NationStates Jolt Archive

Dark, save for intermittent strobing of sheet lightning lacing purple flares through the umbra hued pregnant bellies of the storm clouds that draped across the nighttime skyline of Houston's compact downtown. Dark, as nearly ninety percent of the sprawling mega-metropolis was without power.

Dark, and without serenity as beings the Mundanes prefered not to acknowledge came forth to revel in the storm. Dark and without security as the clandestine internal war those beings were still engaged in, that had wracked the secret halls of power in the city still went on. Dark and without comfort as the winds that howled along at street level seemed unable to dislodge those swollen clouds that hung so low one felt one could touch them.

Dark and with danger...

However there was one gleaming beacon in the darkness. Cains had it's own generators, and the neon lights spilled forth in a glittering temptation for those who chose to dare the storm and the dark. Music rumbled the massive panes of glass that formed the south wall...

"And now by request, since it is just the right sort of night for this" The DJ sang out from his booth high above the dance floor, as his agile six fingered hands danced across the controls and the club was envelloped in deep purples and ultraviolets..and the first, unlikely piano chords of the Live at the Montreuaxversion of Deep Purple's ...then the discordant synth and tortured guitar...and the drums keeping the beat...

And the revellers filled the dance floor
We all came out to .......
"Montrose" the dancers screamed out...
On the lake geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didnt have much time
Frank Zappa and the Mothers
Were at the best place around
Cains! came the response.
But some
Mundanethey added with laughter belling in their voices.
with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground
Ain't gonna happen here! they roared back.
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
An we seen that!

They burned down the gambling house
Not the Overlook!A single female voice gasped in mock horror
It died with an awful sound
Funky Claude was running in and out
Pulling kids out the ground
When it all was over
We had to find another place
Nevah! Cain's is fo'aevah!
But swiss time was running out
It seemed that we would lose the race
None of the revelers were aware of just how swiftly their time was indeed running out.
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
"Fire on the water, smoke in the sky" they sang the local reversal remembering the time that it had bee fire on the water plumeing smoke towards the sky...

burning, burning, burning, burning...

We ended up at the grand hotel
It was empty cold and bare
And charged too much!
But with the rolling truck stones thing just outside
Making our music there
With a few red lights and a few old beds
We make a place to sweat
At eight minutes into the music some of the dancers were indeed beginning to sweat, but many were not and could have danced for hours - and often did, but the undead don't sweat and Were's would generally passout before letting a Vampire show them up...
No matter what we get out of this
I know well never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
We'll never forget!
"Fire on the water, smoke in the sky"
I can't hear ya!
"Smoke on the water, fire in the sky""Fire on the water, smoke in the sky"

And Cains being what it ws the DJ slewed in to Blue Oyster Cult's classic - and a club favorite - Don't Fear the Reaper. No one left the dance floor., they being right where they wanted to be...

Sian sat back and let Jackie handle the Sagaris. The Devil may have disowned him, lost him, let him go - neither of them were quite sure which it was, but the abilities and 'little' lessons he'd imparted to Jackie still remained. And that meant that he was handleing the powerful sports car as if were an extension of him, as well as Ryan could have. Despite the buffets of the high swirling winds he held the car to a perfect, invisible centerline down the lane he was in as they roared toward the city center. They were the only car on this stretch of I-10 and he had the Sagaris going full out.

Cain's might have been their destination but it wasn't a pleasure outing. The meeting they were headed for was necessary to try and bring about some closure to the on-going hostilities. Cain was gone, a month now, and still minor- and some not so minor -fire and counter fire were still happening.

'Spring is supposed to be peacefull, not filled with Cains's partisans still holding out and sniping at people. Nor are we supposed to have hurricanes this early" She groused half under her breath.

Jackie spared a moment to glance over at the woman he loved and gave a soft snort that was only half amused. "I know Lainy, If they didn't feel that Ryan was just going to let who ever wanted to be top fang be top fang they'd have given up. I understand how he feels about politics, but unless he puts his foot down and wither takes over or puts some one inplace, it's going to keep on."

"Sian sighed and nodded "Agreed. It's the barometer falling, has be itchy feeling. And it really is not normal to have a hurrican this early. All the Mundane weatherforecasters are just throwing up their hands and flinging out what will suit their stations political ajenda."

Jackie laughed aloud at the disgust in her voice "Well, at least they aren't blaming it on us." It felt a little stange still to consider himself as part of the Strange Folk, the Night Life. Before he'd come to Houston last month he'd been deliberately keep away from it.

He glanced at Lainy again and smiled inside I'm glad I can to Houston, even if it ws under the most crap of circumstances. I found Lainy again, and maybe now I'll have a chance to convince her that I do love her. I was so wrong all those years ago and I fucking lied to every one, and most of all to her. Not going to again. She deserved far better than that and the retired mob hitman was determined to give it to her, if she allowed him to. Even if she doesn't choose me.

He expertly swung the candy apple red Sagaris off of the Interstate and onto the surface streets of downtown Houston. Bagby was the next one way south and so he joged over a block and swung right on the the dark street.

He wasn't really worried about the weather, he had other things on his mind

Dracul had returned from one of his rare pro bono kills, and was taking a shower as he stretched, feeling his shoulder pop. With the fact that much of the city’s power was out, he was taking a cold shower but he didn’t mind the temperature, at least as long as it wasn’t hail. As the water washed over him he decided take a 'day off', something he didn't do often.

Toweling off, he headed to get dressed in a basic black shirt and slacks over his 'civy' armour. Wrapping the towel around his head he wondered how the woman, who'd contracted him to kill her daughter's rapist, had know how to get in touch with him. With a shrug he put it out of his mind as regardless, the man who'd thought his power and wealth would protect him from the consequences of his actions, had learnt the final lesson of his life.

He headed out grabbing a black trench, one of his pistols and a combat knife and headed out to a local club by detouring thought a casino. Looking up at the name, he saw it was called Cains. Paying the cover charge, he headed in. As he began to make his way to the bar, he noticed a staircase that was done in the traditional representation of DNA or the double helix. Arriving at the bar, he ordered a glass of water. Taking a seat he glanced out at the crowds dancing to music that he personally found ludicrous, his general posture being that one of not wanting to be pestered.

It was not unusual for strangers to come to Cains, especially not with the club being attached to the Overlook Casino which joined to the Armand Hotel on the east side. The hotel had their won generators, but several main breakers had blown with the first power surge that heralded the nearly city wide outage. The electricians had promised that they would have full power back on by midnight, but that was several hours away. For now the guests of hte Armand made do with candles, decorative, but functional oil lamps, and dim energency lighting that keep the hallways from being pitch black.

The Overlook Casino was closed for play, with no power the security measures had put the establishment into lock down mode.THe battery powered emergency lighting, like that of the Armand provided just enough light that so that the patrons could leave safely. The staff had escorted unhappy patrons out, or tow their rooms if they happened to also be guests of the Armand. Handing out enough complimentry passes as to nearly beggar the Casino wasn't pleasant for the managers to contemplate but they did so with no hesitation.

The storm shield closing had been the last thing the management had gotten done before the storm and the power outage had struck, and they were pleased. Despite the assurances of the engineers, none of the management really trusted the thick, high tensile, high tech polyplexiglass to hold when a storm as bad as the unexpected hurricane hit.

But with the exception of a few guests taking the dry, and safe, way though the Overlook Casino to Cains, the establishment was empty save for a limited number of staff.

One of the last of the staff to be sent home pulled her supple leather duster tight about her as she strode from the casino into Cains. She wasn't planning to stay long but now that she was off duty she wanted a drink, and the casino's bar was closed.

And Charli had no intention of taking the Phoenix out of the safety of the parking garage into the teeth of the off season hurricane anyway. She'd get a room at the Armand, using her employee assoicate discount, if the eye hadn't made it to land by the time she got too tired to drive. But she'd slept till nearly five that evening and it wasn't much past nine now. Charli knew she was good to go for hours yet.

As she got her favorite, a frozen Pina Colada, and headed to a booth she noticed one of those she had let in through from the Armand so they could cross in comfort to Cains. He showed every signal of wanting to be alone so she didn't even nod to him as she passed on her way to the booth she had scoped out from the bar. He reminded her os some one but she couldn't quite put a finger on who though. Mentally she shrugged and as she slid into the booth half waved at some of the Night Life she knew.

Several days earlier ..........


Tamerlane opened his eyes to see the beautiful face of the one some called the Scarlet Huntress smiling silkily down at him. "... Red?” he breathed.

“Good memory, lover. Miss me?” she asked in a husky whisper that immediately aroused him.

He grinned, reaching up to run his fingers through her silky red hair.

She smiled, her fangs clear and strangely bright in his sight. Then she lunged, sinking her teeth into his unprotected neck………….

Tamerlane jerked awake with a gasp and then started again at the feeling of someone beside him. It took a moment to realize that the red headed woman in his bed was his maid. The former one had to be 'retired', unfortunately. She had learned far too much and was going to talk. He had taken care of that with the new one. The lobotomy left her a bit uninteresting in bed, but she served her purpose and could still perform basic tasks. When asleep she looked normal at least, with her vacuous eyes closed.

In another moment it registered in his brain that the com on his bureau was beeping ,and with a snarl of displeasure at being interupted, he flung himself from the rich linnens of the bed to answer it.

“Prefect. We have word on the Scarlett Huntress.”

Finally, he thought, though he answered in a pious, almost disinterested voice. “Indeed?”

“Yes Prefect. Prelate Braknikov has already sent a squad of Shock Troopers.”

Bastard, Tamerlane thought. “Can they be recalled?” He querried, letting just a small fraction of concern creep into his tones.

“Prefect?”

“Can the troopers be recalled. I wish to have her brought back, alive. Besides, she has already destroyed an entire squad, what’s to stop her from doing so again?” Tamerlane elucidated, struggling to keep the anger returning within him from sounding too savagely in his tones.

“It’s too late, Prefect, I’m sorry.” The adjutant's voice was filled with abjct apology. He knew the Prelate well enough, after many years of service, to know the saintly one's buried anger when he heard it.

“Send for a special agent, immediately.” Tameralne ordered bruskly as he thought furiously of a way to salvage the onrushing fiasco.

“Yes, Prefect.”

“WAIT! Send Special Agent Sherlinda specifically.” Oh yes she would relish being the one to take down that damnable renegade Tamerlane smiled to himself.

“She’s just returning from assignment, Prefect, she needs to be debriefed.”

“That’s fine”, Tamerlane replied, “send her once it’s done.”

