"Oh I don't know about that...like you said, nice things stick out here. That includes pretty girls, which, I may add, we have a abnormally high concentration of in this car."
The Brit grins. "Life is good. But Siberia still sucks."
"This'll be fun, but no, our saga begins well before the skank, when you and your new friend made a rather dramatic getaway from an apartment block. In truely heroic fashion I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane to try to pick up the trail, got to play house with a detachment of FSB agents for my trouble. Met up with the rest of the team when it was clear you were long gone, and made a mess across Sibera chasing after you. Helicopters, limos..."
He sighs somewhat whistfully at the last part and grins at Carla.
"Ilyanna...that's the name of the traitorous little bitch...was supposed to be our friendly local agent to help deal with the fact that none of us speak Russian. Which suggests to me that, considering we've been backstabbed in...what, Scotland, Italy and Russia, that the agency has some holes in it you could drive a truck through."
"Yeah, that sounds like you. As for holes, well, guess why we were blowing the joint. Russkie SWAT, and I didn't feel like discussing why they were after me."
"Ilyanna, eh? Pretty name for an ugly accident waiting to happen."
The elevator door opens with the expected hail of gunfire as Ayumi scales the roof's short parapet.
"THERE!" screams one of the guards, directing fire towards the elevator.
Bullets impact the table barrier with such frequency that its hard to discern how many shooters are currently peppering their only means of cover.
A couple of rounds go through, punching a hole in Moten's ribcage another sending splinters into Artis' off-hand.
Meanwhile, Ayumi sizes up the situation from behind an A/C unit.
-Two fireteams, five men each, heavily armed like the ones downstairs.
-One LMG and four rifles are behind makeshift sand-bagged bunker, currently turning the table/elevator into shredded wheat. The table won't last for long.
-The other fireteam is waiting on the helipad closely guarding the Principle in a tight circle.
-The Principle is a girl, approximately 8-10 yrs old. She's wearing a kevlar vest.
The helicopter is approaching fast, two side-gunners manning the LMGs.
Artis and Moten look up over their dwindling cover long just enough throw their grenades. As they duck back down a shot rips through Moten's throwing arm, spraying the elevator car with blood and bone fragments. The agent clutches on to his shattered arm, fighting back the temptation to pass out in lieu of the bigger picture.
[color=red:1e248d4fef]*BANG* *BOOM*[/color]
Both grenades go off, halting any further gunfire on their position. Ayumi moves in amidst the confusion, going to work on the guards.
The gunship lands, stirring up the smoke's effects with its prop wash. Artis and Moten see Ayumi moving about the implaced guards, spinning around their position with blades drawn and blood spattering.
They move into secondary firing spots, providing support for Ayumi and she hacks her way through the opposition. Artis sees Ayumi kneel down, simultaneously slicing through two of the guards' hamstrings. Moten puts a family of 5.56 rounds into another, taking him down with Ayumi resurfacing as her two dance partner fall to the ground.
Fireteam Two escorts the Principle over to the helicopter with two hauling the young girl aboard. From Artis' professional assessment, the chopper's turbines are revving for an immediate dust-off.
"Get to the chopper!" Artis yells, doing an impressive but unintended Schwartzenegger impersonation as he sprints for the Blackhawk, attempting to duck, weave, and tumble past the guards.
(spending Action Dice as appropriate to get me on that helo)
Artis runs for it with Moten providing cover fire. He rushes right into the fray with the starboard gunner and the remaining elements of Fireteam 2 opening up on him. Bullets pockmark the roof decking as Artis dashes for the helicopter. Dozens of rounds vipp in/around him but the wheelman valiantly pushes through the cannonade of autofire.
The helicopter takes off as Artis starts his boarding actions.
Down below, Ayumi's stabs one of the guards in the chest using her freshly plunged blade as a pivot, spinkicking the other in head while Moten fires at Fireteam 2. His rounds catch one in the vest as the rifle runs empty. Then return fire, missing horribly as Moten reloads.
