Over on the far side of the country...

Los Angeles, United States of America

14:42 GMT-7 (21:42 GMT July 21st)

Time To Detonation: 18 minutes

Team L.A. & Team S.D.

Paradox had been both reasonable and persuasive.

However, as the elevator doors opened onto the sixty-second floor of the Aon Center, some eight-hundred and fifty feet above Los Angeles, only three moved to leave the elevator. Unfortunately, Bell-end and Trollop had both died of their injuries during the ascent and the elevator floor was awash with blood and some other equally unpalatable bodily fluids. Lilim was still, at least in Paradox's view, in an unstable mood but the fiery girl was refusing to backdown from her mission of vengeance in the name of Riptide.

The sixty-second floor was, to give it its proper title, a mechanical floor – one of six scattered throughout the sixty-two storey skyscraper. The floor housed heavy machinery related to but not limited to air conditioning, ventilation, electrical provision, and firefighting. Three enormous air conditioning units with giant exhaust fans almost a dozen feet across were lined up along the eastern side along with a pair of air circulation processors with their own eight foot exhaust fans along the same side. The eastern and northern ends of the eighteen foot tall space were partially open to the elements and daylight streamed through to mix with the yellowing fluorescent lighting in the decidedly utilitarian space which was faced with concrete underfoot, on the walls, and on the ceiling above their heads. They had entered towards the northern end and faced the air circulation processors as well as a set of steel steps which led to the roof above. It was impossible to talk and be heard as the sound level was ear-numbing. However, their masks protected them somewhat from the intense sound and allowed them to communicate on a partial level.

Paradox saw nothing good about the layout before him and it was to his mind a strategic nightmare.

..._...

Typically, Lilim tried to push past Paradox, but the youth had had enough with the girl's behaviour and with a strong arm, he grabbed Lilim by the upper left arm and swung her hard against the elevator shaft, easily lifting the girl off her feet.

"Do you want to die?"

Lilim struggled against the iron grip, angry that Paradox had dared to restrain her.

"Let me go!"

"Not until you grow the fuck up and stop putting yourself and everybody else at risk," Paradox responded evenly.

"Let – me – go!" she hissed.

"You don't scare me, half pint, but if you persist...," Paradox responded before he went for the jugular. "Is this the right way to honour Riptide? Would he want you to die? I knew him and I know he would want you to live."

Lilim went limp and her shoulders sagged.

"That was low," Lilim growled.

"You gave me no choice."

"I'll behave."

Paradox sighed as he released the girl, knowing she would not.

..._...

None of them could hear the enemy over the roar of the industrial units but that did not mean that they were not there.

The space was lit reasonably well and that was the problem. Paradox's trained eyes followed the steel electrical trunking which ran from light to light and thence to a cabinet bolted to the floor just twenty yards distant. It was time for subterfuge. With casual movements, Paradox produced a cylindrical device from which he removed a cotter pin, allowed the safety to spin into the air, then he went down on one knee and rolled the device towards said electrical cabinet. At least a dozen pairs of eyes watched the device roll across the concrete floor, unobstructed. One pair of eyes went wide as the grenade rolled in their direction, closer and closer. Then the cylinder touched the concrete base of the electrical cabinet without detonating. A hand darted out from behind the cabinet, attached to an arm...

There was a devastatingly rapturous explosion and the arm vanished (presumably with the hand) and the cabinet formed from thin steel was shredded by the razor sharp shards of shrapnel blasted out by the high explosive core of the grenade. Just before the lights went out as the circuit breakers were shredded, a screaming man lurched out from behind the cabinet – his cover – grasping at his non-existent arm (and presumably the non-existent hand) as he bled out. Paradox darted out from cover, putting a .40-calibre slug into the injured man's skull to put the poor bastard out of his misery – and because the screaming was a distraction. In the semi-darkness of the mechanical floor, Paradox blended into the shadows. As he moved, he holstered his Browning and drew his heavily customised Oneida Eagle Phoenix Bow. His senses were ignoring sound, relying on sight and movement, as well as intelligence. There were many places to hide but not all that many places to lie in ambush and Paradox had figured most of them out.