“By your will Prefect.”

Tamerlane closed the line and stood by the bureau for a moment longer. "Bitch"’, he muttered, "I’ll have you again." Then he returned to his bed, waking the nymphlike woman and thinking of the one he truly wanted to get his hands on.

A few hours later ...........

Once Sherlinda had finished with the debriefing, which was more like an interrigation, she was ordered immedietly to the Prefect's office. She quickly made her way there, wondering what could have occured that would grant such a high honor.

Tamerlane finished with his maid and then dressed in his robes of state, arranging them just so to appear slightly disheveled but not too much so. Once arranged he entered his office and began pacing, awaiting the arrival of the special agent. Once she had entered the outer office he poured himself half a cup of cold black coffee and scattered some reports on his desk then sat down assumed an appropriate, put upon, posture.

"COME", he stated when the adjutant buzzed.

"Special agent Sherlinda as you requested", she told him and at his nod stepped to the side to allow her to pass.

Sherlinda was brown haired and brown eyed, looking no more than about sixteen. But anyone foolish enough to take her at her age, especially if they were the target, didn't live to regret it. She was dressed in the brown robe of the order at the moment and stepped before his desk. Though he gave her a somewhat friendly smile he didn't ask her to sit, but rather left her standing as a token of his power over her and waved off the adjutant.

"Special agent Shelinda. You have performed your tasks with distinction", he stated in a silky voice. "Having done so, you have earned the right of one of the greatest assignments that we have to offer."

Sherlinda's interest was piqued, but he had not given her permission to speak, and so, remained silent.

He stood, giving a slight grimace, as though he had been sitting for hours and then, as though only just noticing she was still standing, gestured her to take a seat. "You have earned", he began as she sat down, "the right to not only capture an irritating renegade, but also, should the opportunity present itself, to retire a traitor. A blasphemer of the most foul kind. One who had been in our fold and chosen the way of the monsters."

Sherlinda went wide eyed but still remained silent. Could it be that she would have the opportunity to face the Scarlett Huntress and the traitorous Godolkin?

"The Huntress", he continued, pleased at her interest, "is in Houston. A detachment has been sent to retrieve her, but I fear that she may not go with them." He turned and moved back to his desk and, shaking his head slightly, he sat, almost deflatedly, on the edge. "I fear she will kill those whom we sent to bring her back into the fold, just as she killed the others."

He seemed heart broken as she looked at him, but all she felt was the driving need to get moving. To begin this new hunt and let the Huntress become the hunted.

"You will bring her in. That is your top priority. If the opportunity expresses itself, then you may retire the traitor. Do you understand your orders?"

She stood up, folding her hands in front of her. "Retrieve the renegade and, if possible, retire the traitor."

"Precisely, my dear", he replied and stood up as though weary. "Go with God child, and may He find it in His heart to return you to us."

She dropped to one knee, bowing her head, "By His will, Prefect." She then stood and headed out of the room, excited about her new assignment.

Bang.

Click click click click click.

Footsteps.

More of the light clicking noise.

Lights on.

"Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is this sort of joke?" a man, dressed in a pair of jungle fatigue pants and a somewhat snug black tshirt swore, looking at the four people who had just entered the room.

His face was angry, and his voice matched. The four men who had just entered, seconds behind a flashbang, now had their IMI contracted Heckler and Koch MP5/10SDIs slung from their chests, and four steel targets now had a number of holes in the facial region. There were also two bullet holes in the walls, and a digital clock, its red readout blinking 00:12.

"This is not a fucking game people. If you think it is, then get the fuck outa here, and get the hell out of my unit. I will not let a bunch of fucking noob ass pansies who want to play soldier embarass me or my unit. You aren't in the 22nd any more. NAVSPECWAR is behind you all. You are now part of IMC TRACT, and I will not let you fuck up."

He turned, looking at one of the targets. It only had a single hole in it, square centered beteen the eyes, but a single hole none the less. "Who the hell is the one man?"

"I am, sir," one of the assulters said, his face hidden behind the black mask.

"Why the fuck does this target only have one hit?"

"My weapon jammed sir, by the time I cleared it, the assault was already over. But its a kill shot, sir."

"You don't fucking know that! He could have had a helmet on. His head could have been behind a piece of glass and the round deflected. Hell, maybe he has a bullet proof face! That is the wrong fucking answer son. You know the rule. Three shots into every target. If your weapon jams, don't waste time clearing it. Discard and use your fucking side arm. What if there had been one more target in your corner. Would you have let it go because you took one of them down?"

"No, sir. But the standard side arm only carries seven rounds, what if I had to take out more targets?"

The angry man reached up, and ripped a knife from its sheath on the assaulters assault vest. "Then you cut their fucking heads off." He tossed the knife to the floor. "And what the hell is this. The clearing took twelve seconds from flashbang to all targets down. That is not fucking good enough! If you people are not down to ten seconds max by this Friday, I will dump you all and start all the fuck over with better operators! You MUST be faster!"

"Sir," another man spoke, "the forty five for a side arm, its not accurate enough to get off three quick rounds like with the subgun or a rifle."

The instructor moved to the man, inches from his face. With a lightning quick motion, he yanked the IMI Combat Custom from the man's holster, spun, and fired off three rounds. It sounded less like three shots, and one single long blast. When those in the room directed their attention to one of the targets, three clean, fresh holes were marked in the face, less than an inch apart. "The weapon is accurate."

He paused, and looked at the assulters. "Listen. Force Recon-TRACT is no more. No longer are we just grabbing a bunch of men with operational specialties, and sticking them together to make an uber team. You men are the new wave. Imitora Marine Corp TRACT. Tactical Recon, Assault, and Counter Terror. You have to be better than you were in the past."

"The days of the ease of life in teh 22nd Special Ops, or NAVSPECWAR are over. No more sitting around with free time like you were in the IAF Combat Control. You have to be the best. You have to be mean, angry, and above all, violent. We do not take prisoners, and the phrase shoot first, ask questions later does not apply here. With us, its shoot first, and if you can ask questions, then your aim sucks. You men were selected by me. I have a stack of files in my office of men who would kill to have your positions. This is the first TRACT unit since the desolvement of Force Recon, and I will be God Damned if I let you fuck this up."

"TRACT is the best, boys. We are better than the US's Delta. We are better than the British SAS. We are better then any Imitoran Special Operations Force. We are better than the krauts and their GSG-9. If you name a special operations group, I will tell you honestly that we are better than they could ever be. They come to us for advice and help. We are stronger, we are stealthier, we are faster, we are smarter, and we kill better. I expect perfection. I demand it. And if you don't give it to me, I will cut your ass before you can even clear your weapon. Do you get me?"

"Sir yes sir!" was the chorus of reply.

"Good. Now get the hell out of here, shower up, and take your leave. You will be back here tommorow at 0530, and we will go through every fucking kill house in this nation at least twenty times so that you people are perfect for every scenario we are involved in. Rember gentlemen: strength can bruise, force can sting, and violence can hurt. But in the end, its speed that kills. Now clear out, hooah!"

"HOOAH!" they replied, and slowly filed out.

"Christ Rob, hard enough on them."

Capt. Robert Fortier, Imitora Marine Corp, turned and looked at his team's Master Sergent. "Look, Dave, I know I seem harsh, but you've been with me in every op I've been on. You know I'm saving their lives like this."

"Hooah sir, I get you there. Still, most of these guys didn't even see combat with their respective units. And on both teams, the majority are 22nd SOTF. Most of them spent a week at most at room clearing and other MOUT tactics. You were 22nd, you know the unofficial moto: If it has a window, put explosives through it."

Robert nodded. "Still, I want these guys to be better than that. They need to understand the mission."

"Hooah sir."

"Now get your ass outa here Dave. Get back to Linda and your kids, take the rest of the day off."

"On one condition sir."

"Oh, whats that?"

"You do the same thing and get home to spend some time with Ayana."

Robert chuckled. "Its a deal. I'll see ya tommorow Dave. Bright and earlier. Oh, and get your gear together, you and I are gonna be leading the teams in. I want them to see how we do it."
___

Robert Fortier was getting old in military years. Slowly creeping up on his mid forties, he was no longer the 30 year old spec ops soldier he used to be. However, political plays, plenty of real world shooting expierence, and friends in the right places had served him nicely, and when word got out that Force Recon-TRACT was being disolved, and a new TRACT only group was being set up, he was the first name on the list to start a team.

He had spent days going through the file of every applicant, he got first pick. He had first reservation of any kill house, assault course, or shooting range he wanted, and even got first pick of team armorers and support personel. But now, as he blasted down an open highway towards his home in Northampton, riding jacketless but with a helmet on the back of a black Suzuki Hayabusa, his mind drifted else where.

First, he thought of the crash. Four years previous, the Imitora Player Run 2k6, the tire being shot out on the BMW, the feeling of the entire world crashing on you at over 250 miles per hour, and awaking in the hospital almost a full week later, finding out how much surgery you had undergone in seven short days, and how much was left, and the painful rehabilitation process.

Then he thought about Mary. The first women to really tame him, to get him to settle down, and look at the world no longer as one giant battlefield. He had loved her with all his heart, and then some. Three years later, he still blamed himself for her death. He had rejoined the IMC just after leaving the hospital, at the urging of his close friend Hoot. The IMC had gotten soft, no wars to fight meant the upper echlon officers hadn't even seen combat. They needed lower grade officers who had been in the shit to train to new wave of recruits. However, he hadn't gone into a training regiment, no. He had gotten back into the ninja game, the old world of special ops. An ICIA leak had alerted a rather angry terrorist group of his location, and a single RPG into the side of a taxi took the one he loved. If he only hadn't insisted on leaving the nation for their fifth year aniversary.

Then his thoughts drifted to Ayana, the young, beautiful girlfriend he currently had. She was an interesting mix, Israeli, but Catholic and not Jewish. That hadn't kept her from serving a breif stint in the Mossad as an analyst, and when she had been recruited by the ICIA, an angry director released her name to one of the many Hammas cells. She contacted the ICIA, told them the situation, and Fortier's Recon-TRACT team had been dispatched for the extract. Whether it had been love or lust at first sight had yet to be answered, but slowly, things were becomming serious between the two.

Fortier piloted the motorcycle expertly, rolling it up the drive way, and parking it next to his newest automotive love. His garage was down to only three cars now, and the bike leveling it at four vehicles. He slipped off, and entered his house into Anna's arms. Life may not have been perfect, but it was good.
___

The sound of plastic vibrating on wood filled the room, followed by a ring tone.

