Kruger
Zombie Hunter
War cat dose not approve of your actions. 0.0
Posts: 270
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Post by Kruger on Apr 22, 2010 16:47:05 GMT -5
Lee then went down the dust ridden stairs as he followed behind the new woman that Pandora had told to lead them. He had put on his gas mask earlier while Pandora had the small standoff. He was thinking about what they would run into because he had overheard that there are infected personal in the area. He was somewhat shaken by this as he remembered his firing range encounter with the licker. What also got him concerned is that he knew every little of the mission at hand. The only thing that he actually knew was that they had to secure a man named Sharne and then get out. He then made it down the stairs and into the kitchen. He then saw the woman walking quietly over to the other stair case. He griped his Sig 556 even more tightly in anticipation as he saw her getting closer to the stairs. Then he heard a clicking noise of a gun cocking and the thud of skin coming in contact of a hard surface. He looked as he then heard a shot and the dead limp body of an insurgent fell out to the bottom of the the stairs. He stepped over the blood puddle as he made his way toward the back way of the kitchen. He checked all the aisles along the way to the back as he got to the counter he looked over and gave the all clear signal. He put his hand on the handle to the door that lead outside as he did he also moved up against the wall. With one hand on the door handle and the other on his sig 556, he turned his head toward the others waiting for a signal to go ahead and open the door.
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Post by hades on Apr 22, 2010 17:48:56 GMT -5
Dean followed Lee and the new team member, slinging his machine gun as he did due to the tight confines of the inside of the building. He unleathered his 93-r, extending the stock on it and flipping the fire selector switch to 3 round burst. He held it in the two handed style grip, his forward hand holding the small drop down peice on the front of the gun to make it less likely that the recoil would cause problems if he had to fire quickly. He nodded to Lee, and flattened up to the wall on the opposite side of the door, gun aimed to allow him a quick and simple scan of the room once it was opened.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 23, 2010 6:25:04 GMT -5
Zips and buckles rustled from the kitchen, procuring a side pack from the dead insurgent to help carry three additional concussion grenades. Pandora held her arms out slightly and hopped on the spot twice feeling the added weight before tightening the belt; it seemed like it could get in the way, only because it was the single bulkiest item on her in person. Even her holster was tailored to not interfere.
Slapping the lid of the MK3A2 grenade case shut, Pandora stepped out of the kitchen taking the liberty of dragging the dead insurgent out of the archway and parallel with corridor; it was becoming an OH and S hazard. Outside on the open road a convoy of vehicles had started moving from North to South, in what seemed primarily the direction of the warehouse Harold spoke of. Pan approached a window, watching each vehicle; most of them were utility vehicles with bed canopies, probably reinforcements; it was impossible to see into the back of one with the tarp pulled down. There was about a ten second gap between each Ute; bringing up the very rear was a half track, civilian in model but covered in metal, supported on top was a machine gun hidden behind its own armor casing; all Pan could see was the barrel, "Ground to Eagle. Keep watch on those vehicles; let me know where they're going. Over," it seemed fairly logical that they were there for Sharne, but Pandora was more worried about how they might pose as an obstacle for the team upon reaching the warehouse district.
Due to the rumbling of the convoy it was probable it'd drag along any infected close enough to take interest, high pitched moans echoed out of the residential block plus heavy growls modded with the Doppler effect as a couple of infected personnel scrambled past Pandora's hiding position as quickly as possible; she'd taken several steps back considering how her location could be exposed. The blockade would keep anything out, so long as they didn't know she was there. Worry passed over her head as to how much time they could have left after watching every man and his infected dog homing in on one single location, "I'm moving on ahead," whether it was her preference of going it alone or her actual concern for the mission she wasn't too sure on, "Activity increased, threat heading southward bound," Pandora backed out of the entrance room carefully making sure not to get the attention of any blood shot eyes through the window; once through the doorway she turned and jogged quickly down the corridor.
One window occupied the outer wall halfway up the staircase; it had already been tagged as the means of exit once the team had regrouped, hopefully Savannah would gather that Pandora had used it rather than crawled out the blockage. The path outside was a narrow and curved walkway between two buildings, everything in this area now looking to be made more of brick and clay. Pan had dropped down quietly, spotting a carrier further up the path; she wouldn't have much room to maneuver if she got its attention so silence was the key. Being evasive also seemed reasonable, but a matter pecked Pandora in the back of the head. She held her Matador up and hissed.
Without any registration what so ever the carrier turned and bolted in Pan's direction, it had already gathered enough momentum so that after she'd shot it in the head its body dragged itself the last couple of metres to her feet after dropping to the ground. It sure as hell wasn't the reaction she had been expecting; glad that she had tested the carrier out. Granted time was of the essence there was still more that held Pan's curiosity; dwelling on a second and deciding that it was for the good towards knowing what kind of infected they were up against. The Velvet girl holstered her sidearm and unsheathed her Mirage.
Getting through the old clothes was a piece of cake, the sharp-as-hell blade slicing through it like thin air, "Huh,"
Subjects skin colour hasn't changed in pigmentation; no signs of pale tissue.
It seemed obvious why this was the case, but verification was in order.
Infected wound...
Pandora lifted up cloth and turned the carrier’s head side to side looking for the spot it had come in contact with another infected person. There was none readily evident; she flipped the individual over entirely and pulled his shirt back spotting twelve small holes all made into his lower back, similar to that of what would be left from a pin, and they were in a circular pattern too.
Subject was injected with the virus purposefully; likely one of the initial carriers.
Flipping the carrier back over, Pandora lifted up his top lip.
Blood residue on teeth. Definitely passed the infection across to another individual. No external mess, victim must have escaped with only the bite.
Looking further down to the carrier’s lower torso and legs.
Further examination; single bullet wound just above patella, narrowly missing femur. Extensive blood loss and clotting...
Bits and pieces began to fall together, Pandora went ahead to conclude her theory bringing the Mirage to the carriers chest and stabbing it in while pulling down his stomach. She made another two horizontal incisions to make things easier when pulling the skin away.
Level of necrosis decreased in particular organs; enough to improve carrier’s performance. Separate organs have decayed entirely.