Paradox was not alone as Domitor moved swiftly, a dozen feet away on a parallel course, his twin machete blades raised and ready. The American youth enjoyed working with the British youth and both were well matched as a team. However, there was a fly in the ointment which threatened to disrupt their carefully choreographed attack. Lilim was that fly and she was determined to make the remaining defenders suffer. The girl ran past Paradox despite a sharp rebuke over the radio, and Paradox was forced to protect the girl from immediate harm as several weapons moved in her direction. His first arrow was loosed with exquisite timing and aim resulting in the potential shooter having his brain pierced before he could squeeze his trigger. Paradox swiftly drew a second arrow and fired it at another gunman but not in time to prevent a bullet being fired before the gunman fell to the ground, the arrow having torn his heart apart as it passed through his torso.

Lilim had no time for situational awareness as she leapt into the air, a bullet narrowly missing her as she slashed out with a pair of sixteen-inch ko-katana blades. The tip of one blade ripped open the carotid artery of one defender sending hot blood then she plunged her other blade deep into the chest cavity of the next man. But then things began to get unstuck as the impaled man fell to the ground, taking the blade, conveniently wedged in his ribs, with him. Lilim's inexperience meant that she held onto said blade and as a result, she found herself dragged to the ground. Lilim released her blade as she hit the concrete and rolled into the concrete base of another industrial fixture. She screamed out with the pain of the impact but then scrambled to bring her single blade to action as a boot kicked her in the right shoulder and then a rifle butt struck her in the stomach, winding her as she curled up into a ball as the beating continued.

Domitor waded in to rescue Lilim who could be heard screaming from within the mass of attackers. For Domitor and Paradox it was a disaster as their coordinated attack had come apart due to Lilim's inability to follow the plan and as a direct result, she was in danger of being killed while her comrades-in-arms were forced to deviate from their attack to rescue her. Domitor's combat machetes dug deep into the melee, severing a limb or three even as the arrows of Paradox picked off men and women, wounding some but killing others outright. Then Paradox was with Domitor in amidst the throng, his bow being used as a clubbing weapon and as a block device when blades were swung in his direction. Domitor then broke off from the melee as he noticed five men hovering about twenty yards away and he figured that they had to be guarding the device which they were seeking. As a result, several of the enemy broke off from attacking Lilim to defend the device which could just be made out tucked away beneath one of the giant exhaust fans.

Lilim could feel the pain subsiding. 'Did that mean she was dying?' her overactive mind asked itself. But then she began to see some daylight as the thugs beating her seemed to fall away. Then a head came into view as a body crashed down beside her; the eyes were staring directly at her but they were sightless as the shaft of an arrow embedded deep into the corpses' forehead confirmed. The sight shook her up for a moment and when Domitor finally pulled the girl to her feet, Lilim almost collapsed with the exertion.

"Get with it, Lilim!" Domitor yelled. "You...!"

The youth was cut off as he was struck by several bullets in his back, some of which struck Lilim, and both dropped to the ground with Domitor falling into unconsciousness. Paradox was now alone facing just seven defenders but before he could drop more than two with his arrows, a door crashed open beyond the weapon and several people emerged and then several more – Panther Brigade.

It was hopeless.

Back East...

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

17:42 GMT-4 (21:42 GMT July 21st)

Time To Detonation: 18 minutes

Team Bourne

For the enemy, it was hopeless, but getting to that point had been costly.