Robert stirred, and nudged Anna, who nudged back. He mumbled something, then swated at his night stand. "Hun, your phone is ringin'," he mumbled grogily.

"Nope, thats not my ringtone. Its yours."

Robert grabbed the phone, and keyed talk.

"Capt. Fortier. This is fourth desk, Divison 5, ICIA. You are to extract to Houston ASAP. We have a flight waiting for you. Low key. No team. That is all."

Click

Fortier stared at the phone for a breif moment, and then pushed himself out of bed.

"Who was that?" Ayana asked, pushing herself up. Robert took a long look at her uncovered torso, and went to the closet.

"D5."

"D5? Special Intell? What they want with a team?"

"Nothing, I'm supposed to go alone. They want me at the base for exfill ASAP." That was one of the bennifits of dating someone who was in the game near as much as you. You didn't need to explain the technical terms. "Hun, wheres my 4.11 vest?"

Just under 24 hours later, the black IAF MC-130I was landing at Houston, in a private aviation wing. The bay door opened, and in a move that was almost anti low key, a 2006 blue Viper SRT-10 hard top roared out from the belly of the beast. His OPORD was sending him to Cain's he barely remebered the location from his last stint in Houston, just before the Player's Run a slight four years earlier. He parked the car in a covered garrage, and hit the key fob, a slight chirp beeping from the alarm. He entered the club, checking the matte black Beretta 92FS, chambered in .40 S&W, at the door.

He found a booth, and dropped into it, Blue Oyster Cult still beating through the club. He waved over a waitress, and ordered a beer, 'anything dark' being the exact order. His OPORD ended at his arrival at Cain's, and he assumed it was one of those nasty TRACT opps, the one that fell under a mix of Counter Terror and Recon, where he would have to meet with some ex-ism of some sort, pump him for information (be it with cash or fist, he would find out later), and then extract.

Seasons Dont Fear the reaper...

"I fucking hate this song," Robert swore, under his breath. At least they had the version with the cow bell in the background, and that was able to elicit a small smile from the Imitoran. And there he sat and waited for whatever it was to happen to do so.

Charli tapped her fingernails in time to the cowbell and leaned back in the booth content now that the first Pina Colada was letting a tiny tingle loose in her veins.

Then she gave a long slow blink as figure she'd never though she'd see again moved past. She, like most others outside of Imitora, had though he was dead, but she sure just hadn't seen a ghost, not even here in Cains.

With a low whoop she surged out of the booth,and intercepted Tanya, the waitress, as she returned with the stein of microbrew dark. "Here let me. I know the guy. I'll make sure he leaves you a great tip "

Striding over to where Fortier had gone to roost Charli slid the stein in front of him as she slid into the bench across from him. "So, Fortier, who are you in town to race?"

He looked different, there was a depth to him that had not been there before the last ever Players Run, but then again she knew that the flaming near fatal experience he survived would do that to a person, even one as armored as he. She was glad to see he survived, she may have bitched about his ego, but kne he'd earned it, and she liked him immensely.

(OOC: Whoa.)

It is an oft-quoted saying that children are the ones who would inherit the world. That they are the foundation on which the future rests, and that they are the bearers of our hope for a better tomorrow. Children are precious beings, for they are the world leaders of days yet to come, and the ones who will carry on our legacy in this world after we have long since passed on. Men have been known to die in order to protect the life of a child, and such men are rightly honored as true men. Heck, one of the most well respected icons of the '80s was none other than Mr. T, that one guy who, in his lunacy, embodied everything that a real man should live up to; don't drink, smoke, lie, or talk back to your momma. And for God's sake, think of the children, or as Mr. T himself so succintly put it, "I pity the fool!"

Yes, children are the future lights of the world. Which is why we place so much emphasis on the proper upbringing, the proper education, for every one of them is untapped potential. We do the best we can to teach our kids the right values, or rather, what we believe to be the right values. Which is why, above all, we take care of them during their formative years. Every last one of them.

Or at least, that would be the case in an ideal world. Unfortunately, the world isn't perfect; as there are children who are raised in good households, there are more out there who suffer in less than desirable situations. Alcholic fathers who abuse their wives, and their kids. Children who become unwilling pawns in messy divorce battles. And then, there are those who had the bad luck of being born in the wrong place, to grow in a tough neighbourhood where they had to grow up fast, or die trying. And that's not counting those abused, raped, killed every year before their time. No, the world isn't an ideal place.

There are people in this world who never had enough time to be children. Scott was one of them.
___________________________________________________________________________________

"Bro, we're not going to make it back, are we?"

They were crouched in the darkness of one of the underground tunnels spanning the area, taking cover from the storm that had hit unexpectedly. Now they were cut off from the warehouse that they had taken shelter under, for the past three months. And they couldn't go back, because the rain was so heavy, they might as well have been swimming back. And besides, with most of the lights shorting out, it had become all but suicidal to attempt a return now. Besides, taking everything into account, where they were now was actually a pretty good shelter in itself. Rows of shophouses, boutiques, restaurants lined these tunnels, but with the hours being what they were, they were all closed. As far as Scott knew, and he wasn't that familiar with this place, they wouldn't have company for a while yet. They would be left in peace here, at least until the partygoers started coming.

Besides, little chance of even that happening. It really was the mother of all blackouts; the only light in the area was the candles his sister had lighted, and which they were both now huddling over. Never to leave his little sister behind, alone and helpless, he had always taken her along to wherever he went, leaving her only long enough, and always close by at hand, while he made his 'runs', as he called it. Some called it crime, but Scott called it necessity; they needed to eat, after all, and he couldn't afford a job; they were laying low until they knew at least that nobody from their town was going to come looking for them here. Until then, he had to get his hands on what money he could get; money to buy food, to buy fuel for their petrol cookers to cook their food on, money for warm clothes, for the occasional times when they could buy a night at a cheap motel, and sleep comfortably for once. And Kristy, bless her heart, couldn't do it; it had to be up to him to provide the both of them what they needed to survive here, in this great big alien city.

Even if he had to resort to underhand means. Like picking other people's pockets. Or barging into unattended homes. Or his new favourite; hotwiring a car and selling it to any of the shady dealers; that can fetch quite a bit, but he was still green at it, and Scott knew better than to push his luck. Besides, right now he had some cash on his hands; later perhaps, when the clubbers began to arrive, he could get his hands on some more, and then he could take Kristy out of here.

"S'alright, sis. You're scared, right? C'mere."

And Kristy crawled over, putting her head on his chest, as she had done ever since their little escapade started. An escapade they never contemplated, much less counted on making, but one they were on, nonetheless. The only source of comfort they could have now, was from each other. Because they were the only family they had left, to each other.

"Go to sleep, Kristy. It's alright. I'll wake ya up when I have to go for a run, then I'll pick you up back here, and we'll get out of here once the rain stops, alright?"

She nodded weakly, already dozing off. With a deep breath, Scott sighed. How did things ever turn out to be like this?

So they waited. Together, alone in the darkness. Waiting for what may come next.

(OOC: Bad post, I'm way over curfew, and yet I couldn't put this off or I'll get left well behind. I'll do better next time. >_< )

Jackie slid the Sagaris past the dark jacketed valets with their diamond bright flashlights and down the curling ramp to the reserved parking spot on the third level down under. Neither of them worried about the underground parking flooding- even when Alicia had hit back in the late ninety's the water in the lowest level had only gotten ankle deep.

The whole structure had been designed by those intent on making it last for all time if possible. Back when the original building had been constructed, in the 1950's, people had thought it was at the governments behest, as a mammoth fall-out shelter. Houston's vampires had been determined that it needed to survive more than a nuclear blast. And so the sump pumps that drained incoming water worked most effeciently, as did every things else.

The emergency lights were dim, but granted enough light for the couple to see by as Jackie came around and opened the door for her, assissting her pout in his gentlemanly manner. He took advantage of the fact that she did not tug her had free from his to hold her hand as they left the parking garage for the underground tunnels. There the emergency lights were fewer and some, Sian noticed with a frown, were out of commission entirely. "I think the city council needs to raise the maintence fund a bit."

"It's still enough to see by" He rumbled reassureingly as he slid his arm about her waist "I'll be your guide dog Lainy."

Sian looked up at him, a smile on her lips, and the faint glow that never left her eyes these days adding to the warmth of her regard of him as she teased him gently "Or is that a guard dog?"

"You know I'd never let anyone harm you, Lainy, never." He spoke with utmost seriousness.

Sian nodded and slid her arm about his waist as they strolled towards Cains.

Ryan was almost certain he was annoying the bartender as he went to the bar to get another glass of water, his fourth since he'd arrived at the nightclub. The majority of bartenders and waitresses counted on tips as a large portion of thier income, and with water being what it was, it was not a great conductor for tipping.

As he took his glass back to his chair, he noticed another had come into the bar, one who looked like a fellow professional. With a shrug, he took his seat. Scowling, he wondered if they had the song on an infinate loop or something as it seemed to be going on forever. If the dang cowbell continued on much longer, he'd be feeling like giving the speaker an injection of lead.

He also noticed a couple wannabe goths, starting for a moment as he thought they were vampires before dismissing it as casual paranoia. He'd run into a few vampire, both as clients and targets, and found that they packed far to much power for thier punch to be lightly ignored. He also hoped the storm would burn itself out soon as whilst stormy weather was good for when he was doing buisness, he disliked it other times.

"HEY", Red yelled as she opened the door to the van that she had ridden in. She had seen Sian get out of the car and opened the door on the passenger side as the side door slid open to allow Godolkin egress. Both were fully equiped and had, therefore, not gone into cain's.

"Sorry, but I wanted to have a word before I left and ask you a favor", she said, glancing around the garage out of habit and sniffing the air as Godolkin was doing.

He had his standard packs. The mini and purifier. The staker he had left in the van and he had forgone the blade since he could summon the paladin's blade at a whim.

Red had her standard favorites, the twin magnum autos, and her red and black outfit with the silver spiked heels.

The van was a different one from the one before, since Harrow hadn't been able to get it to function again. He wasn't with them as they approached Sian and her male companion.

Sherlinda had been held up for almost a day but had finally gotten a flight from Rome to Houston with two lay overs that ate up time. Once the final flight had gotton close they almost got rerouted because of the storm, but due to fuel levels they were one of the last allowed to land before the airport was closed down. Still, luck didn't seem to be on her side. No vehicles were being rented and everyone was being urged to stay at the airport until the storm was over.

But there was always a way .....