The behavior of searching for a feast remained, there was just more behind the horsepower of each carrier. It wouldn't make a difference shooting them anywhere other than the head still, but the drop in decay meant the infected would hang around the early carrier mark a little longer than a typical T-virus infected carrier would. Pan cleaned her blade on the dirty cloth of what remained of the carriers clothes before sheathing it, satisfied.
In the distance hard crackling was heard, a guess made that it was the heavy machine gun Pandora had seen earlier on the half track. Now hearing the weapon fired she was able to place the name as an HK MG4, more firepower at their disposal. It sounded like they had found something to shoot it at; but from how sporadic it behaved the guess rested on the targets being carriers.
More scrambling, feet dragging on dirt. Pandora jumped up directly pushing out her hands and feet and shimmying up the walls of each building until she could grab onto the rickety wood rail of the balcony to her right hand side. Peeking over the edge showed two carriers moving down the same path on a one track mind and nearly tripping over the inspected zombie from before.
Looking back up at the roofs in front of her; there was plenty of easy movement from rooftop to rooftop. A calculated jump got Pan to another balcony passing over the top of a second narrow pathway. Entrances leading inside buildings were either unmeasured wooden doors or just left wide open all together via a rammed earth arch, movement made easy. Passing through buildings was a simple case of reaction rather than caution, there was no need to check a door before going through it; everything was just open. Layout was predictable as well, with her sense of direction Pan made it across the openings at the opposite end of the building to cross over to the next. No residents seemed to still be around; everything was at the ground floor which she passed directly over the top of.
Inevitably Pandora found herself forced to go up onto the very rooftops though, a beige wall facing her from the window she half sat in. The old Mexican architecture had the roof supports, wooden logs, exposed on the outside of the top of the roof; a perfect grapple point. Pan leapt and grabbed hold, hoisting herself up.
Her black battle suit stood out particularly well on the light brown roof, she flattened herself against it and crawled prone towards the other side. Pan hadn't heard the shot of a sniper rifle among everything yet leading her to the conclusion that it was standard and in use, so long as none of the insurgents toted the same firearm as Spencer she'd be alright. If not, then she'd have to hope the sharp shooter would miss; she wouldn't hear the sound of the rifle discharge before the bullet reached her.
A smell of flora reached Pandora's nose, spots of green situated on the roof slightly ahead of her. Creepers all intertwined to wire mesh which seemed to be cover the entire ceiling and balcony area of the corner of the building. Chancing a glance over it showed a small square out in front of the building; occupied too. Pandora cut a hole in the roof of the mesh with her knife and pulled herself through.
She was surrounded by plants; the sweet smell of flowers and acrid stench of mulch and compost invading. The hanging garden was reasonably well kept; however the lack of water for some plants in the past week or so was showing through; but the rest strived in the environment and some were probably even learning to adapt. Regardless, the smell and camouflage would help cover Pan entirely from carriers and insurgents. She checked the only door in from the hanging garden leading to a small home darkened by a lack of windows; no habitants were visible from the brief observation. Keeping on the safe side Pan carefully dragged a table of pot plants over to the door to barricade it.
One of the trucks from earlier were evident in the square, there was a single road leading in with barely enough room for it to fit without the ability to open doors. Half a dozen or more insurgents looked to be searching houses; brief reports going off now and then indicating a carrier likely being shot, or a civilian for that matter. The gangs would be heading any measure possible to eradicate the infection. With the amount of hostiles in the area though it would make crossing the square difficult without taking a massive detour, "Distraction," Pandora mumbled.
She lay down on the floor of the hanging garden and observed through the heavy growth around the wire mesh and balcony rail and support, the AK laying beside her. Pan drew her Matador and switched the laser sight on pointing it at the truck, or rather the fuel tank of it; the old model helped keep that part exposed. She had other intentions instead of shooting it herself though, "Captain," she whispered, "Pandora here. Can you see the truck close to my position? Small town square south west of the drop point with about 6 or more hostiles occupying it. Find the fuel tank I'm point my laser sight at and fire," she paused while seeing a pair of insurgents enter a building to the left of her spot, possibly connected to the home of the hanging garden; there was only a matter of time before she was found, "May need some support while moving across the square afterwards,"
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Post by .Merios on Apr 23, 2010 11:04:44 GMT -5
Spencer pulled away from his eye piece and sat back a bit, still covered in his suit. His right arm moved to his pack (which was a few feet to the right of the window sill) and opened it up, pulling out a small chrome-colored packet and a black netbook. He ripped the top off of the pack and poured out it's contents on his lap- a packet of crackers, a sleeve of peanut butter, a packet of mixed fruit and a packet of assorted vegetables. He was traveling light, which meant no actual meals. He opened the packet of crackers and peeled open the peanut butter. He squeezed a dab of peanut butter onto a cracker and slid another cracker on top of the bottom, creating a makeshift sandwich. He slid everything to the side and moved his netbook towards him, opening it up with his right hand while popping the crackers into his mouth.
His finger slid across the touch pad, moving the cursor on screen to bring up a holographic map- it wasn't 3D, but it was enough to know where his team was at via GPS meters in their headsets. He leaned forward to put his eye back on his eyepiece just to catch the vision of Pandora performing an field autopsy on a corpse. He pulled away to make another peanut butter-cracker sandwich and just as he was placing the other cracker on top, a faint voice came in over his ear piece.
<Captain, Pandora here. Can you see the truck close to my position? Small town square south west of the drop point with about 6 or more hostiles occupying it. Find the fuel tank I'm point my laser sight at and fire, may need some support while moving across the square afterwards.>
He slipped the food into his mouth and moved back down to a prone position, swiping his hands together and gripping the handle with his right hand, slipping his index finger over the trigger and moving his right hand to rest on the scope as he altered his zoom, moving to 12x to check out the painted target. He set his cross hairs slightly above the gas tank, leading it a bit upwards and then moving his head to look through his spotter scope, which was aimed at a piece of cloth in the distance- the cloth was blowing east, which meant the wind was blowing east. He moved his cross hairs a bit west and then depressed the trigger slightly, letting off some of the pressure on the springs in the trigger. He spoke over his headset quietly, "Firing for effect, keep your head down."