The normally serene nature of the Park surrounding the magnificent Jefferson Memorial was like something out of an over-the-top Hollywood disaster movie. The dead were strewn across the preciously immaculate lawns and the drains ran with blood. The Metropolitan Police officers on the scene had been reinforced by Virginia State Police troopers and had created a secure perimeter surrounding the memorial. That had allowed ambulances and paramedics to flood the area to treat friend and foe alike. The Secret Service had also thrown their badges into the ring under direct instruction from POTUS (President of The United States of America). That intervention had assisted in Team Bourne not being taken into custody on multiple counts of murder and disturbing the peace. Instead, the four were just thirty feet from an ominous green plastic crate which was guarded by eleven zealots determined to guard the device until the very end.

Beyond the marble steps, the circular open-air structure consisted of a shallow dome supported by some fifty-four marble columns. There were four entrance points into the main chamber, each occupied by four columns arranged in two pairs. Outside of them, the twenty six columns which supported the majority of the dome from seven o'clock to five o'clock, were marked by Virginia State troopers and Metropolitan Police officers who had secured the monument to prevent any escape for those within.

At that moment, the four members of Team Bourne were spread out, each behind a column under the portico. Each forty-three foot tall column was some five feet three inches in diameter making them ideal to hide behind. The device in question sat at the copper feet of the statue which took up the very centre of the monument's interior. A plan had formed and had been discussed with the other authorities on the ground. Spectre was very aware that the proverbial clock was ticking down; figuratively and literally. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he adjusted his gas mask and readied his SIG Sauer MPX carbine for action. A few feet away, Wraith did the same, similarly matched by Siren and Snake Eyes, except that the fifteen-year-old Siren and thirteen-year-old Snake Eyes each had their backs to their respective pillars and wore gas masks just like their parents, only they each held a pair of Glock 19 Gen4 nine-millimetre pistols in their hands. The pistols were raised up, pointing at the sky and fitted with seventeen-round magazines, ready for the go signal.

The tension in the air was palpable and both youngsters knew what was at stake.

..._...

Then came the 'go signal' as four flash-bang grenades and six smoke grenades were tossed into the memorial by Virginia State troopers who then dived for cover.

The metal-clad grenades clattered loudly against the marble before each detonated, contributing to a seemingly never ending cacophony of sound and flashes of devastatingly bright light. Almost instantly, the two youngsters emerged from their cover each coming out from a different side of their respective pillars. Siren took the first shot as she saw movement, the bullet unerringly piercing a man's head even as the spent brass cartridge pinged off the side of the marble column beside her. Six yards away, her brother moved in parallel, his pistol spitting fire as bullet after bullet struck home with each step he made. The smoke was dissipating faster than expected but it still hung in the air allowing Team Bourne to close on the enemy all the while being watched from above by the copper likeness of the American Statesman, Founding Father, and Third President of the United States.

They were also on public view – to an extent – and they had a lot to prove as they took down the enemy. For Siren, she wanted to look the best, be the best, and come out better than her brother – roughly in that order. While she had always had an ego, performing her skills in full public view felt awesome and her ego loved it. Despite her tender age, she had proved herself on many occasions and she was not about to lapse for one single moment. Every movement was planned, every step purposeful, each squeeze of the trigger exacting. Each time a head appeared, a double-tap ensured that the head vanished from sight even as another appeared, an assault rifle muzzle spitting fire. Only, Siren was not about to allow herself to be targeted as she ducked and rolled to dodge each burst of bullets which exhausted themselves upon the marble pillars behind her.

Snake Eyes had his own ego but one which the boy did his best to bury deep, leaving his sister to have hers (as he saw it) on almost constant display. The boy had the very same skills and he knew how to kill as he was demonstrating most ably. His pistol moved purposefully as it lined up on a target and triggered death before he moved onto the next and the next. Ultimately, it did not take long for the sound of gunfire to cease reverberating around the marble structure. The muzzle of his pistol smoked as his eyes moved from bloody puddle to bloody puddle, the muzzle following his sight. Then came shouted words from each member of the family as they checked out every possible hiding place within the massive structure.

"Clear!" Spectre called out.

"Clear!" Wraith responded from a few yards over.

"Clear!" Siren confirmed as she ejected her magazine and inserted a fresh one into the butt of her pistol.