"Excuse me sir", she had said to the man who was standing near his car in the parking garage. "My parents were supposed to have met me here somewhere but I'm afraid that I'm a bit lost", she said as she approached him.

He looked at the girl who seemed to be in her mid to late teens and smiled, "I'm sure we can find UHHGG ...."

He had grabbed her shoulders and looked down to see her fist slide from chest to reveal his still beating heart then back up into brown eyes terribly devoid of emotion.

She took his keys, opened his trunk and tossed his body into it. Then she got in, looked over the car, started it and left. But again, it seemed, fate worked against her. An accident, the clearing of which was taking far to long because of the storm stopped her on the highway. She got out, leaving the car and walked the rest of the way.

The shock troopers and taken a private air plane to Caracas Venizuela where they had a helicopter waiting for them. They took the chopper to a ship in the gulf and the ship took them to a point off the shore of Galveston. The chopper had been refueled enroute and once at the proper co-ordinates the chopper was flown from ship toward Houston, coming in below radar level. The storm was an unpleasant surprise, or would have been with anyone who had any kind of emotional abilities, but it was not unsurmountable. Soon they would reach thier target area and they each surveyed the rough blueprints provided. The place was called Cain's and the blasphemy had been seen there. With her, still, was the traitor Godolkin. They're primary objective was to retire the blasphemy. If possible, they would retire the traitor as well.

"HEY",

Sian and Jackie caught the call as the door was swinging shut behind them.

"That sounded like Red" Sian sighed, and urged Jackie back around.

"Red?"

"A...collegue, and one I was supposed to meet with tonight after I talked to Ryan." Sian explained as Jackie caught the barely open door and ushered her back into the garage.i

"Sorry, but I wanted to have a word before I left and ask you a favor",

"Left? You and Godolkin heading out on a job?" Sian frowned at the pair as she took in what they were wearing. She didn't like the thought that they might have gone back to their old ways of hunting the Night Life.

It was far more than just didn't like. If they had returned to that past they'd be dead as soon as she assertained their intent, and these days she had no hesitation at reading any's mind.

Don't Fear the Reaper spun down and the DJ's voice sang out with real delight Now as a small special announcement to one and all...The Mundanes have left the building! So Strange Folk one and all, Night Life abounding, come on it's time to get au natural!

Unremarked by those unaffected, the Mundanes had been gently, unnoticeably suggested to elsewhere, leaving Cains solely in the possession of that which most didn't believe in.

Charli whooped, pumped a fist skyward, and gave Fortier a conspiratorial grin. "Always figured you for Night Life."

All around them more whoops,cheers and wild clapping arose as many of the Strange Folk threw off their glammors and 'public' appearances.

but before we can get to the real down and dirty we have a request to assisst in a status challenge. It's going to be as you might suspect since I'm announcing it here, instead of beating feet down to the arena, that it's not any thing resembling life or death, though...

So, Fortier, who are you in town to race?

Fortier looked up at Charli, and nodded as she slid into the booth. He shrugged after greeting her, accepting the beer.

"No one. Not right now at least. I'm on OPORD, think I'm supposed to be meeting someone, but I have no clue. Military intell and all. Tell me where to go and what to bring, but not what I'm supposed to be doing. Leave that to D5."

He listened to the music change, and rolled his eyes as the DJ made the call.

Now as a small special announcement to one and all...The Mundanes have left the building! So Strange Folk one and all, Night Life abounding, come on it's time to get au natural!

Robert sighed and looked at the dance floor. "Ya know, you wonder why people go after ya'll. Its like the words low key just get tossed out the window for the most part. But hell, who am I to talk, I have a fucking Dodge Viper in the parking garage."

Always figured you for Night Life.

Robert laughed. "Me? Hell no. I'm no mutant or vamp or were or whatever. In the words of the famous Hellbilly, I'm just a little more human than human," he smiled, offering a grin and quoting one of his favorite songs.

But before we can get to the real down and dirty we have a request to assisst in a status challenge. It's going to be as you might suspect since I'm announcing it here, instead of beating feet down to the arena, that it's not any thing resembling life or death, though.

"Hmm, this oughta be interesting," Robert commented, looking out over the dance floor.

"Ya know, you wonder why people go after ya'll. Its like the words low key just get tossed out the window for the most part. But hell, who am I to talk, I have a fucking Dodge Viper in the parking garage."


"We spend ninty nine percent of our lives in hiding Fortier. And every once in a while we have to break loose. There's no one here that doesn't already know about, and accept or they would have left. Cain's hires the best to make sure that every once in awhile we get a little privacy." Charli commented.

I'm just a little more human than human,"

"No problem there, and Night Life isn't just us Strange Folk, there are a fair number of straight up humans who are part of the Night Life." She grinned.

"Hmm, this oughta be interesting,"

"Oh yeah! and maybe the vamps will do some line dancing later." She laughed whole heartedly at his expression. "Oh it's a treat, what with their reflexes and agility." She sounded ever so faintly envious.

Sian relaxed a little as her probe of Durham red's mind showed her that the pair had not returned to their old ways. No they were merely moving on, Red's impatience and low boredom threshold spurring her decission.

The faint glow about Sian faded, sinking back into her flesh. She cocked her head at the pairs weapondry.

"You know that has to be uncomfortable to wear while you're riding in a vehicle." She cocked her head at the backpack style weapons canisters the ex Iconoclast Storm Trooper wore. Then she remembered her manners, as Jackie shifted slightly behind her.

"Red, Godolkin, this is Jackie Santini, an old friend. Jackie, this is Durham Red, and Godollin." She introduced them to each other. "Look when you contacted me earlier, you said you needed to talk. Why don't you put the firpower away and come on into Cains. We can talk in one of the private rooms, if it needs to be secure." She offered.

"Here, this may make things more comfortable for you." The young waitress smilled as she brought over a pitcher of ice water to where Ryan Forrest sat. "Would you care for some popcorn, they just made a fresh batch, or some tengu tanuits?"

The quiet man hadn't left so obviously he was one of the NIght Life, and he wasn't too out of the ordinary. Many of the Strange Folk were unsocialable but wanted to be around others. And good tipper or not he deserved the same good service as every one else.

"Oh my! A status challenge" She grinned as she heard the DJ announce the challenge. "That will be something to see. I wonder who just came of age." She spoke half to herself but Ryan could hera her clearly.

I wonder when it was that Kristy began to need me so much?

She was not sleeping, and yet it appeared so as she lay her small head on his chest. In the dim light, she looked to be but a child, and yet even so, she was beautiful. Definitely beautiful. He could never understand why anyone would want to hurt a delicate little thing like his little sister. Well, whoever it was had tried to force her into the horrific act three months ago didn't succeed, and never would; he had make sure of that when he had sent the would-be rapist's broken body right out of the alley, totalling a car which had the misfortune of being in the way. The repercussions of that act had stayed with them to this day, though; it all began from there. If he had never targeted Kristy in the first place, Scott would never have known he could summon such unearthly strength. Nor that he seemed to be not fully human, what with the curse that had been his unexplained strength. Nor that Kristy didn't seem to be fully human either. Until the, the question was,

What are we? What in the world are we?

No answer to that question, as yet. All Scott knew was that whatever they were, they were still two kids in a big, bad world. They would not survive long if they stayed the way they had been; no matter what they were, the fact was that they were brought up as farm children, who knew precious little about the world outside of their little town. And bereft of experience in the outside world, fate had dealt them a hand they did not expect; they would have to learn how to survive on their own, even before they were of age. And Kristy was only fourteen, far too young to adapt to her new life without help of some kind, or worse, being taken advantage of by others. It fell to him to become the adult; to be the one who would learn how to take care of the both of them, by whatever means.

First, he'll worry about where the next meal is going to come from. The bigger questions can come later.

"Kristy, wake up."

"Hmm?"

She wasn't asleep, but she sounded like she was close to dozing off as she sat up. As she rubbed her eyes, Scott could not help but sigh. Kristy had been such a lively, vivacious girl, but even though she had escaped unharmed from her ordeal, she was not wholly untouched; even now, she spoke little, and he knew that she was still recovering from the shock of nearly having been violated, as well as realizing that she was......different, from other people. Just like himself. He could live with it, but it was clear she was still struggling to accept that part of herself. That part of herself which was unexplained, which was.......more than human. Whatever she was. Whatever the both of them were.

God, she's only fourteen. She shouldn't have had to see the things she has.

The fact that there are people out there who would hurt her more than she could contemplate. The fact that there are people out there who would lynch someone for being different. The fact that here, in the bowels of the city, there are people who would resort to all manner of depravity just to survive. For himself, Scott had made sure to stay away from the worst of these acts, limiting himself only to petty thievery to feed both of them. Yet, Kristy had seen them all in the past few months, and he knew that all of those experiences had scarred her deep inside. She couldn't cope with what she had been seeing, much less fend for herself. That was why Scott knew one thing; no matter what happened, he could never leave Kristy behind. She was his only family left.

"C'mon, sis. Pack up, we're going somewhere."

"Oh, alright....."

Even now, Kristy barely spoke, and she was still scared to death of strangers. But one thing it has done was to make their bond as siblings closer; she now trusted him fully, and no matter what he told her to do, she obeyed without question. And even though she didn't speak much anymore, Scott knew that deep inside this girl, who was too scared of the world to open up to it, was still the same little girl whom he knew as his beloved little sister. Even now, she stood up and began to help him pick up the things they had spread all over the floor without question, trusting in him silently.

For his part, Scott didn't exactly know where to go, or what to do next. However, he did have an idea.

"Okay, sis, I'm gonna go make a run. Heard there's a club around here somewhere, and it's about the right time for plenty of folks. You know what to do?"

"Erm, yeah.......I just wait where you tell me to wait, and don't let anyone see me, right?"

"Yeah, that's right. I think it's called Cains or something, but no matter. Here, let's go."

___________________________________________________________________________

For some reason, a significant number of people seemed to be leaving Cains at the same time. Scott didn't know why exactly they were leaving, but it didn't matter. As long as there was a crowd, and as long as they were more or less drunk, it made for easy pickings for him.

"Ooof, sorry......"

One drunken lug in a group of drunken lugs passed him by, all of them laughing and staggering as they headed to their next destination. Saying nothing, Scott looked on as they rounded a corner, and disappeared. Only then did he smile, as he took out his prize; the drunken lug's wallet, which also happened to contain a set of car keys.

"Nice......hmmm, what's this? Toyota? Probably ain't worth much, but I guess I can still sell it......"