He breathed in and slowly exhaled, squeezing the trigger as he left out his breath. The echo of a suppressed .50 cal echoed throughout the square he was in. It sounded less like a gun and more like a wooden paddle smacking a brick wall. The bullet traveled through the air as a man ran in front of the truck and in the direct line of the bullet itself. The .50 round smashed through the man's pelvis, shattering bone and sending an explosion of gore to the ground beside him as the man fell, his upper half of his body barely attached to the bottom. The round finally hit it's target as Spencer turned his head, the bullet crashed through the gas tank, blowing a small hole in the side and careening through to the other side of the tank, sparking against the metal. The spark grew and finally the gas tank caught fire. Within moments the entire truck exploded in a magnificent hail of flame and debris, shrapnel soaring every which way. Several men were knocked over from the blast and seemed to be injured and some, who weren't so fortunate, had large shards of metal sticking out of their charred bodies. Two men were caught fire, screaming and running towards a nearby building.
This display of violence prompted men to take up positions around the area and come out of hiding, grouping together and taking up arms. Spencer moved back to his rifle and peered through the scope. He searched the area of the explosion for any sign of a counter sniper, but he found none- the men were more focused on the area around the truck rather than the street itself, and most of the enemies were pacing around confused. In the chaos, a group of four men ran behind the building the team was in, trying to find the culprit for the explosion that way.
"On target, watch your six."
(OOC: Miles, Paradox, feel free to note in your posts that some enemies were being sniped or taken out as you move forward, cause Spencer's just providing suppressing cover fire. Just make sure to note that it is .50, so there won't be much left of the body.)
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Apr 23, 2010 19:43:16 GMT -5
Nothing but pure insanity waited beyond the steel grate that lead to a side alleyway just outside the kitchen area. From this point on Harold would need to act as a distraction for the multiple undead units that seemed to litter the landscape with numbers gaining high interest in a matter of minutes. Partial to quick in and out style fighting… Harold had no problems shooting whatever would come close…The streets of the colony had seemed to decrease in human activity rather quickly in the past few minutes as the random spells of absolute gunfire failed to occur. The walking dead were absolutely jacked up on something wicked. If he could somehow stealth around with the utmost caution… maybe they would stand a chance…
Nope. That was not going to happen at all. Two carriers had managed to make their way from a Mexican Military Vehicle parked just outside what read, “ Liquor.” The carriers stopped… as if not completely mindless and began to size up Harold with blank white out eyes. Tendrils of flesh hung in rows of crudely eaten masses… The carriers themselves showing no signs of decomposition… No signs of immediate “T-Carrier” traits. They understood that Harold had others with him… possibly even understood that he was armed and dangerous. With a hiss… one of the carriers ran head long down a narrow alleyway while the other rushed Harold with a great manner of speed involved… Even with Six Shots to the creatures facial and torso region in did not go down… The reaction time being flawed due to the wild movement of the Viral Carrier in a ducking format… A warm hand grasping his throat with determination… Moving it’s ivory facial matter in closer to begin the ever so famous feast of the undead… At that point Harold accepted death… But somehow Death did not accept him right yet… The sound of Salvation echoed from the distance with a roar of a mighty beast hunting prey… Harold would open his eyes to the shimmering light from a distance, squatted on the vine covered Tower… The realize that his attacker had been reduced to fragmentations of bone and flesh from the head to Mid Torso… The arm that grasped his throat would loosen and fall to the ground motionless. A second shot would fire yet again to a destination not to far away… Guess Spencer got his buddy too…
With another series of riddled gunfire being heard in the near distance.. Harold had broke away from the team via a side street that would lead him to the back Loading Docks of the Warehouse. Bodies lie in pools of blood and occasional spilled organs lay around them. Most of them lay with eyes open and weapons grasped in their hands at ready… bullets spent in clips. The blood trails showed that many of them had died in a matter of seconds, most likely instantaneously while others had tried to crawl away only to be assaulted from behind with a experts grace. The wounds would show that the means of death was done by claw type appendages and random gaping bite marks roughly three foot wide. Gore littered the walls, decorating the pavement with such a displeasing nature that Harold had to stop and enter a more cautious mode. Not a damn Hunter…
A roar could be heard from the inside of the Warehouse that was so unnatural in means of realism to data on the Hunter Species. It was more or less a cackle that echoed with superior discipline and undivided grace. Sounds of clatter followed by a heaving slam against a metallic object proved that whatever was in there… needed to get the hell out in the open. Another series of gunfire erupted for only six to twelve shots with what could be described as a fully automatic machine variant… Then it was followed by a blood curdling scream… Followed by silence… Harold was curious as to what could be causing such random havoc within the Warehouse… Had Sharne really tampered with the supposed terrorist weapon?
It was obvious that Harold would need to radio Spencer and let him know that these were not Sharnes men. The Militia that currently resided here were hired Mercenaries sent to eliminate Sharne so that he would not speak out against the Russian Compound. Time was of the essence as of now… if Sharne was still alive somewhere in the Warehouse… Harold would need to make sure that Pandora can get the information from him and return him to safety in the United States. Cloak and Dagger was never Harolds thing…
Fidgeting with the radio sequencer lead to Harold being able to tap into Spencer and Pandora radio lines only… He could not trust the others at this point and time with such delicate information. A few steps to the side of the building lead him to a small destroyed crate he could use as refuge to carry out a conversation… If his intuition was correct… Sharne would refuse to go down without taking everyone else with him…
Before he could toggle the voice control… A massive explosion erupted not even three blocks away. Closer… Pan is getting closer.
With grace, Harold hit the call button then spoke in a harsh tone.
“ Do not approach the Warehouse from the North side entrance. I believe that Sharne has released a few of his trading utilities into that part of the premises. The North side is completely gated in with little room for skirmishes with more effective BOWS. My current location in South west loading area near the back gate… Multiple casualties have been confirmed… cadavers showing signs of raking and gaping oral wounds… Possible Alpha Hunter material. Proceed with caution… BOW has had to have some genetic enhancement… Copy?”