"Clear!" Snake Eyes finished off as he examined a sticky red substance dripping off the wall beside an engraved inscription.

Spectre and Wraith cautiously approached the ominous device located at the feet of Thomas Jefferson.

A few thousand miles to the east...

Waterloo Station
London, England

22:00 GMT+1 (21:00 GMT July 21st)

Time To Detonation: 60 minutes

Team Victor Bravo, Team Foxtrot Two, Team Hotel One
Charlie Tango Zero-Eight/One-Zero/One-Two

The station had endured almost two hours of organised panic as the general public had been guided towards the exits and into a tight police cordon around the station.

It made no difference how far the crowds were evacuated as they could never move far enough away to escape the blast radius of the nuclear weapon deep below them. The only benefit was to leave the station clear for Vengeance, Fusion, and their support teams to fight their way to the atomic device. The battle had been joined almost immediately in the passageway leading off the main concourse towards the underground colonnade ticket hall. It had been immediately obvious that every foot would have to be fought for in blood, and they still had no idea where the device was actually located in the rabbit warren of tunnels below them. The first obstacle had been the somewhat lengthy colonnade ticket hall which was lined with ticket machines and ticket offices and led, via nine automatic ticket gates, to the escalators which descended to a sub-level where two further sets of escalators descended to the Jubilee Line Platforms Five & Six. There was a also a lengthy travelator (moving walkway) which ran just over 460-feet to the Bakerloo Line.

The defenders had automatic weapons – primarily M4 carbines and their derivatives – as well as pistols and other military-sourced weaponry. That made the obstacles dangerous to overcome – that was the bad news – but it also meant that the proverbial gloves were off and unlimited force could be used to put down the defenders. That pleased the more violently-minded members of the attack teams as it meant that they could put everything they had into the attack without holding back like they normally might. Indeed, the initial escalators which carried underground travellers downwards and overground travellers upwards had been cleared by the use of flashbang grenades and automatic gunfire killing three defenders and spilling the first blood of the evening. The ticket hall was a different issue due to the narrow width but long length of the battle zone.

Being some twenty feet in height, sixty feet wide and a good 330-feet long, the battle zone was a tactical nightmare.

..._...

Crimson led Arbiter down the left-hand stopped escalator, easing past the shattered ceiling tiles and dangling light fittings – some of which sparked from the grenade damage.

She stepped over a body – blood oozing from the corpse's ears as a result of the concussion of the grenades in such a confined space. On the right-hand escalator, Intrepid and Aegea bypassed another body and then a third before they reached the bottom and scanned around with their weapons held at shoulder height ready for firing. Ahead of them, more damaged light fittings hung down and there were many bags and groups of personal effects abandoned by the escaping travellers. There they were met by the three sixteen-man teams of Charlie Tango Zero-Eight, One-Zero, and One-Two who had successfully engaged and neutralised the 'workmen' who had closed off the external access into the ticket hall from the south. The large space was somewhat eerie considering its apparent emptiness as no overhead or wall lights were on in the main ticket hall. They were joined by Shadow with Rogue, Scamp, and Nox as they moved forwards into the dark ticket hall which had limited illumination from various ticket machines and other automated devices as well as the limited natural light which streamed in from the windows. The eerie glow from emergency lighting added to the disconcerting atmosphere as they entered the ticket hall proper.

Then gunfire erupted from beyond the automatic ticket barriers arranged halfway down the space.

..._...

Everyone dived to the ground as bullets struck concrete pillars, shattered ticket machines, and generally caused havoc.

