.
Right we are outgunned here, need to fall back. As Shepard opened his mouth to lay out the plan, Wick had obviously come to a different conclusion. He broke out of cover and into a sprint toward the attackers' BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! fired off six rounds toward them. Dropped two more of their attackers before taking cover behind a crate.
"Miranda cover him!" Ordered Shepard, BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! His finger fanned the trigger as fast he could fire. The remainder of his thermal clip echoed. The rounds broke through the shields of one thug in a single shot, before the other three tore through his chest.
Miranda, glowing with dark energy, threw out a hand. She released a bubble of biotic power that slams into a group of 3. It sucked them into the air with the uncontrollable gravity waves of a singularity. As they flared around, a ball of blue fire designed to rip through armour and the very skin of their enemies, headed towards them. The textbook example of a warp hitting the miniature black hole, detonating it in a fiery mess of dark energy. However, this left her exposed.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Her shields held for the first three rounds, the substandard shield made to allow highly important VIPs to survive a few shots. That was nothing compared to the military models that were built into Miranda usual uniform, something she had not worn. The last two rip into the weak plate in her clothing and punctured her stomach.
"Miranda!" Cried out Shepard, his hands slammed a new thermal clip into his M-6, blurred hands were all that someone might see as he gunned down one of the assassins.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Three more rounds rang out from Wick's strange pistol. They ended the life of the assassins farthest away from him. That left only two in the hanger. Shepard watched as he stepped into the guard of one of the assassins. Wick grabbed the assassin's arm. With a movement, he forced the SMG towards two of the assassin's fellows.
PHHHHHHHHH!
They gunned them down without hesitation. Wick twisted his right arm and sent a strike to the killer's wrist. Which nocked his SMG away from him before he used his foot to sweep the assassin's legs out from under him.
BANG!
A single shot rang out into the second remaining assassin, hitting him in the calf which made him fall. Wick turned his pistol to the assassin on the ground.
BANG!
Shepard watched as Wick executed him with a clean round to the head, Wick began to walk forward, he brought his pistol around again towards the last assassin.
BANG!
That last shot ended the assassin life without a second thought, Shepard watched as Wick's eyes flick over the scene before him. Shepard at Miranda's side, hold on her stomach as she moaned in pain. Nothing, not a hint of sympathy for Miranda or shame for his own actions.
"How bad?" The tone Wick used was one that Shepard had only heard to ask about the weather, not for if a squadmate might be dying.
"Two shots through the bloody plating." Hissed out Miranda between clenched teeth. "Right into the stomach, I think they nicked the liver."
Again, nothing changed in Wick's expression like he was a marble statue, not a living, breathing man. "We can't afford to wait for your ship, more will come."
"Where do you expect us to go then?!" Snapped back Shepard, his patience for this day gone. He can imagine how he looks to Wick, lips peered back into a snarl. Blood smeared on his uniform and face, nothing compared to the pristine and unbloodied suit Wick sported.
"The Continental." With those last words, Wick walked forward, bent down and picked Miranda up bridal style.
John knew that this area was too dangers. They needed to move and move now. Transport from the Continental was the only option. The risk to Miranda and Shepard would be negligible. Meaning he needs to make a call. Bring up his Omni-tool with a shift, he sends the command.
"What's this Continental?" He could hear Shepards, annoyance, either at John for taking charge or the situation they have found themselves in. Neither mattered, focus in this situation was required, questions could be answered later.
"Johnathan." Winston's warm voice greats him from the call. Minimal conversation, this was no time for pleasantries.
"Winston, I need a limousine service." Both know the code, but whoever is listening in might not. It was a simple code for an emergency pickup, usually, one that requires a... certain type of driver. He had performed many over the years, now he was hoping that whoever Winston sent was competent.
"Where?" The warm tone was gone, replacing it was a baren tone that is only used for business.
"J.F.K, hanger eleven. I have a drunk guest, and I am going to need two rooms once we arrive." More code, a drunk guest tells him that someone is wounded while asking for two room's tell him the number of people.
"I'll cover the dinner bill then." Another code, this one tell him that Winston will handle the cleanup.
"Thank you, Winston." He says, now they have to hold till transport arrives. A somewhat simple task, this hanger is easy to defend. Good sightlines and cover, if Shepard skills live up to what Winston described to him, they will be fine.
"You mind filling me in on what that meant?" Demands Shepard, it is a reasonable request. He has no contacts in the world of the High Table and Continental. So these code words are unknown to him.
"Those I worked with lived by rules." He'll begin with the start. "The biggest rule being no business can be conducted on Continental ground. To stay hidden from prying eyes, we developed code phrases."
"The ones I just gave organised transport and a place to lay low." Shepard must see this is their best bet. Tactically they can't hold this building till extraction by the Commander's ship. "Another wave will be on its way. We have to hold till the transport arrives."
Shepard breaths in deeply, the man is weighing choices carefully. John can only pray that he makes the right one. "Alright, how long till the transport will arrive."
"Five minutes at most." Average response time for limousine services is fifteen minutes. He knows Winston will cut that down.