Of course, Scott would learn how wrong he was about the worth of the car soon enough.

The rain had never bothered Loki, at least not since he'd 'awoken' from the life of a mundane and entered the Night Life. That one night, twelve years ago was still fresh in his memory. Whilst he hadn't actually been awake for the fire, he'd been dreaming of it, dreaming of the way those flames danced, how they licked at other objects as if testing their flavour.

Fire would always be a thing of darkness in Loki's eyes. He knew of the danger and hardships his parents had faced back in Ireland, and of the joy they experienced for twenty years in Australia. That was all gone now because of him though, all because of fire and it's intoxicating dance of death.

Wrenching his attention back to the present, Loki gazed out the window from the vaguely lit foyer of the Armand Hotel before being guided by a staff member through the Casino and finally into a club he called Cain's. It appeared to be the only well lit building in the area and so Loki decided to hang around for a while. He used to visit places like this all the time in his younger days, indulging in excess alcohol and the desires of young males.

By all appearances this place looked like somewhere he would have frequented back then, classy and enjoyable. Heading up to the main level via the cylindrical elevators, Loki took in the sight before him. The bar, the dance floor and the other facilities placed within the club.

It had been almost five years since Loki had decided to leave Australia and see the world a little. So far he'd been through part of Asia and spent a lot of time in Europe before finally moving onto America. He'd beem in the US for almost a year, enjoying life in Washington DC, Los Angeles and the coast of Florida.

Several Americans he'd met throughout his time had suggested visting Texas and so here he was, sitting at the bar of a club within Housten whilst an abnormal amount of rain spewed forth from the sky, drenching the capital city.

Grabbing the bar tender's attention, Loki requested a glass of chilled vodka before spinning around upon his seat to view the dance floor, watching as 'Status Challenge' was declared, whatever that was.

Accepting his glass with a nod and smile, Loki took a mouthful and sat back to watch, mildly curious as to what was about to happen.

Ryan had had a bit of a knee-jerk reaction when he heard talk of mundanes, strange folks and night life. A portion of the hell-hole that had been his adolescence had been devoted to tactics to seek out, combat and exterminate them. It had been a close thing to keep the pistol in his holster from becoming the pistol in his hand.

"Thank you." He replied in words that did not come easily, nor naturally to his lips. "If you don't mind me asking, what is a status challenge and what are tengu tanuits?"

He wondered what aspect of the night life world the waitress came from as he waited for her answer.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is a status challenge and what are tengu tanuits?"


"Oh a status challenge means that some one feels they've come of age and have to prove it by showing off their control. If they're doing it up here, that means some ones going to dance," The waitress burbled happily, unaware of how close Ryan was to violence. "Or something else showy. Might be a display of sorcery, though I haven't heard of any apprentices or journeymen close to ringing the bells so to speak"

She nodded to herself as mentally she ticked off those she knew, then shook her head "No I think it's got to be one of the Changing Folk, I know that several think they are in control enough."

"Oh not to get out of control, but to do the partial shifts" She reassured him hurriedly.

"Tengu Tanuits are our version of trail mix. Sesame sticks, wasabi dried peas, mint chocolate M&M's, mini marshmallows, salted plums, venison jerky, dried pineapple, pretzel pieces, and Chex mix. Tanuit came up with the recipe and he's a Tengu, so we named it after him."

Ryan raised an eyebrow at her explaination. It seemed whatever long dead bastard had been responsible for gathering info on these Night Lifer races, had left out large portions, or never knew them to begin with. While still on edge, he relaxed slightly. If Changing Folk translated to Were as he thought it did, he wasn't as worried as they tended not to try and leech people dry or mess with thier heads, they just tried to gut you.

Listening to her talk about food, made him realize he hadn't eaten anything but field goo for a while, and while it was edible, wasn't the most palpatable food stuff. "That sound like it's worth trying." He commented as he was already mentally picking out the pineapple, plums and peas. "Are Weres and Changing Folk one and the same?"

Red looked at thier gear, not noting anything particularly out of the ordinary, for them at least.

"Yeah, well, you know, have to watch out for my skin", she replied. She was lying, however. Her first thought was of Harrow. He was happy for once and she wanted him to stay that way, so she figured the farther away she was from him the better and Canada had crossed her mind. Her second thought was for the people around her. The innocent who might be hurt if she was found here and terrible sense of personal responsibility she would feel if that were to happen. She wished she could secret Godolkin somewhere too. He had a chance, now, at something normal, but a traitor to Tamerlane wouldn't be forgotten. Her self interest was a front. A way of trying to push people away so all she had to care about was herself.

"The favor I wanted to ask was to keep an eye on Harrow. He likes April and he loves his job at the hospital. I'd rather have stay here now that he has something worth staying put for."

Both Red and Godolkin greeted Jackie politely and Red's eyes ran over him then she winked at Sian. "I'll let you go ahhh, enjoy yourself", she told her and grinned.

That sound like it's worth trying."

"Oh and I almost forgot, we now serve cheese steak sandwiches again. We stopped for a while but they got so requested that we brought them back." Tanya replied to Ryan's request for some of the nibble food.

"Are Weres and Changing Folk one and the same?"

Tanya gave him a look, but was somewhat used to out of towners being insular and not as knowledgeable as locals. "Not all of the Changing Folk are Weres, and we generally lump Lycans and Rodius in with them." She shivered visably. "But the Council keeps most of those down and under by six feet. Their taste for human flesh makes too much of a Mess, and thats never good."

The virally infected Lycans and Rodius were what had given the Changing Folk as a whole their bad reputation. Mundanes never knew that there was more than one type, or that born 'natural' Weres and Shifters never ate people. Well the sane ones didn't and few of the Changing Folk ever went insane, and those rare one that did were hunted and disposed of by their own kind, for the safety of all.

Red stop lieing to yourself. Careing may get you hurt but it's better than becoming inhuman. Sian's voice was tart but compassionate as it sounded in Red's mind. You're running from yourself -again. You have to stop some time. Why not do it where there are those who wish you well. And no guff about danger. Our kind is born into it and will die in it. She told Red in the privacy of their mental communication, and the last was brutally candid.

The favor I wanted to ask was to keep an eye on Harrow. He likes April and he loves his job at the hospital. I'd rather have stay here now that he has something worth staying put for."


She grinned ever so faintly at Red's look at Jackie and wink. She knew how handsome Jackie was and how the ladies responded to his unabashed maleness - that and the whiff of danger that hovered around him like a distant crackle of lightning.

"I'll watch over Harrow, he's good people and invaluable at the Hospital. I know that April would be heartbroken if he left." Sian agreed aloud. "Look leave the hardware" She gestured at Godolkin's main weapons, toss coats on over the rest and come on into the club with us."

Jackie returned the nods, and let Red's once over roll off of him. She was a good looking woman- he'd always appreciate women and acknowledge their once undeniable appeal to him. But Lainy was the one he wanted, the one he'd lied to himself about for so long. It amazed him how just sitting in the same room with her, each about their own interests, was restful yet rejuvenating for him. And Lainy was interesting to him in a way that no woman ever had been before.

Oh it's a treat, what with their reflexes and agility."

"Yeah, I guess thats one of the trade offs. Your dead, but you can dance well." Robert chuckled as he looked around. He held a sort of respect for the undead, even though in every encouter he had met them with, he had barely walked away from. Iansisle, Larkina, and here, he had taken on the undead, and walked away. Barely, but was able to in the end.

"Of course, everyone has their own thing. Some people come of age with a fight. Some dance. Me? I got drunk and laid. Woke up the next morning with a hang over that could stop a charging rhino, mysteriously in the hole about five hundred bucks, and lost somewhere in the southern part of Tuskola, about four hours north of Northampton. That was a fun night. I think."

He looked around, and then back at Charli. "So, any idea of what I'm doing here?"

Red glanced at Godolkin who shrugged. He was suppressing emotions himself, letting them in a bit at a time since more than that was just confusing.

"Alright", Red replied and Godolkin removed the mini-gun and purifier. The staker was still bagged and he tossed that in too, leaving him, seemingly, with nothing. Red grabbed a coat, putting it on and leaving her guns on.

Godokin locked up the van and carried the keys.

"Here I'll put em in my pocket", Red told him.

"No."

"Come on, what trouble can I get into in the club?"

If we need to leave we may need to do it quickly", he replied.

"So I'll drive."

He looked at her, "I want to get there in one piece. Where ever 'there' might be."

"You sayin you don't trust my drivin?" she asked him.

"Yes", he replied simply in his barrel chested voice. Images flashed through his mind of a wide sidewalk, down which Red was doing about 90 and plowing through anything in the way, at least until the car couldn't handle it anymore.

Red didn't reply to Sian's mental conversation. She wasn't used to caring about anyone but herself. Insofar as actually liking them.

Another suitcase, another door...

The words of an old song echoed in Aliana's head. She couldn't remember where she'd heard them, but they seemed strangely appropriate as she swiped her keycard through the lock on her hotel room door and slipped inside, her travel bag over one shoulder.

The room was small and perfunctory: a bed, the tiniest bathroom imaginable, and a coffee machine. Aliana hated coffee. After a long, hot shower- she'd intentionally chosen one of the few bulidings with power-the elf dressed the way she liked to on her rare nights out-dressy dark green tank-top, black miniskirt, heels, and a black leather jacket.

The ensemble was a bit revealing- because a girl gets better service and free drinks that way- and the razor-sharp daggers hidden at her waist ensured that anyone who got the wrong impression from her attire changed their mind very quickly.

All dressed up and nowhere to go... Aliana sighed as she flipped uninterestedly through one of the guidebooks that the hotel had so convieniently placed on the night table. I suppose I'll just wander. Again.

Ten minutes later Aliana was thoroughly lost and had reaffirmed her belief that elves were not made to live in the city. "Why do I put myself through this?", the elf wondered aloud. It was a question she'd asked herself thousands of times. The problem was, she didn't know the answer. For as long as she could remember- and for an elf, that's a very long time- she'd had a desire to wander, to go wherever fate led her. She'd resisted it for as long as she could, but with each passing year it grew stronger. Finally she succumbed, leaving behind friends, family, and a promising career.

And where has it gotten me? I'm hungry, I'm cold, I'm lost, and... Suddenly Aliana sensed something familiar, something she immediately recognized as a large gathering of Strange Folk- the minds of the Night Life always "felt" completely different from the minds of Mundanes. Like a bloodhound on a trail, Aliana followed the trail.