Return fire began immediately, as short bursts were sent downrange while small groups moved forward under covering fire, alternating as they went using columns and abandoned suitcases as cover. Almost immediately, there were casualties as two CTSFO fell dead and two more were wounded. But they were not alone as Arbiter received a bullet to her left shoulder which caused shock damage to the joint but did not penetrate her body armour. The girl insisted on continuing despite the limited use of her left arm and despite medical advice radioed from Doctrina in Reserve One. Intrepid escalated the situation as she rose to one knee behind a concrete column and raised a Heckler & Koch HK169 40-mm grenade launcher to her right shoulder. She fired off a low-velocity high-explosive round followed up by another and then a third. The three grenades arced some fifty feet before they came down close to the defenders and the far end of the ticket hall. Three impressive detonations rang out as the grinning Intrepid remained under cover, enjoying the thought of what injuries her devices had wrought amongst the enemy.

The bloodthirsty girl was not to be disappointed as the sound gradually faded and the smoke was sucked out via the shattered glazing. There was groaning and their were intermittent screams and calls for a medic. As a team, everyone moved forwards, edging towards the ticket barrier and using the pockmarked units as cover. Intrepid was not the only one enjoying the thought of the enemy suffering. There were paramedics, civilian and military, ready to move in once an area had been secured – as well as the Metropolitan Police ready to follow up to arrest those still living. For Aegea, it was a further baptism of fire. Fear still raged but the girl had learnt how to control and channel that and other emotions into her attack making her appear fearless to her opponents. Despite her disability, the girl had advantages over her friends with a full compliment of lower limbs. Her blades gave her an undeniable advantage at speed and for combat as nobody expected to be struck by such devices. Aegea and Intrepid moved forwards together but despite Intrepid's long legs, Aegea had the edge as her blades 'sprang' her at the enemy with surprising ease and pace.

As Intrepid vaulted the ticket barrier, Aegea cleared the same structure with consummate ease. Aegea struck the nearest defender in the face with her left blade as she landed, leaving a nasty gash in the flesh. The girl landed heavily and rolled, coming back up behind the first line of defenders, her swords held ready and the eyes of her mask burning an angry and off-putting red. Beside her, Intrepid was doing the very same, her own wakizashi blades deployed and ready to wreak havoc.

And havoc they wrought.

..._...

Arbiter grimaced as she dodged a severed arm (courtesy of Intrepid) which flew through the air, blood trailing behind.

The defenders were understandably disorganised thanks to the havoc wrought by Intrepid and her grenades. The swift onslaught from melee-armed vigilantes was a blow to what was left of their morale. The trio of female vigilantes pressed on, supporting one another as they pushed the enemy back. Crimson was not far behind as she kept a wary eye on her team and the overall tactical situation, waving in the other teams in support. Her experienced eyes recognised the enemy reforming at the escalators which descended down into the underground to create a new battleline. It was at the top of this set of escalators that obstacles had been laid with several yellow and black-striped 'DANGER KEEP CLEAR' signs being used strategically as bullet-proof shields and obviously lined with Kevlar – that fact was identified as Crimson put a trio of bullets into the closest 'sign' without doing much more than shoving the sign backwards a few inches. Therefore, Shadow and Team Foxtrot Two moved forward, bypassing Team Victor Bravo who were busy slicing and dicing and using their activities as cover for the two youngest members to outflank the dozen or so fighters gathered around the head of the escalators.

Rogue and Scamp were ideal for the task.

..._...

The two nine year old girls were of small stature and almost invisible as they moved through the swirling smoke, moving from corpse to corpse using the dead men and women for cover.

Indeed, Scamp enjoyed being close to death and she found the stench of death strangely intoxicating to the point that it heightened her senses and flooded her system with adrenalin. She moved adroitly, her Walther P22 Nickel held ahead of her, searching for a target. While Rogue detested everything which her colleague found intoxicating, she found being in danger to be exhilarating and she felt a purpose to her being as she crouched beside a man who was not yet a corpse despite the blood flowing freely from an open wound in his abdomen. The man's eyes studied the sparkling blue eyes which his tortured mind found to be mesmerising as his brain starved of oxygen. Rogue clutched in her young gauntleted hands a Walther P22 Black pistol which began to spit fire as she moved past the soon-to-be-corpse and found a large calibre weapon moving in her direction. The woman dies instantly as two bullets tore through her brain having left barely a mark on her face before shattering the back of her head and sending her ponytail flying through the air attached to a section of bloody skull. Then the pair were amongst the enemy and the pistols were holstered as each girl drew a pair of beautiful but deadly butterfly swords from their backs.