On board, Artis takes the opportunity to rid himself of some competition. The back compartment momentarily breaks out into a fist-fight as Artis gives as good as he gets. Blows exchanged, Artis moves to end it and grabs onto one of the cargo bay's overhead handholds, monkeykicking both unstrapped guards out the other side.
Ayumi's plunged blade get caught in retraction, throwing her off-balance long enough for her two opponents to regroup and flank her. One swings wide as the other slams the butt of his rifle into Ayumi's arm, the blow definitely breaking something internal. She yelps in pain as her left arm goes limp below the elbow.
Her misery is punctuated by the sight of two guards plummeting downward towards the ground, their ultimate fates concealed by the building's ledge.
(OOC: The following was done via IM with ADS)
Taking out half the home team, Artis pulls out his tazer and goes to work on the gunners, who now have unstrapped themselves and are going for their sidearms.
(end IM)
[color=orange:555704459b]bzzz-rrrrt[/color]
One of the gunners is shocked with 120,000 Volts, collapsing to the cargobay floor as the other panic-fires his pistol with a round getting stopped by Artis' vest. Artis punches the guard repeatedly, taking another gunshot to arm before grabbing the guard and ratcheting him out the opposite side of the cargo bay. Effectively cleaning out his immediate space, Artis looks down at the girl. She's quietly huddling herself in a corner, looking more concerned than scared.
Back on the roof, the remnants of Fireteam 2 take up defensive positions amongst the exhaust vents dotting the area. Moten sees Jess' predicament, taking aim and gunning down one her two dance partners. Mired in pain and rage, Ayumi uses her last bit of strength and slashes the remaining guard with a violent fury. Her last slash is blocked by the guard as they both drop to their knees. He gets up her face.
"We stop this now. You no kill my men and I tell you everything..."
"Hey kid," Artis says to the girl, drool and blood spattering the deck under him. He jabs her with the taser, figuring she'd be the last person he'd expect to shoot him in the back, so she goes down first.
Artis puts the tazer in belt and picks up one of the tazed gunner's pistol, proceeding directly to the cockpit. The co-pilot looks about and sees Artis' AK in his face, the pistol in the pilot's. Without blinking, the co-pilot jerks the helicopter's flight stick backward. Artis pulls the trigger as he is abruptly thrown back and off his feet, the chopper pulling into a steep climb.
It levels off, allowing for the now bloody mess of a co-pilot to pull his sidearm, firing it back towards Artis, the shots ricocheting off-target.
Using the tazed girl as a human shield, Artis fires back with his pistol. The bullets punch through the chopper's fusilage, catching the pilot in the upper arm and spatters the windscreen with his blood.
Frantic deliberation occurs in the cockpit as the two flyboys size up the situation, occasionally looking back at Artis' human shield.
The co-pilot's head wheels around in open view of Artis' sights. He extends his arm and hand holding his sidearm, gently tossing it towards Artis and speaks.
(It's Russian and Artis don't truck that funny talk)
From what Artis can discern from the co-pilot's actions and body language, they're willing to deal.
Meanwhile...
Upon hearing the silence up on the roof, Peter brings the battered elevator downstairs and takes a ride up to see if everyone's just dead and he can go back to finishing the side missions in GTA: San Andreas.
Peter stumbles into the elevator, slightly miffled that the pills that work so well against the "16 hours of PDF-reading on an ergonomically suboptimal laptop screen" headaches don't do a whole lot of good against shrapnel stuck in your flesh. Pity, really. There ought to be a law to force those pharmatheutical conglomerates to provide a sort of "Ouch-B-Gone" rating on the package.
24 weeks alone, and I had a good operation. 24 hours with these guys, and it's all blown to hell - me included.
"Somebody tell me how to say 'Land the chopper' in Russian!"
*D-err--ing*
Artis' question is heard by everyone as the elevator gives a labored announcement of its arrival on the roof. Peter sees the stand-offs between Moten and two guards in the background and a rather bloody Ayumi/Opponent standing in an armed embrace in front of him.
CrazyIvan