Less than twenty minutes later, she was sitting comfortably at a back table in Cain's, her back to the wall, her eyes scanning the room. She sipped her drink- a Captain Morgan's and Coke- and watched the people. Perhaps tonight she would finally find something to intrigue her. Perhaps not.

He shook his head, "No thank you, cheese and meat to not go well together, I'll just try the trail mix." He replied as he actually looked at the waitress for the first time, wondering if she was simply aiming for a tip or had another motive behind her actions.

He caught her shiver at the mention of Lycan and Rodius. Hearing that they were different than Were were was confusing. Those terms had been used interchangable in his 'beasties' encyclopedia. "I do not wish to seem rude or offensive, but what is the difference between a Lycan, a Rodius, and a Were?
Also what is the Council you mentioned?" He asked before taking a drink of water.

"So, any idea of what I'm doing here?"

Charli gave Fortier a baffeled look "Here to race some one, find a friend... or do what ever OPORD stands for as in having to do with military intel and something or one called D5. That sounds aweful John Clarkish to me."

She shook her head and shrugged "I stay away from things governmental. Mom spent her life hding and she kinda impressed it into me." Charli looked around the club and added "This is the only place I've ever felt safe enough to let my hair down and talk about it in anything one might consider public."

"just relax Fortier, I'm sure why ever your here will happen when it's supposed to , and if it will make you feel better, after the challenge I'll vouch for you down below and we can practise up at the lanes."

****************

One of the bartenders slid a pair of bowls filled with fresh hot popcorn and tanuki tanuits next to Loki's elbow and once he'd caught his eye nodded toward the chalk board.

"We have Philly cheese steak sandwiches back on the menu and our steak-on-a-stick tonight is vennison." The slender ebony skinned mixologist advised, trying to be helpful to a patron he'd never seen before.

**************************

Ali had a good view of the stage as the lights slowly dimmed. One of the waitresses hurried over with a tray filled with bowls of hot popcorn and tanuki tanuits.

She set one of each on the table and asked in a whisper "Ma'am, would you like a refil or something to eat? We have a small menu, but it's good food." She'd never seen the tall slender Sidhe in Cains before and wanted to make sure the new comer wasn't wanting for anything.

************************

"I do not wish to seem rude or offensive, but what is the difference between a Lycan, a Rodius, and a Were? Also what is the Council you mentioned?"

"Let me get you some tanuits and I'll take a short break to fill you in." She offered.

She hurried over to the bar, for already the lights were beginning to dim. In moments she was back with a large bowl filled with the homemade trail mix and set them on the table.

"That would be appreciated." He replied as she headed to the bar. When she returned, he added, "Thank you, now about the explaination..."

The information would be useful, and he would naturally 'pay' for it, through the medium of a generous tip.

This is being held for a major post...

And finally the nightclub known as Cain's was in sight. Definitely, it seemed like the real fun was under way now from how it sounded inside, although the one thing that caught Scott's attention was the fact that there actually seemed to be relatively few people seeking entrance at this time. Oh, of course there were a few, but compared to other clubs he had seen over his time here, the numbers seemed quite underwhelming by comparison. An exclusive club? It wouldn't surprise him, but nowadays very few things surprised Scott anymore. He had long since accepted that the city was a whole different beast from what he had grown up with, and anything new that he happened to come across, he knew now to just take it at face value. The city has many secrets, and it's no use to spend too much time gawking at each and every one that popped up in front of his eyes.

After all, he was keeping a potentially combustible secret himself. One that only Kristy shared in, as far as he knew.

With a nice wad of cash in hand, as well as a car waiting to be sold, Scott was ready to call it a night and take Kristy away from here. After all, that drunken lug was bound to realize something was missing sooner or later, and before the said lug did, he had to be high and dry before then. Of course, high and dry was exactly the opposite of his situation now; underground, and the rain was still pelting down above. Besides, the lug had looked really, REALLY drunk when he had bumped into him, so Scott figured he still had plenty of time left.

Plenty enough time to find just which Toyota this key operated, drive off with Kristy in it, then find one of the shady dealers he had made contact with in the past. One of those whom he can sell the car to at a "discount" (which mattered none to Scott himself anyway), with the serial numbers of the car's engine sheared off, and the car packed off to somewhere else in the world. No questions asked, no lies told. Perfect, when one is in hiding and needed just a little bit more cash to use for the next week or two.

Mentally, Scott made note of the location of Cain's. It seemed like the club had an exclusive clientele as far as he could tell, and that meant for every 'run' he made, he could expect to loot quite a bit of moolah each time. That had been his strategy for a while now, to hang around at a certain place for a few days, steal as much as he can, and once the local authorities start picking up a whiff, he'll scoot for some other place. So far, it's worked well, and he and Kristy could afford just a bit more these days.

They were approaching the entrance to the parking garage, and Scott led Kristy by the hand to a corner, letting her hand go. She looked up at him, waiting expectantly for him to tell her what to do next. Even if he had told her more or less the same things all this time.

"Kristy, wait here."

"Oh......alright."

She looked on silently as her brother walked off, entering the parking garage. Leaving her behind. But it couldn't be helped. She waited because Brother said so.

____________________________________________________________________________

"Now to see just which Toyota we're talking about here......", Scott mumbled to himself, fiddling with the keys in his pocket. Considering the exclusive clientele here, he figured that a Toyota would probably stand out amidst the more expensive sports cars he was bound to find. Not that he had been in this particular parking garage before, but that was what he figured. Of course, if he was wrong, he'd be wasting a lot of time trying out every Toyota he could find in this garage tonight........

Damned, he thought.

But just as he stepped out of the entrance, he saw four people gathered around, seemingly on the verge of going where he had come out from. Two couples. One a fairly normal-looking lady, in the company of a man who just screamed danger; what was it about bad boys that the ladies just loved? Scott didn't know, nor did he care to know. The other couple, a woman with brilliant scarlet hair and a decidedly bitchy face, in his opinion; the man a veritable mountain of muscle, probably one of those muscle-minded tank-brained jocks he had seen far too many times in the past. (OOC: Yes it's Sian, Jackie, Red and Godolkin respectively. ;) )Not a good thing to make assumptions out of first impressions, Mama always said. But Mama's not here, and he wasn't quite interested in them as people. What he was interested in, though, was what he could possibly pilfer from them, since they were conveniently in his chosen path anywhere.

The queen bitch and the gorilla were still near their van, and it would look very suspicious indeed if he tried to make a pass at them. The other couple though, the lady and the bad boy, those two were out in the open. And most of the time it was the man who had the keys. Faking drunkenness, Scott pulled a half-full beer bottle out of his biker jacket; he wasn't much of a drinker as yet, but it made for a great disguise, particularly when you wanted to look like a drunk. Staggering from side to side, the boy approached the pair in the open.......

Knock

"Ooof, shhhhorreee......", the boy mumbled drunkenly, staggering away as he appeared to take another swig out of the bottle in his hand. The other hand was in his jacket, out of sight. If only they handed out Oscars for these kind of performances, Scott would have had a storeroom full of the little golden men by now. Not that they would be worth much.

Staggering away, he began to wonder just what it was he had managed to lift from the bad boy's pocket. His wallet, perhaps? Or maybe he's gotten lucky tonight, lucky enough to score another car......

Just relax Fortier, I'm sure why ever your here will happen when it's supposed to , and if it will make you feel better, after the challenge I'll vouch for you down below and we can practise up at the lanes.

"What can I say? I don't do relax. I'm just trying to figure out why Special Intell would send a grunt to a bar full mutants and vampires and werewolves, when that is the territory of D7, and grunts like me only get calls from D3. Hell, the caller wasn't even my old handler. And the drop in wasn't handled with the 656th Special Air Operations, it was all contracted privately. Hell, the even let me take my own car, not some company shit box. Its all bad java, and I've been in enough situations where bad jave leads to people getting shot.

He shrugged again, and took another pull on the dark beer. "What can I say, I like to make sure I don't get shot. Same goes for all the people around me. I try not to get others killed, at least the ones that don't deserve it. But I'll take you up on that lanes offer. Show you Americans how to really shoot!"

Staggering away, he began to wonder just what it was he had managed to lift from the bad boy's pocket. His wallet, perhaps? Or maybe he's gotten lucky tonight, lucky enough to score another car......

He staggered two steps before he found his body no longer obeyed him, was infact turning back around and walking calmly - while inside he screamed?- back toward the pair he'd just tried to pickpocket.

and the lady looked most displeased and suddenly not so normal or harmless at all...

You shouldn't think so loud Came the remote, coolly angry voice in his mind. And you mother DID teach you better than that, and she'd be dead ashamed to see what you've let yourself become. Leaving your sister like that while you go thieve!

"Jackie, you are quiet right he did pick your pocket" Sian commented wryly as she read his thoughts as well. She wouldn't mention how Scott had mentally imaged Red and Godolkin. Red'd have him for a snack fro his mental rudeness, and Sian wouldn't really blame her.

Jakie was turning a cold eye on the young thief as well, as one hand slid to check his throwaway wallet - not that he kept anything important there. He'd grown up around master picks that made the skinny teen - that Lainy had taken over and was walking back to them - look like little more than a back alley wanna be. No, anything of value was kept in a wallet that rested in a specially tailored pocket high and inside his custom fitted Italian suit. Near the custom fitted shoulder rig, that the properly made suit gave no hint of.

Red grinned at the man who, assuming he had picked Jackie's pocket, certainly wasn't walking back on his own, that approached them. She wasn't trying to be intimidating, but her fangs, unlike many vampire's, simply didn't retract and she looked more like a feral vampire than a grinning woman.

"Don't teeps suck?" she asked him, using the street slang for telepaths.

Godolkin simply stood, frowning, his massive arms folded as he looked at the young man.

Well, I'll be damned.

Surprisingly enough, Scott felt rather less fear than he thought would have been the case, at his body rebelling against him. Oh, of course it was not as if he was looking calmly at the whole proceedings, of course he felt quite discomfited by the fact. However, he didn't feel himself quite freaking out yet, as he raised his brown eyes to lock onto the lady's. Maybe the freak-out would come later on, but presently, what was on his mind was that,

Mmmm.......strange, it's almost similar to what I felt with Kristy, in a way.......

"Look, lady, I ain't got much choice here. Got my own reasons to stay low, y'know?", Scott breathed through gritted teeth (OOC: I'm assuming he can still talk, if not, just take it as what he's thinking instead of saying), staring balefully on the lady.

"Don't teeps suck?"