Admittedly, the sight of two youngsters not much over four feet in height would seem not to be much of a threat and a couple of the defenders smirked and chuckled. But none of the men and women were stupid and they knew that they were fighting Vengeance and Fusion as well as the Metropolitan Police. Despite their stature, the allegiance of each girl was obvious by the identical symbol they each bore on their armoured chests. That made them Fusion and a danger to anyone they came across and it could be rightly assumed that each girl knew how to use the weapons held in their gauntlets. Indeed, one girl had coldly shot a women dead just seconds before she had emerged from the smoke. Whatever, the two girls had to go. The first to step towards the two not-so-innocent girls was a woman wearing typical workers clothing although on closer inspection the clothing appeared more military than civilian especially as the essential high-visibility vest had been discarded.

"We can take them," the woman hissed as she drew a good-sized combat knife and was joined by another woman of similar stature who held an identical blade in her right hand.

"In your dreams, motherfucker!" Scamp hissed back as she and Rogue took up a back to back position, turning to keep the two woman in sight as they moved closer in.

All around them a major gunfight was underway but for two girls and two women it was like there was nobody else for miles. Each time a combat knife reached in towards one of the girls, a butterfly knife reached back to counter the blow and steel clashed against steel. However, the minor stalemate ensured that Rogue became bored very quickly and that meant she went on the offensive, pressing her attack and driving in with one blade while deflecting the inbound combat knife with the other. The youngster's reach was not far but the length of her lethal blades helped immensely to even the odds. Indeed, she very quickly drew blood on the stomach of the surprised adult woman. Rogue did not hold back as she followed through with a block and thrust to then drive her right blade upwards into the woman's abdomen. With a twist of her wrist, death was certain but not quick. Rogue felt no need to be merciful as she withdrew her blade and kicked the combat knife across the floor and sidestepped the falling woman who gripped her abdomen tightly, struggling in vain to staunch the steady flow of hot red blood which ran through her fingers. Rogue turned towards Scamp in time to see her friend on her knees, slashing horizontally with both blades and taking her attacker's left leg off below the knee and then driving both blades into the chest cavity of her opponent as she fell to the floor.

"Who's next?" Rogue demanded as Scamp joined her, both girls exhibiting their blades, dripping with freshly drawn blood.

The distraction was perfect as Shadow and Nox waded in with bō-staffs adding to the bloody mess which flowed into the escalator mechanisms and caused both to grind to a halt and short out.

SCOURGE

Rampart and Obsidian were attempting to keep track of what was happening beneath them but it was difficult, although it was obvious that several major firefights were underway across the Greater London area.

It was also getting rather busy around central London as police helicopters buzzed around the area monitoring events on the ground as well as doing their utmost to push back inquisitive news helicopters. Indeed, the helicopter's TCAS II proximity warning and anti-collision system was constantly squawking: 'TRAFFIC! TRAFFIC!' which was getting on Rampart's nerves no end as she continuously had to manoeuvre. That only got worse as the fading daylight made the congested airspace simply dangerous.

"The next fucking newsie helicopter that comes close," Rampart growled to Obsidian as she dove to avoid yet another over inquisitive 'newsie', "shoot it the fuck down!"

Obsidian would do no such thing, but it was damned tempting, so she simply went back to sending out advisories over the radio while aiming their searchlight directly into the cockpit of the interloper.

"Golf Sierra Kilo Yankee November, you are interfering in a military operation and you may be fired upon without warning or suffer collateral damage."

The helicopter in question would relocate but return within minutes,

Four miles to the east...

One Canada Square,
Canary Wharf, City of London

Team Victor Echo, Team Foxtrot Three
Charlie Tango Zero-Five/Zero-Nine

Team Foxtrot Three

The 31st floor offered an amazing view across the docklands and indeed into London itself.