RAATATATATATA! He dives behind the metal crate as the rapid-fire weapon engages them, rounds bounce of his Kinetic barriers. He shields Miranda with his body. Either an M-76 Revenant or Continental model LMG, he is the only one here that can take that type of firepower. He places Miss Lawson gently on the ground, being careful not to aggravate her wounds.
"Damnit!" Shepard curses. "How did they arrive so fast?"
That didn't matter if they brought an LMG, this team will be smaller then the last. Mixing in would be assault rifles or designated Marksmen rifles, high stopping power and medium-range to compliment the LMGs suppression.
He does the only thing he can do, he waits.
RAATATATATATA! RAATATATATATA! RAATAT-CHINK!
Now, he rushes out from cover, his pistol raises, finding the LMGs operator within a second. He squeezes the trigger BANG! BANG! BANG! the shots rings out, hitting him. Once in the shoulder, that round exposes his head. The other two end him swiftly, brain matter splatters the ground behind him.
Four other men face him, each dressing in khaki pants, along with an armoured vest. One is armed with an M-96 Mattock, sixteen rounds per thermal clip. Semi-auto firing method, low recoil and high stopping power. The other three are armed with M-8 Avengers, thirty rounds per thermal clip. Full-auto firing method, middling recoil and stopping power.
The men wielding Avengers turn, BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Theyopen fire at him without a pause. He ducks to the ground, the shots going wide. Moving with focus, he sprints towards them. BAM! BAM! Two rounds slam into his barriers. He continues moving, bring his pistol up in a smooth motion.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Eight shots echo in the hanger, all of them meeting their mark. Brain matter spreads across the hanger, leaving it mixing in with dirt. The fourth man opens fire.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
The rounds break his barriers, but he can't stop now, pulling up his suits jacket. The fibre weave will be able to take any fire. Peering over the edge of the coat, he sees the man aim.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
The man fans the trigger as fast as he can. By his count, the man empties the Mattock thermal clip into his coat jacket. Each round hits his sleave and coat. Some bounce off the fibre weave and others embed themselves into the coat.
He reaches the man. A palm strike knocks the Mattock to the left. He follows up with a kick to the man's knee, knocking him to the ground, he aims the pistol at the man's head, BANG! Killing him with a swift shot.
"Good aim." Shepards voice draws from behind. "You think that will be the last wave?"
He nods in response, no reason to waste words. A short fight all things considered, around two minutes based off his internal clock. Now they have to wait.
The minutes pass in silence, and the sound of a vehicle fills the air. A nondescript black air car pulls by the hanger, coming to a halt near the entrance. Out of the driver's side door comes ones of Winston's most trusted men.
Charon walks forward, undisturbed by the gore and bodies around him. "Mr Wick."
"Charon."
"Your limousine is ready, sir."
They enter the Continental through a staff entrance. Winston is waiting for them, along with the Doctor. The Doctor speaks first, intent on helping his patient. "Which one of you are injured?"
Shepard answers, his worry obvious to those around him. "Miranda, two rounds to the stomach. We think one clipped the liver."
The Doctor frowns. "Well get you situated, and those wounds looked at."
"Charon will take Miss Lawson to her room, Commander Shepard." Cuts in Winston, his face would be unreadable to anyone that didn't know him. But John did, and Winston wanted to know what happened.
"You know me?" Questions Shepard.
Winston raises an eyebrow. "Few people living don't know your name Commander."
He could hear the amusement in Winston's voice. Shepard doesn't respond to that, which Winston uses to continue to speak. "My name is Winston Commander. I am the head of this fine establishment."
"A pleasure." Draws Shepard, crossing his arms across his chest. "Thank you for sheltering us."
"Oh, don't thank me, Commander," Winston says with an open smile. "Without Johnathan, you wouldn't be given access to our services. You should be thanking him."
Shepard spares him a glance, before turning back to Winston. "What do you get out of this."
"I gain nothing Commander," Answers Winston with amusement. "As I am sure Johnathan explained to you. No business can be conducted on these grounds. It is my job to ensure that and punishing those that break that rule."
"So this is all business then?" Questions Shepard. He must not believe that Winston would do this out of the kindness of his heart.
"Correct Commander, I have a job. My job is to manage this property to the standards that the High Table demands. One of those standards is to ensure our services when asked for are completed." Answers Winston.
"I see." Returns Shepard, for a person privy to some of the galaxies darkest secrets. Discover an underground criminal hotel that offers services to other criminals must be a shock. He can understand Shepard having questions.
"I will happily answer any question you have later Commander." Offers Winston. "But might I suggest getting some food."
"I agree." He speaks for the first time in the conversation. Helen would have said he never wasted words, which made people listen to him.
"Well, it seems I'm outvoted." Quips Shepard. "Lead the way."
Well, first off sorry for the long wait. Second, no answering reviews in this chapter. Third, all previous chapters have been rewritten. Fourth, if you like what you read here and want to see more of my work, two new stories just went live, enjoy. Finally, reviews are always welcome, along with criticism.