"Dunno what you're talking about, woman", Scott breathed, although the fangs discomfited him even more. Just what was he dealing with here? Not to mention the gorilla looked ready to pound him to a human pancake there and then; now all he wanted was to get away. "Jeez, you got your stuff back, now let me go already!"

As he shifted vainly, trying to break free from her mental grip, Scott felt something stirring with him. And to his horror, it was the same thing stirring within him a few months ago. When he killed three townspeople through pure accident.

The Bull was bellowing. It was demanding to be released.

"Dunno what you're talking about, woman",

And Sian loosened most of her hold on his body, letting him try on his own to control himself, as powers stirred with in him. It was not a power she had encountered before and was still nascent, new growing, potential unfilled.

"And a "teeps" is a telepath. Though it's not a very nice one" Sian gave Red a look.

gently, gently now she let calm flood her mental tones, but made it an offering of aid rather than control.

"Yes, I know how it is but I also know you shouldn't leave your sister to fend for herself, even a short time as you do." She acknowledged that he was trying to do his best, but also that it was less than ideal...and made him an offer, aloud, so that it had witnesses. The wallet he'd lifted was telekensised from his grasp, and floated over to Jackie, with whom she had a brief conversation. He sighed, frowned and then nodded with a wry smile.

"Your name is Scott, and your sister's is Kristy" It was a statement not a question. "You both have abilities you don't understand, don't know how to use effectively, and are more than half afraid of. You don't know me from Adam, and you have no reason to trust me." She released all controll back over to himself, the faint glow about her fading once again.

Sian leaned back against the van and regarded Scott compassionately. "However I'm going to make you an offer. You and Kristy come live with me, I'll be your guardian until you, then she come of age. I'll feed you, clothe you, get you in a school with others like you, and help you learn to use your powers. I can't change your pasts, but I can help make ya'lls futures better."

oh, you might want to have your speakers on for this...

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(`'•.¸(`'•.¸-:¦:-¸.•'´)¸.•'´)

«´¨`•. Challenge (http://www.atddm.com/challenge.htm) .•´¨`»

(¸.•'´(¸.•'´-:¦:-`'•.¸)`'•.¸)

"We have Philly cheese steak sandwiches back on the menu and our steak-on-a-stick tonight is vennison."

Looking between the two bowls and the chalk board, Loki nodded. As if on que, his stomach grumbled lightly, reminding him he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and a good steak sandwich would go down well with his digestive system.

"Sure, I'll have a steak sandwich and another vodka."

Despite bad memories and the dark thoughts that may be present within Loki's mind, he did a rather good job of presenting himself in an easy going and likable manner, going to an effort to make sure none saw inside of him. The idea of letting someone else close to him was almost unbearable, the fear of them being engulfed by relentless flames, too great.

Shifting his gaze towards the stage, Loki turned back to the man before him.

"So what exactly is going on here?"

"So what exactly is going on here?"

The bartended looked back at Loki, still dazed "Oh man, that was just...spectacular! She must have been practising that for months. Her Alpha is going to have to put her in a cell to keep the men away. She just declared that she is...woah" He shook his head "That is one hot to trot young lady, and the man she choses will be one lucky man!"

He straightened and seemed to remember that Loki had just mentioned the Philly and a fresh vodka. He sent in the order and poured Loki a fresh drink.

"Here ya go the steak will be out in just a minute."

Fortier watched the dance, more than slightly intrigued. He nodded his own little nod of approval, the special forces nod, short and sweet, and turned back to the beer. A long pull, and it was empty. It would only take one tonight, keep himself on his feet, although he rarely lost battles to booze. In times of peace, there are two things a soldier can do: train and drink. And he did both to excess on many occasions.

"Nifty," was the simple response to the dance. He was not easily impressed, but the dance had done a good job of doing so. When he was impressed, getting the nod was amazing. Getting the nod plus a compliment, be it one word or a group of such, was akin to wining the lottery.

He palced the beer bottle on the edge of the table with a ten dollar bill underneath it, telling the waitress to keep the change when she came by. He looked out over the dance floor, watching the cougar play with the dress. "So, enough about me and my boring life. How are things treating you?"

"So, enough about me and my boring life. How are things treating you?"

"Your life boring? I sincerely doubt that. Mine's going the usual, jumping into fires every chance I get," Charli smiled as she spoke of her itenerant travels as a freelance wild land firefighter - a 'smoke jumper' as the teams that parachuted into the hot spots of a wilderness fire were named. "dealing cards at the Overlook Casino as a relief dealer, doing a little bounty hunting on the side, "

She looked over at the young Were leaving the floor surrounded by admirerers and potential mates. "wondering if there is any sort of 'Mr. Right' out there."

Charli shrugged philosophically - she knew that her particular Gift made others wary of her, and figured years ago that she'd go through life solo -and stood. "Lets go shoot holes in things."

Leading the way to the back elevator they were quickly down in the lower level. "You'll see that they stock at least one of everything on the market and a few custom wierdnesses - and the lanes can handle any non explosive round. Th backstops are battle ship armor I'm told." Charli mentioned as she wandered along the display racks looking for the piece she favored.

Your life boring? I sincerely doubt that.

"Well, you can only take down so many rooms for practice before it just gets old. And I've become a marked target. I've never finished an enduracne race in Imitora, yet people still want to race me because I have a fast car. Its getting real old."

He listened intenly has Charli explined fire jumping, and gave her credit. It was one of those odd and off things. He had no problem fast roping or hopping of a MH in a hot zone. He always had an inate dislike of flying, fear wasnt the right word, and hence forth, like many people, found something intrensicilly wrong about jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft. Doing so into a fire was absolutely out of the question.

Lets go shoot holes in things.

"I'm with ya there, just hold up a sec." Fortier moved to the front of the club, pointed out Charli, and his weapon was slid back across to him from the check. He stuffed the Mossad style holster into his pants, the clip holding it nicely in place, and let his red polo fall back over his jeans, covering the weapon. He pocketed the two extra mags, and followed Charli to the firing range.

The lanes can handle any non explosive round. The backstops are battle ship armor I'm told.

"Damn, of all the days to not bring along my anti shipping missile system to test it out," he joked, and clicked the safty off of the Berretta, pulling it from the holster. He noticed a number of other weapons he would want to try out, and selected a lane, he squeezed the pistol a few times, making sure the Crimson Trace grip was working properly, and set the target out for ten feet.

He squeezed of a quick double tap, the first round hitting just below the bullseye by a quarter of an inch, the second round up and to the right, in the five ring. "Damn," he swore to himself. "I'm off. Been to long since I've fired something this light."

"Damn, of all the days to not bring along my anti shipping missile system to test it out,"

Charli laughed at that as they stepped into the lanes and adjusted her 'Wolf Ears'. The electronicly selective hearing protection would stop the sonic thunder of the rounds going off but allow her to hear conversation.

Sending her target out to twenty feet, she twitched her nose a couple of times, the acrid smell of Fortier's rounds making it tingle Then the small Walther PPK in .32 she'd chosen was barely cleareing the holster when the trigger was smoothly pulled back and Charlie was making a snap shot. Four rounds zinged forth as she let the easily managed recoil walk her slightly up the target. All four were in a neat line barely an inch seperating each, two above and two just below the X that maked the mythical C.O.M. of the human shape.

"Damn who's giving me the good luck?" Charlie toggled the switch that brought the target in and looked at it with an amazed shake of her head.

Loki was beginning to understand as he listened to the bartender's scrambled sentence and watched the expression of the crowd. It appeared this whole dance was some right of passage, proof to the Night Life that this shape shifter was in control of her abilities and could stand amongst them, confident in her own abilities.

"Here ya go the steak will be out in just a minute."

Loki nodded in thanks, taking another sip of his chilled vodka. His brief time in Ukraine had given him an almost addictive taste for vodka to the point where it was almost the only spirit he drank. Of course, being Australian with Irish heritage meant he couldn't turn down a good beer either.

"So, do you get a lot of these status challenges occur a lot here?"

Whilst Loki had been part of the 'Night Life' for many years, he rarely frequented places specifically for those like him and wasn't too familiar with the customs and habits of such places or the people that dwelled within.

Tanya had watched the challenge dance with wide eyes, not bothering to answer Ryan's questions until it was finished, then she sighed deeeply.

"Oh that makes me wish I was a Were!" Envy filling her eyes as she shook her head to clear it. "Lycan and Rodius are infected, the virus you know, and nasty buggers they are, with their eating people and making Messes that we have to bring in specialists to clean up. Why a natual Were would never think of eating some one...well I've heard that some of the clans eat their dead as a respect thing, like Heinlin's Valentine Michael Smith Martain think ya know?" She said rather half to herself the looked at Ryan Forrest to see if he was following her.

"And the Council? They are the glue that holds us together ya might say. It's far better here than any where else. Why I've heard all sorts of horror stories and pretty much believe them...." Tanya chattered on telling him every thing she knew, heard rumor on, or guessed at.

"So, do you get a lot of these status challenges occur a lot here?"

"Not really, not up on the main level, can't do it when the Mundanes are around of course. Most of the Weres prefer a sparring match, or for some of the more aggressive- a full combat match, and thats generally done really private. But here in Houston we're a lot more cohesive I guess is the word, what with the Council and all. You're new in town, right? Here." He pulled out a small business card with three local phone numbers on it and handed it to loki as he explained. "Council hotline for reporting trouble. The number for the Hospital, and the bottom one is for here."

"Houston. Damn, when was the last time I was here for anything worth remembering?" The man's past stretched back, far beyond what most could comprehend, and even less believe. Let's see, I was here in '61, to sign up for the Confederates, and what the fuck was it, oh yeah, with Scott before he sailed down the coast to sidestep Santa Anna and his drive to Mexico City. There were some good men with that group. The man had taken a cab from the airport, but the cabby nearly laughed when he was told the destination. Nearly. A stare from grey-blue eyes had told the driver that this guy was not to be quetioned.

The cabby toook the man to his desired location. The fee was handed over, and the man left, leaving the cabby with the change as a tip, and not a single word spoken between them.

Cain's rose up in front of him. Walking in, he paused only briefly at the admissions booth. He tossed the money in threw the window, then proceeded inwards. The guards took one step, but saw his face. He was well known here. And not well liked. He took the elevator to the third floor. Stepping out, he walked to the bar. Two customers noticed him, and gave the people in their respective groups small elbows and pointed with their eyes. A scar running down the left side of his face was identification enough. Those that knew who he was recognized it immediately. A larger part of the crowd noticed nothing, and the others kept it that way.