However, all attention was inwards as the five members of Fusion fought their way across the 27,585 square feet of open-plan office space. At first, they had emerged onto the floor to the sounds of screams from the females and cautionary comments from the males. Strangely – to the five members of Fusion, at least – there was no sign of an enemy. No guns. No sign of anything more lethal than a stapler nor a threat worse than a paper cut.

"Are we in the right place?" Wildcat enquired, voicing her thoughts and those of her colleagues and those of the hundred or so office workers sitting at their desks.

"Hi," Trojan commented as he looked down at a particularly nice looking blonde secretary. "My name is Trojan; what's yours?"

"Megan."

"Lovely name," Trojan grinned from behind his mask before he felt a cold chill run down his backbone as he heard a guttural growling sound from his left where Wildcat stood - seething.

Wolf, though, was not distracted by the admittedly tasty eye candy in visual sight. His experienced eyes – and those of Piranha – searched for what was wrong with the scene unfolding around them. HE found many eyes watching them curiously, examining the weapons they carried and which were aimed across the many desks, tables, chairs, filing cabinets, and water coolers. The central core of the building was formed from two steel-reinforced concrete sections which housed the sixteen personnel lift shafts, eight of which served that floor, four sets of fire stairs, four toilets – two male and two female, three goods elevators and two small firefighter elevators. A corridor ran between the cores, west to east. Arrayed around the central cores. Open plan and desks occupied the north, east, and west sides of the floor leaving the south occupied by part open plan, some large meeting rooms and the main reception area for the floor.

Together, the pair moved down the south side of the central core, moving through a doorway and then as Wolf covered, Piranha pushed open a door which appeared to lead to a small pantry which was empty. The next door was locked – a swift kick identified a store room for stationery which was occupied by the obligatory couple kissing and making out, neither of whom seemed to notice the door being kicked in by a masked vigilante armed with an assault rifle nor the same masked vigilante leaving and pulling the door closed behind him. Further along, the receptionist, sitting behind a high-fronted desk struck Wolf as being far too calm considering the situation.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a flat tone.

"GUN!" Wildcat shouted from behind and to the left of the receptionist who was pulling a compact submachine-gun out from a shelf under the desk.

But before a bullet could be fired by the woman, Wildcat double-tapped her in the chest. The woman dropped down behind the desk, the submachine-gun clattering to the desktop. Wildcat ran forwards, Trojan covering her as she moved. Wildcat frisked the dead woman and produced a pistol and a combat knife, holding them up for all to see.

"Stand to!" Wolf announced as he turned around, his assault rifle raised and ready to fire. "Enemy in sight!"

The gunshots had been muted thanks to the suppressors each assault rifle was equipped with but the sound was still unmistakeable as it rang out and the innocent office workers... Well, as it turned out, they were not all innocent office workers.

"This is bad," Wildcat commented dryly as some thirty to forty 'office workers' stood up from their desks and raised a decidedly interesting array of assault rifles, submachine-guns, and pistols which intrigued Wildcat for just a moment before she dropped to the floor.

"I think you might have a point there," Wolf commented as he landed beside Wildcat as bullets flew overhead. "Contact! Contact! Contact!"

"What next?" Piranha called out as she huddled under a desk with Trojan.

"Where's Foxy?" Trojan asked.

That was a good question, Wolf and Piranha thought.

..._...

Foxtail had worked her way around the floor and was in the central core.

Her instincts had drawn her to the core and after passing through a breakout area with several vending machines, she paused at the doors which led to the south core goods elevators. The doors were ajar and the distinctive metallic sounds of weapons being prepared could be heard on the other side. But before she could radio a warning to the other members of her team, she heard a warning from Wolf.

"Stand to! Enemy in sight!"

That phrase was followed less than a minute later by gunfire – the sound of which was muted by her location – and confirmation of "Contact! Contact! Contact!"