Looking around he noted how many fully armed corpses littered the ground… He would then state that with a two second wait period.
“Estimated thirty dead, fully armed, fully armored. Wounds are deep… decapitation and severed limbs also present.”
The moment Harold had sent the message… a more heavy pistol blared from inside the Complex. A deafening roar echoed with agony as the gun fire ceased… A cackle of pride then echoing through the halls and out the back loading door…
“ Make that estimation 31...” He would state somberly…
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 24, 2010 9:34:24 GMT -5
Pot plants swung to and fro from the blast wave, a spot in the creeper vines had been slashed once a piece of metal cut through it and embedded itself in the back wall of the hanging garden. The entire town square had been affected; cracks formed as crumbling from the clay and brick houses was heard, something was loosened up in the pipes as the fountain at the centre of the square was now spewing up copious amounts of water. Across the area, from the hanging garden balcony, the front of one of the buildings slid off exposing the rooms inside. Secondary explosions spat off the truck wreck, extra fuel, stored ammunition; one insurgent who was too close caught a round to the throat, in turn all the other occupants of the area took several dozen quick steps backwards from the inferno. The secondary explosions would hold their attention at least, and the newly dropped rubble from the face of the damaged buildings would provide essential cover. The disorientation of all the gang members in the area wouldn't last long. Meanwhile, under shielding arms, Pandora lifted up her head. The ebony figure watched each subject down below, their reactions, and their behavior. Murmur and movement could be heard in the house of the hanging garden, Pan was glad she had blocked the door when she did. The idea of the search team checking the garden was a possibility; the thought of countering the search entered the ebony agents mind. She stood up and took three big, wide steps towards the door taking a concussion grenade out of her side pack. Pan wedged it between the door and the leg of the table she had used to block it with being certain that the safety lever wouldn't flick off, and then pulled the pin. Improvising slightly, she grabbed two small packets of compost and dragged them over to the table propping them up against the leg opposite the grenade. Now just to escape. A tug to the mesh at one corner of the balcony made an easy hole to climb out of; a trestle nailed into the wall for the creeper was the means of climbing down. The first available cover, an over turned table outside a ransacked first floor home, Pandora slid to and sat against. Now at ground level she was able to get a better view of her surroundings and the precise layout of the square: Typically, it's a square, no more than 50m x 50m. The only way in or out were from the road at the centre of the Southern face, now blocked by a burning truck, a path at the centre of the Northern face with only enough room for people to enter through, and another path at the Southwestern corner heading West; this was Pandora's target. Pan is situated roughly on the left-hand side of the Northern entrance facing South. All of the surrounding buildings were connected entirely, duplex after duplex if you will, and just about every home had a balcony jutting out either made of wood or clay casting a shadow upon every face of the square in the midday sun. A large gap remained between Pan and the rubble of the fallen wall. Compromising, she lashed out at one of the wooden supports of a balcony, snapping it; little rigidity was held in any of the other supports and like dominos they crumbled as the weight was slowly distributed among them. Eventually the balcony collapsed creating the cover Pan had wanted, but gaining a little unwanted attention. Moving to her new cover, there were spots of wood Pan was able to keep her back to among outside furniture which had fallen along with it. Once she'd reached the end of her new cover she went prone and crawled in through an open door. If anyone went searching, they wouldn't find much, it was the next explosion that Pan was waiting for though. The trap back in the hanging garden had been sprung, Spanish curses were wailed as to why the door had been blocked and before long the insurgents had used brute force to break the door down. The table blocking the door was pushed out of the way giving the grenade enough space for the lever to slip off. Greenery, petals and pollen splashed out from the second floor hanging garden spewing out into the square. One of the two bags of compost had been catapulted into an insurgent knocking him out cold while another combusted in mid air and showered another hostile in flames. The mess caused a lax in visibility on one half of the square and the explosion mention had soaked up the rest of the attention Pandora wanted off herself. Springing to action, she roadie ran out of her position and towards the collapsed wall skidding slightly to slow down. Being unable to speak Spanish was a hassle, the Velvet agent was uncertain whether the immediate shouts were directed at her or whether they were simply coincidence when she had moved from one set of cover to the next. There was little point to gamble on the thought; she'd be gone before they had a chance to search the spot she had switched to. The narrow, dusty alley was fairly devoid of... anything. Really small windows pocketed the walls with rope and lines linking between several of them for washing, but asides from that it was just dirt. The exit at the other end on the other hand spewed light into the shadow; while walking towards it Pan couldn't help but smell another open area that she'd have to deal with. It was possible she had reached the other side of the residential block, in reality it was probably safe to stick to the confines of the homes rather than step out into another open road; it meant she was more or less heading in the wrong direction anyway and had probably made a little too much distance from the rest of the team. Pan had to get her bearings again. She shimmied up the walls much like after her dissection, only finding it to be easier the second time around. Pan sat cross legged once she reached the white roofs once more, fishing into her backpack and pulling out her Dagr GPS. Spencer would have his battle station up and running by now, she could simply get the HUD info from him. Taking a detachable piece of kit from the GPS, Pan stitched it onto her headset and had it situated over her left eye. The HUD only had a single cross displayed in 3D as to their approximate destination, a small row of digits showed how far she was from the warehouse while another had the X and Y axis for their AO top down map in yellow. Blocking the view of the warehouses was a three story building which stuck out like a sore thumb from the rest of the clay homes. There was no telling what sort of activity was going on inside from the flat, grey wall Pan faced. She hopped over the alley looking for a decent way inside; if anything it'd provide cover for a small leg of the race. A storm water drain on one corner supplied the means of climbing up to the third floor; there was a window every two metres, Pan tried the one next to the drain finding it to be unlocked. Considering the height it didn't come as too much of a surprise. It was a classroom; fair enough, being in a residential area it was probably built for the children living there. A dozen desks were pushed to either side of the room, chairs stacked neatly; school must have been out when the outbreak hit Mexico. The low budget spoke for itself though, paint peeling from the walls and concrete floor. Harold’s voice then passed over Pandora's frequency. An explanation of the warehouse front. She was slightly surprised he had managed to reach it before herself. Harold: <Possible Alpha Hunter material... Estimated thirty dead, fully armed, fully armored...