Bracing her SIG MPX assault rifle into her right shoulder, Foxtail yanked open the left hand of the double doors, revealing a semi-surprised group of armed mercenaries dressed for battle. The muzzle of her assault rifle spat fire as she turned the goods elevator vestibule into a killing zone, dropping five before bullets began to head in her direction. Foxtail barely saw the movement from her left as four defenders appeared from an opening further down the corridor. She turned and sent several bursts in their direction even as she moved backwards down the corridor, bullets striking her armour. However, the gunfire slowed as two of the enemy fell dead and the remaining pair dodged into the goods elevator vestibule to check on their surviving colleagues. That allowed the injured Foxtail to make her escape into the main office area to the west and allow her time to switch out her magazine.

Unbeknownst to Foxtail the enemy had been dealt a decisive blow which had decimated their key defensive personnel.

Team Victor Echo

Team Victor Echo had emerged from the basement of the tower.

The laptop belonging to the enemy had been seized and rushed into the custody of Abby by the Metropolitan Police for further investigations. That allowed Charlie Tango Zero-Five to make for the basement to mop up below and for Team Victor Echo and Charlie Tango Zero-Nine to head up the tower to assist Team Foxtrot Three. As such, they emerged from the lifts on the thirty-first floor, and they discovered a battle underway. Two dead bodies lay in the lift lobby, evidence of bullet wounds fairly obvious. The intensity of the gunfire indicated that the defenders were not yet done.

"Fusion, Vengeance and Charlie Tango inbound from the lifts," Styx radioed to prevent a blue-on-blue incident.

"We're exchanging bullets in the northeast corner," Wolf responded. "Come and join the fun!"

Kora grimaced as she followed Styx into the central core passageway where she saw more bodies and blood splattered upon the walls. It was a sight which she was trying to get used to but it was not easy. Her guardian did not pay the gruesome sight even a glance as she moved past, her weapon raised. Kora was also pushing down the urge for self preservation rather than moving towards the danger which was readily audible just a few yards away. As they emerged from the passageway, they found chaos. Desks were overturned and there were more bodies. Several of the thick wall-to-ceiling tinted glazing units were cracked and badly chipped and more blood was evident. Thunderstorm and Insidious ran past Kora, forming up on Styx as they moved to engage the enemy who were occupying the northern portion of the open plan office floor. The gunfire was intensive and the first thing Kora did was drop down behind a substantial looking wooden desk and she took careful aim with her weapon to ensure that any friendlies were not in her line of fire. Immediately to her left, she could see Wildcat and Trojan working as a team engaging and moving, engaging and moving. To her right, Piranha and Wolf were doing much the same but as a three person team with Foxtail.

Kora and Styx were a team and they moved to backup Wildcat and Trojan leaving Thunderstorm and Insidious to support the trio as the battle raged.

..._...

The close confines of the interior space amplified the gunfire unnerving Kora but having very little effect on the seasoned Predators and vigilantes.

Kora found a head in her sights and she squeezed the trigger of her assault rifle, and the head dropped from sight. Her mind pushed back the knowledge that she had just ended a life and she forced herself to move her weapon to find the next target. It had not been Kora's bullet which had taken down the head, it had been the accurate shooting of Insidious. He was a marksman by every definition and the enemy were learning fast and keeping their heads down. Despite it looking like they had the enemy contained, Wolf was not so sure and neither was Wildcat.

"I'm not buying this," Wildcat commented to Wolf as they met up while switching locations. "They're playing with us."

"I agree," Wolf responded, impressed by the young girl's strategic mind. "They've purposefully drawn us to this corner of the building, which means..."

"The device is in the opposite corner," Wildcat finished.

Wolf and Wildcat moved off to brief Charlie Tango Zero-Nine as they would be tasked with corralling the enemy in the northeast corner while Foxtrot Three and Victor Echo disengaged in a stealthy manner to then reengage the enemy in the southwest corner.