>Her own voice crackled over the radio, "Nothing we can't kill, advanced or not," Pan's voice came out arrogant, although really she was being factual. A double report resonated from a classroom further down the hall followed by laughter; Pan's comfort zone shrank considerably. Peeking out into the hallway showed that the third level of the building was in fact occupied, about four gang members were in the hall, then the fifth unaccounted for firing off rounds into the street; the total headcount was uncertain being unable to see into the other rooms. No point engaging this many in such a confined area; Pan wouldn't be able to get a shot off with all of them firing at her. Back to the window; she pulled herself back out and started moving across the windowsills. Each gap was more than her arm lengths forcing her to swing across. Third sill along and she suffered a strike, the weathered wood tearing away as she grabbed a hold. Pan stabilized herself, but the sound of the break was hideously loud with voices from the hall shouting out. Pan froze, cursing the luck. She continued to climb along desperate to reach the next sill before anyone popped their head out of the window, once the voices came into the classroom she was forced to stop or be compromised. Pan chanced a glance bringing her head up sideways and dipping it down once she tagged the two targets in the room searching for the source of the noise. "Requesting help Captain," Pandora breathed, her fingers losing grip and her arms beginning to burn, "Take out target to the right, wait for when I move," the situation called for synchronization, any space between shots from Spencer's Light Fifty was too much time for the second target to call for backup. Staring up at the open window above her head, she waited until a pair of dark brown eyes and killer 'stache popped out to make eye contact with her. Pan pulled herself up, grabbed a hold of target and pulled him out with her weight. At the same time the second target exploded into a mess before Pan's vision couldn't see through the window anymore; the first insurgent flew over her shoulder and down to the ground below. Shock stalled the scream long enough for little to be heard once his vocal chords kicked in. Without a second thought the shimmying continued, swinging over to the fourth and final sill. A shout grabbed Pan's attention, looking back at the open window. The sights of an AKS pointing straight at her; she braced herself as bullets cut through the air near her head. a couple of rounds pecked the sill causing it to collapse and break away. The sensation of gravity wasn't a welcome one and although it only lasted for half a second before Pan's fingers snagged on the windowsill below, it was the longest half second she'd ever experienced. The shooting had stopped near immediately, courtesy of another high caliber round shutting the trigger happy insurgent up. Where one came the rest followed, and this time several heads popped out with the will to fire on the Velvet agent. Pandora slid through the window above her before the volley had a better chance of making contact; she did feel a sting as a bullet grazed her right hip splitting open her battlesuit and leaving a horrible graze. Her icy cold fingers covering the red hot wound as she picked herself up and crossed the classroom, seething through her teeth. Anger filled her slightly; Pandora wanted to get down to the ground floor before they had a chance to reach the second. Several more wet 'pops' and 'splotches' were heard from the math of Spencer's rifle. Pandora lifted a pin from a concussion grenade and threw it up the open stairwell to the third floor before dropping over the rail to the first floor. Outside on the open road, one of the trucks were rolling down the lane with machinegun fire erupting from it. The vehicle remained fairly close to the building and probably masked most vision on the left hand side of it as it headed south. Entering an office before anyone on the ground floor had the opportunity to discover her Pan climbed out of a window and ran side by side with it covered in the sound and shadow. The first lane off to her left back into the residential block would be the finale to her disappearing act; whether the insurgents would spread out searching for her was up to them, but it was unlikely they'd ever find her again. --------------------------------------------------- There wasn't a lot of resistance after the last encounter; Harold's claim to the slaughter seemed to be accurate considering no other units were in the area, Pan had even spotted a civilian scavenging through a home on her way to the warehouse. Now with a vantage point over the perimetre wall looking into the front of the warehouse lot she could see the aftermath. Sitting, probably a little too relaxed, with one arm rested on her upright knee; Pandora was annoyed she couldn't survey the bodies a little closer to discern the wounds. Harold seemed correct to avoid that area. Detouring around the perimetre, Pan found a spot to climb over the brick wall and avoid being torn up by the razor wire coating the top of it, "I've reached the warehouse, approaching loading docks, hold your fire," crouching low and leaning out of the corner Pan was able to spot Harold; sweeping the area once more with her eyes she proceeded to move over to where he was, crouching and putting a finger to her ear, "Captain, could you list all possible points of entry?" Pandora asked. A multi directional approach into the building would be nice in her opinion. Aerial view from helicopter.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on May 9, 2010 18:32:46 GMT -5
A sudden cold feeling had just began to sweep over Harold as he watched Savannah and the others rush from the same direction in which he did before. They did not move in the exact same demeanor that he had been use to before this operation… Most people that he had worked with appeared to move in a checked and balanced sweeping style where a leader moved forward with the rest of his team covering him for a huge vantage relay system… The approach of the group caused him to throw his left hand up to slow the rapid gain on his current location, forcing them to slow pace then move to the side. If they wished to survive versus whatever was in the current area… They would be cool and calculative.
Harold gazed over toward Pan with his hand on his pistol now… a cool expression coming over his features as he realized a very probable reason to her troubles with the radio. She had spent close to a minute trying to contact Spencer… with no luck at all in succeeding. They already knew that the team was close… Too close for contact to continue.
With a grunt he switched his Radio out noticing that the signal bar now read “Ready” on it, This meant that it no longer showed the correct corresponding channels that were used before. Inside of him… a fit of sudden rage was building as if it was going to explode. This was not part of the agenda… Could the party already been sitting ducks this early in the hunt?
” They are jamming communications in the area… My signal is dead as hell…”
Once his conversation starter had ended a mutation was visible stalking the vehicle parking lot area just on the other side of a large grated fence. The monster appeared to have long lanky arms with a human reptilian cross breed relation… Huge claws where fingers should be and a deformed Reptilian lining to the skin patters. Sunken eyes… fanged mouth… If it had not be for the overwhelming size and muscle tone in the creature he would have said it was a Hunter Beta… But… This creature was twice the size of any human being… Most likely would level most Tyrant Class weapons with a single slash… Being quiet minus back and forth chatter in that area would most likely prove effective… Starting a gunfight with a creature without combat data compose would seem illogical by all means. Harold would wait for Pans response and her actions for the {TF-Hunter}.
The creature seemed to stalk many of the remaining assault troops that were now scattered about the parking lot in small pockets. Many of them were left dead with little time to put up a half decent fight,
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Post by Evening in Missoula on May 9, 2010 19:47:40 GMT -5
Heading in to the area, Savvy huffed in frustration at the people she was forced to work with. Unorganized and they weren't taking order's very well. This was such a good impression to make. Savannah followed Harold's instructions and passed it on to the team behind her. She trusted Harold enough, he was rather capable and seemed to know what he was doing. Savvy wasn't so hardheaded that she couldn't recognize a good leader when she saw one. Despite having a capable leader to follow, Savannah felt a terrible pit in her stomach. Something was wrong here, very very wrong. She tried to swallow that feeling, but just as she did Harold spoke up.
” They are jamming communications in the area… My signal is dead as hell…”
Sh*t. Sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t. This is bad. She hissed inside her own head. As she was about to speak up, she spotted the mutation. A chill ran down her spine. That thing was huge and boy it did not look happy. And Savvy wasn't one to be easily intimidated. Looking it over, she took out her SIG but didn't take aim. Being armed was one thing, but attacking a creature of that size without a plan? Well, she wasn't an idiot. They needed an idea of what to do, they needed a plan of attack or retreat, but either way they needed a plan.
She gave the rest of the team the signal to stay put for the time being, along with a look that implied that if any of them made so much as a little bit of noise as to give their position away she'd personally see to it that they were the first one to meet that beast's claws. Once Savvy knew that they'd heard her loud and clear, she padded lightly and quickly over to Harold as the creature tore through one of the assault troops it had caught up with. "F*ck..." She murmured and ignored the screams of absolute agony as well as ignoring their abrupt halt. Upon reaching Harold's position she whispered very lightly.
"What the sh*t is that creature and how the f*ck are we gonna go about this? It's pretty clear we can't rush at it, guns a-blazing."
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Post by Lunapocalypse on May 9, 2010 21:19:52 GMT -5
Surroundings seemed to wash away when the Hunter came into view, one that sure as hell didn't fit into any group on the B.O.W. database. Pandora had already made the connection between the infected carrier she'd completed an autopsy on and the Hunter directly in the lot in front of them; they were both hideously advanced, but typically necrosis wasn't a factor for B.O.W.s which meant all that extra upgrade had to go somewhere else. Pan wasn't sure about anyone else, but she'd already built up a little profile of potential weak spots of the target; testing theories was usually reserved for practice after an open autopsy though, first contact wasn't the option admired; Pan filed it regardless for a run in further down the track.
”They are jamming communications in the area… My signal is dead as hell…”
A brief tap to the headset vindicated all cells in the air were scrambled, So much for the warehouse entrances, Pan thought. Savannah had finally regrouped on them and shared her own brief dialogue of grief, making a very... very obvious observation:
"It's pretty clear we can't rush at it, guns a-blazing."
For a little further clairvoyance though: The behavior of the Hunter wasn't the same as previous encounters. Pan summed this up simply on the fact that dead bodies were on the inside of the compound, and the concrete remained fairly blood free on the outside. The creature was territorial, an most likely designed that way too; programmed if you wanted to be specific, but controlling one of these things was still a bit of a faux concept. The key was this Hunter having two levels of behaviour, unlike other hunters which only have one: Search and Destroy, which can lead the B.O.W. to wander aimlessly until if finally runs into something squishy.
This one seemed to still be in guard mode; it hadn't ventured outside of the compound, or rather it didn't have reason to, and was yet to enter search and destroy mode. If any time was right to move then it would be now, "The trailers through out the yard will provide ample cover. We'll move to the tall structure at the centre of the yard first before choosing our point of insertion into the warehouse," debate was pointless at this stage, both of the agents near Pan seemed to be wanting a 'plan' anyway so filling that void would probably help them get a riggle on, "Odds of there being multiple Hunters are high, keep watch for signs of secondary movement," she waited for the monster to patrol in the other direction before roadie running off for the first block of trailers.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on May 9, 2010 23:22:48 GMT -5
”Pretty much… If that gargantuan gets the general location of us… we’re screwed.”
Harold had whispered this behind his shoulder to Savannah as he adjusted the Ruger with careful preparation. The sound of the young woman’s voice was somewhat like a melody through his wore torn ears. He had to block out that sirens call as he turned his mind back to his weapon with a experts grace. Effectively, his footing adjusts quickly with the grace of a swan as he semi-circled to the source of that concept and nodded with acceptance. His eyes showed a bit more compassion than most were use to seeing from him. Kind of like… if we get out of this… look me up sometime. But, that said emotion quickly faded with a calculated adjustment of his ring… his good luck.
Pan seemed to know what she was doing in terms of calculative observation for the most part. Harold had absolutely no complaints on her theory and layout of getting from point A to point B with as little conflict as possible. The woman was bright without a doubt… Strictly business to a fault… Harold would not prefer it any other way. Her demeanor forced his eyes to narrow as she took off for the first set of trailers with a almost inhuman determination. Her rushing footsteps seemed to be cloaked by her own unique stance and posture… Her eyes were most likely presumed to be focused on the next locale while keeping a clear mind on where the creature would create chaos next. She was on top of her game to the fullest extent of the expression. This woman was trained for events such as these… best to stay on her good side.
Multiple gunshots rang out from the opposing side of the area as another swarm of troops apparently misjudged the distance between the creature and their own location. Many of them lowered weapons in a attempt to run off premises as the creature charged full force with a surprisingly swift nature toward them. Those that wished to stand and fight unloaded calculated rounds the hide of the beast as it showed signs of damage. Heavy Machine guns tearing into the creatures flesh allowed the beast to emit a high impulse screech from the depths of its own throat. With the creature damaged… the men moved forward. It had seemed they had some success taking down the mutation when the rounds stopped echoing. It stopped making noise and laid silent after a large thump of reptilian scales and flesh crashed to the ground. Random gibberish to those that did not understand Spanish would emerge from a Husky voice… ” This one is not moving… stand clear… Sweeping formations are at go on my---”
The mans words cut off sharply by another source of brash irrational gunfire in the opposite direction. A multitude of troopers screaming for help as the candles of their lives were snuffed out one by one. The attention given from the downed mutation allowed another creature to easily make it’s way into the fray with little regard to it. The creature stormed through the crowd of people while dismembering and slaying with fluid grace… the inner working of the troopers pouring across the concrete with muffled splats. The blood cry of the ferocious second being coming into full effect as it march to it’s fallen comrade. The size and shape were identical… but something was shown about traits of these creatures that was never witnessed before. A small reaction of sympathy synthesized in a harmonic gurgle as the second creature stood over the first… Surely it was not mere chance… And for God’s Sake Pan was right.
Harold did his best to stay against the large structure as the creature moved out of his aisles view… the remains of what was left of the troopers lying just within view under the rear axels. His view was hazed by the remaining cloud of war… The bullet riddled presumed corpse of the first mutation lying on the ground with arms extended… Sprawled out. The creature could or could not be dead due to the distance and the survivability of decreased breathing patterns. The second had marched off presumably to return to it’s post… or something of that nature… How many were there? Echoes of randomized grunts and growls could be heard seconds before the add on came into effect… Was it a unit?
Harold readjusted his posture as his hand went for his Ruger instinctively… wishing like hell that six calculated shots was enough to take them down. Why had he not been told to be prepared for highly lethal abominations… no scratch that… well thought out mutations capable of leveling entire battle groups with such ease.
” Tell me that did not just happen… What in the Sam Hell just happened there?”
He saw the interaction with his own eyes… but to believe it was beyond him.
He looked to the group that seemed a bit weary behind Savannah… most of them unable to speak or even move due to the large impact that the scene had portrayed. The S T A R S had indeed sent in some people that would not be making it home if it were not for Pan and Savannah… and Spencer…
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Post by Evening in Missoula on May 10, 2010 7:36:15 GMT -5
”Pretty much… If that gargantuan gets the general location of us… we’re screwed.”
"Well sh*t, cowboy. I'm reading you loud and cuh-lear." She responded, over-annunciating the last word in a tone far more casual than the situation called for. This didn't mean she wasn't serious about the mission, by no means did it imply that. It simply meant that Savannah was keeping herself calm and collected, in her own way. It was all she could do to keep herself together in tense situations. She caught Harold's eye and was struck by the bit of compassion she saw in his gaze. It was something she wasn't expecting and it caught her off guard. So much so that her first instinct was not to question his sexuality, but to consider the offer being put forth. She snapped out of it of course, she always did, and was about to tell him to move, to keep up with that soldier of a woman they were following, when she noticed the troop attacking the creature.
Poor bastards... they don't stand a chance in hell. She thought to herself, watching the scene with a hard head and a strong stomach, expecting full well for all of them to be torn to pieces. She was surprised to see that those who stayed to fight actually did some damage. No way... They were actually hurting it? They were! And after a short time the gunfire ceased, and she heard and felt a loud thump of flesh on the floor beneath. Savvy smiled at their success with the beast, well, she nearly did, until she heard the man's spanish. His words cut off by gunfire. Sh*t. Pandora was right, there were more than one of those things.
Their cries of pain and agony being cut off one at a time by the creature's deathly claws was a bit more than disheartening, Savannah frowned, watching intently. Seeing the blood pool underneath the pile of bodies, hearing the sickening splat of organs hitting the ground, she let out a quiet, unnoticeable sigh. Poor, poor bastards... That thing truly was a monster. Savvy would have turned away, out of a dignified sort of respect she very rarely showed in public, if she hadn't caught sight of exactly what Harold was seeing. That beast was standing over it's fallen comrade, and it seemed... sad. Could those things even be sad? She shook her head and grabbed her gun tight.
”Tell me that did not just happen… What in the Sam Hell just happened there?”
She answered his question with another question, what was bothering her the most about the encounter. "Was that thing.. was it mourning?" She knew beasts like that could kill, did kill, but she'd never heard of one actually mourning it's dead. That was absolutely surreal, and it did nothing to quell the pit in her stomach. She shook her head and very carefully started to move, tapping Harold on the shoulder lightly. "Come on Cowboy, we gotta catch up to Pandora." She urged both Harold and the rest of their team, following the other woman's example and waiting until she knew the Hunter wasn't watching before darting out to the first block of trailers, keeping low and making it there successfully.
As she neared a corner, a man rushed out from behind it and grabbed her by the shoulders, blubbering meakly in incoherent spanish. He had a long bloodied gash running from his right shoulder to his left hip, and blood was covering his arms and hands. Startled, Savvy clamped a hand over her mouth to stop any sound from escaping. She pushed him off roughly and immediately, and aimed her SMG directly at his face, giving him an expression that regardless of the language you spoke read clearly as 'Shut the f*ck up you a**hole!'. He backed off, staggering, and she lowered her weapon, catching him just as he slumped over. Poor guy had lost a lot of blood from that wound, he clearly wasn't going to make it through the next hour or so, let alone another day. She knelt and set him down with a soft sigh. "Shh..." She hushed quietly, sitting him up against the trailer. As the man went cold, she stood up and grimly whispered some of the small bit of spanish she knew, "Buenos noches, señor."
Looking back at the team with blood smeared on her forearms and a little staining her shirt, she was a bit embarrassed. With a crack of her neck and tough look, she nodded as if to say, 'C'mon assbaskets, let's get a move on!'.
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Post by .Merios on May 10, 2010 15:58:46 GMT -5
"s***!"
Spencer spat, pulling out his ear bud and letting it hang around his neck with it's spiral cord draping over his chest. He pulled away from his laying down position and moved to stand, tossing his ghillie suit off and pulling his .50 up from it's position, his right hand moving to smack the bi-pod back into the bottom of the weapon. The bell tower was high enough to allow him to sling the weapon over his back with the very long silencer still attached. He pulled the ghillie suit towards him and knocked over his netbook and tri-pod spotter scope as well as the trash from his rations all in a pile. He draped his ghillie suit over the pile and reached into his back pocket. He withdrew what looked like a small silver cylinder. He unscrewed the top and draped what looked like some sort of liquid over the pile of his belongings. He kicked the pile towards one of the windows and screwed the lid to the cylinder back on and stuffing it in his back pocket. He pulled out a flint lighter from his right pocket and flicked it to life. He felt saddened for a moment, but then tossed the lighter onto the pile, the chemical substance he poured onto it immediately lighting it ablaze in a green fire that soared upwards out the window, licking the sky- a signal.
Within moments, he heard the telltale sounds of a helicopter above him. He quickly moved out of the bell tower through the opposite window from the fire and jumped out to the roof, landing slightly off balance but catching himself. He looked up, his right hand blocking the wind from his eyes as he watched the chopper drop what looked like a rope ladder. He readjusted the rifle over his shoulder and grasped onto the ladder, swinging a bit backwards before pulling himself up the rungs haphazardly. Finally, the men down on the ground notice and begin firing rounds in his direction. He was one rung away from the top when the helicopter began moving away. One bullet struck the rung at the top, crushing it and lodging the bullet in the underside of the chopper. Spencer lost his balance and tried to catch himself on the missing rung but failed- an arm reached out from within the helicopter and he grabbed it tightly. He couldn't see much at the moment, but he was soon pulled into the bay of the chopper, laying on his stomach as the chopper soared high above.
"Sir! We lost contact, what is the status of your team?"
Spencer sighed a bit and stood up, slinging off his rifle and laying it on the floor. He moved to sit on a bench, reaching underneath his seat and pulling out what looked like a straw cowboy hat. With a grin he slipped it onto his head, pulling the chin strap underneath his head.
"I trust they're fine, but in any event, we should head to the warehouse. That was our last point of contact."
The chopper began moving towards the warehouse as Spencer moved to sit on the chair behind the mini-gun, strapping himself in and resting his elbows crossed on the barrel of the gun, watching the scenery as it passed.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on May 10, 2010 23:39:42 GMT -5
Unbeknownst to Pandora, she'd managed to move far ahead of the group. He idea was to all move in one single pack; this proved she wasn't paying a lot of attention to her team mates when she should have been. Crouched between a row of trailers and the tall structure - the purpose of which still hadn't been worked out by the Ebony agent - she waited for the rest of her team to regroup.
Glancing back, Pan spotted Savannah getting mixed up with a rather touchy feely Mexican. The fear of their location being compromised from a gun shot suddenly became very realistic, but Savvy seemed to handle the situation well. Pan was rather jelous as she'd managed to put the man to rest without even throwing a punch.
The team regrouped, "It would be best to enter via multiple locations," Pan started to speak, "At this Southern entrance there are two doors either side, we should have a decent view of everything once we're in leaving no blind spots open and leaving us less vulnerable," she turned around without assigning anyone to any entrances; that part was entirely up to them; and signalled for the group to move.
They had reached a gap between the next two rows of trailers before Pan stopped them, feeling a bead of sweat slide down her cheek. Dark space silence. There was one particular feeling she never enjoyed, and that was the sixth sense of your predator having just gotten the upper hand on you.
Hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and with her fist still in the air she turned around slowly. A Hunter had wedged itself over the gap standing on top of the trailers looking down intently on one of the BSAA agents. The agent looked up and opened his mouth to scream, but not a sound came out as the Hunter beat him to it opening its own mouth and clamping down around his neck. A wet crunch and the muffled agony of what was left of the BSAA agent's vocal chords echoing inside the Hunters mouth as it leapt off of the trailers, disappearing.
Each remaining soul stood there, in dead silence, as solid as a statue; the realization still seeping in. Pandora ushered the 'move' signal intensely forcing the team out and towards the warehouse. The sooner they reached it the better their cover would be.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on May 11, 2010 18:04:36 GMT -5
The otherwise shocking nature of the event that had just taken place sent Harold for a loop. The man that had been hanging back to issue support fire for the squad had just been ripped in two within seconds. A awkward sound of bone clattering against bone flooded the mans ears as the body still stood… Weapon dropping to the ground with a metallic clang… The corpse was still jittering as if hit by a large amount of electrical energy… A all too familiar dark fluid parading from victims neck in repetitive gushes. No use trying to save him now… The facts were more than obvious now… The creatures were well aware of the teams presence now. The process of picking them off one by one has now come into effect. The corpse of the BSAA agent hits chest first on the ground with a wicked thud… Hell of a way to go… No chance…
Harold sidestepped momentarily to try and draw his weapon to open what little bit of fire he had on the creature. It was instinctively driven for his weapon to be un-holstered and pointing dead at the creature while his eyes traced frame by frame the pattern of escape. No bullet was fired because there was no target to hit in that amount of time. The creature was faster than his reaction time… faster than Pans… As if it were impossibly fast. The only phrase that could describe the amount of time for the ambush was, ‘ Faster than the Speed of Light.’
“ Let’s Move!”
His voice was hoarse due to his stomach being where his throat was supposed to be located… Harold did as Pan would do… Follow her into the lions mouth. Hopefully the others could keep up.
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Kruger
Zombie Hunter
War cat dose not approve of your actions. 0.0
Posts: 270
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Post by Kruger on May 11, 2010 18:45:27 GMT -5
Lee was in shock for a second after the B.S.A.A agent was attacked. The reason why is because he was in front of the agent that had got killed. Wiping off the blood that splattered on his gas mask visor he heard someone in front give the order:
[Harold] “ Let’s Move!”
He got up and started running. Doing the best he could to keep up with the man in front of him. The gear he was wearing was suffocating and the heat was starting to set in. He looked over his shoulder and saw two other agents behind him. One of them was named Nolan and he knew that only because of the name tag on the uniform. He now slung the Sig 556 over his should as if started bouncing off his back. Anything he could do to get some weight off of him without losing important gear he did. He undid his helmet strap and his gas mask. they kicked off his boots as he ran behind the man keeping up a little better now since he lost some weight and heat. He said to the man in front him in short burst so he could keep on running.
"What...kind...of..hunter..is..that?"
He was somewhat relived when he saw that they were almost to the warehouse.
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