"Casey, you look like shit," the bartender said. He liked Casey. Always had a good war story, and it was always something different. "What will it be?"

"Anything," Casey said.

"Vodka it is then. You know, you never told me the story behind its creation. You told you met the guy, but I have yet to here the tale of its origin."

"Some Arab court astronomer that always took trips so he could drink. Met a Russian that had tried to kill his kid. I was the one that broke up the fight. Anyways, the kid takes the Russian out to meet his father, and the guy asks to see some of the Russian's favourite drink. The Russian says sure, the guy puts it through an alembic, and poof, you've got a clear liquid strong enough to rival Scotch and Irish Whiskey. The three go to Russia, and next thing you know, it actually has something worth trading for." It was an interesting story. "There a fight tonight?"

"Want in? Somebody has been bragging recently. You're the only guy he hasn't heard of yet, so if he doesn't know what you are, then he should accept the challenge." The bartender poured Casey another vodka.

"What's his name?" asked Casey.

"You know that I can't say. Want in?"

"Sure."

"Dunno what you're talking about, woman",

And Sian loosened most of her hold on his body, letting him try on his own to control himself, as powers stirred with in him. It was not a power she had encountered before and was still nascent, new growing, potential unfilled.

"And a "teeps" is a telepath. Though it's not a very nice one" Sian gave Red a look.

gently, gently now she let calm flood her mental tones, but made it an offering of aid rather than control.

"Yes, I know how it is but I also know you shouldn't leave your sister to fend for herself, even a short time as you do." She acknowledged that he was trying to do his best, but also that it was less than ideal...and made him an offer, aloud, so that it had witnesses. The wallet he'd lifted was telekensised from his grasp, and floated over to Jackie, with whom she had a brief conversation. He sighed, frowned and then nodded with a wry smile.

"Your name is Scott, and your sister's is Kristy" It was a statement not a question. "You both have abilities you don't understand, don't know how to use effectively, and are more than half afraid of. You don't know me from Adam, and you have no reason to trust me." She released all controll back over to himself, the faint glow about her fading once again.

Sian leaned back against the van and regarded Scott compassionately. "However I'm going to make you an offer. You and Kristy come live with me, I'll be your guardian until you, then she come of age. I'll feed you, clothe you, get you in a school with others like you, and help you learn to use your powers. I can't change your pasts, but I can help make ya'lls futures better."


Sweet Mary, mother of God.

She may have let go of her control over him, but as it was, she might as well have continued to keep him mentally bound, for all Scott could do at this point was gape. Not to mention it was taking him all he could at the moment not to just keel over completely from utter shock.

What the hell am I dealing with here?!

This harmless-looking lady, apart from having the ability to play him like a voodoo doll, apparently could also move wallets through the air without touching them, know his and Kristy's names without asking, know just what had happened to the both of them without even needing to see it for herself, and on top of all that, knew that he didn't trust her as well. If this was telepathy, there was a lot to be said for it, Scott thought to himself.

Man, I'm not safe around this lady, whoever the hell she is.

And for all of that, she even made him an offer that sounded......well, just too good to be true. Now the real panic was starting to set in; Scott could vaguely sense the parched feeling in his throat, could vaguely feel his feet shifting from side to side, his right hand in his pocket, playing with the Toyota car key that still happened to be in his possession. Although considering what this lady was capable of, that could change any moment too, as well, or so he figured. There had been many things to make him real afraid in the past, but as far as Scott was concerned, this one pretty much took the whole cake, icing and all. And that was not even putting into consideration the scarlet-haired fanged bitch who would probably suck him dry, the human gorilla who would probably turn him into a human pancake, and the bad boy who......well, whatever it was that he could do to him, Scott was sure that at least it wouldn't be pretty.

"Well it's all and well that you don't need to ask me to know what I need for me and my sis", he began, vaguely aware of the fact that he was backing off slowly, inch by painful inch, without conscious effort. He was really, really afraid now, and ready to make a run for it. To just grab Kristy and run, for these people were just too scary to contemplate. "But how would I know you're for real, hmm?", he added, eyes darting to each of the four weird folk cornering him right now.

"I mean, it sounds too good to be true, y'know", he continued, looking at the mysterious lady with the mind powers again. "I just tried to lift ya boyfriend's wallet, and you're offering me food and board til Kristy's of age, instead of hauling me to the slammer? You can't blame me for bein' skeptical, y'know? 'Sides, what's in it for you?", Scott prattled on, gaining back at least a measure of some confidence against the mounting fear raging in him. "I got me a lynch squad comin' after me from my town, and the most I'd do for you is lead them to you. Not that I want to, but it can't be helped, I'm runnin' from them too."

" 'Sides", Scott finished, nodding to the bad boy. "Y'sure your boyfriend wanna be the Brad Pitt to your Jolie? It'll be nice, but like I said, don't blame me if I ain't quite got the faith in you like you say you do in me, y'know?"

Ryan watched, yet wasn't effected in the ways the other observers were. He felt a bit of lust and was impressed at the skill put in, but was emotionally unaffected by the dancing as it appeared that many others were including the waitress.

He listened to her talk, asking questions when he didn't know what she was refering to. He was sure she'd think he was wierd or something for being oblivious of so much of the culture, but that couldn't be helped. Her semi-ramblings were full of much valuable information that he could use and he was kind of glad that he'd taken a seat in the 'territory' of such a talkative waitress.

The crack of the nine mil rang out again, twice, and both rounds ripped into the paper, both high and right, just inside the five ring. "This sucks," he said, shaking himself out. "Shooting hasn't been this off in a while."

He holstered the sidearm, and sent the target out to fifteen feet, shaking himself out again. "Lets try this again." He let his arm hang down, and in one quick, smooth motion, yanked the pistol from the holster, brought it up, and squeezed twice, the two rounds close enough to sound like a single blast to an untrained hear. THe rounds slammed center mass of the paper target, both rounds ripping into the ten ring, both rounds creating a neat hole in the center of the target. The next double tap only creating a single center mass hole, the second round pasing through one of the previously created holes. He let the Beretta hang to his side.

"Now we're talking. So, anything else going on tonight, or are we just shooting paper?" Another double tap, two more hits with no new holes, and Fortier was getting back into the groove.

Y'sure your boyfriend wanna be the Brad Pitt to your Jolie? It'll be nice, but like I said, don't blame me if I ain't quite got the faith in you like you say you do in me, y'know?"

Sian's smile was sad as she listened to Scott manage not to panick too badly and present reasonable explainations as well. No now days it didn't pay to be too trusting and for kids on the run that was even more so.

"look picking pockets and jacking cars is just going to land you in the slammer - that Supra probably has at least a Low Jack, if not an electrical grid that will give you nasty burns and shock you hard enough so that the cops will find your still unconscious body when they respond to the automatic call in the on board will make."

She shook her head. "How about this. We go get Kristy, let her sleep some place clean and safe for a time while we discuss this further in a more comfortable setting."

Jackie added " What Sian wants I try and give her, as she deserves the best." Sian blushed at that but Jackie just grinned at her and continued "You may not know her but I do, and if she makes you an offer it's honestly meant. Look kid, it's hard on the streets, I know, and there's better places to be. Come talk with us, get a solid meal under your belt and think about it."

"Now we're talking. So, anything else going on tonight, or are we just shooting paper?"

Charli looked at what her later rounds had done and shook her head sadly. They were more in her ususal range of "well my palm could cover that pattern but not much less" She was more experienced with rifles but they weren't really adviseable for city living.

Looking at Fortiers groupings she winced, whomever he hit with precission like that wouldn't be standing.

"Well there will probably be some dueling in the arena starting up any moment now." She motioned back out towards the fighting arena they'd passed on the way down to the armory and the shooting range. "And if you are expecting some one miliatry or para military that might well be where you'll find them. But as far as anything special,other than just a far-to-early-to-be-completely-natural hurrican, nothing that I've been apprised of. Sorry to not be of much help there. Though If I ever jumped into a firestorm with as little of information as they apparently sent you out with, I'd be hollering like a scalded cat, and maybe not jumping. Jumping blind tends to get one killed."

Though If I ever jumped into a firestorm with as little of information as they apparently sent you out with, I'd be hollering like a scalded cat, and maybe not jumping. Jumping blind tends to get one killed.

"Oh, I know. But I'm not suprised. It's the way that Special Intell works. Thats why they don't use us field shooters, they stick with the real ICIA black ops guys. The spies, not the shooters. They probably had a comped operative, and wanted me to get him out, but there isn't anyone thats jumped out at me. Most of the time, they have some sorta way of getting in contact once your in country. This whole situation reeks of bad news."

Fortier emptied the magazine down range, keeping the groupings tight and clean. He brought the target in, checked out the groupings, and slapped a new magazine into the Beretta. "There's something going on," he said, holstering the side arm. "And its bad java."

The bartender went into the back to make a call to the office. He was then transferred to the second-floor private club. He spoke his business a second time, and was put on hold until a deep voice came on. "What's this I hear about a no-name wanting to go in the Arean tonight"

"Guy I know," said the bartender, unfazed, "He's pretty tough, and would give you a run for your money. You want him, or do I tell everybody that you are afraid of guys off the street that you don't have a chance to sabotage first?"

"I'll take him, but what are the terms?"

"He leaves all of that to you."

"He must be pretty brave. To the death, then, unless the ref declares a victor. Who do you want to ref?" I would prefer a neutral, so if he ain't Kindred, I'll submit to a neutral Vampire. I saw Claudius on the way in. He's my pick."

"Done," said the bartender. "There are already two fights, but I have dibs on the third, so now I can make it official. Meet him down there after Slygarr and Bostrum are finished."

"He had better be as good as you feel, otherwise, I'm going to eat him."

"He'll probably give you indigestion." And a severe dose of death to go with it. The phone clicked. The bartender called the office again. The fight was set. Third attle tonight. It would be a good night for betting.

The bartender walked back to Casey. "The name is Joseph. He's a Lycan. You have the third fight tonight. A vamp named Claudius is reffing. You're already in."

Casey turned his attention from the dance stage. "Fine. Can I get my card? I want to get to the Jacuzzi before I fight. I have some major tensions that needs to be relaxed before I dish it out to this Joseph." The bartender fished out Casey's card from a spot in the drawer. Management allowed Casey access, since he always drew major betting crowds if sertain people knew he was in. They kept his card for him not out of security, but for courtesy. Casey took the card, got into the elevator, alone, and swiped it. Descending, the back, not the front, opened into a private area, into which Casey stepped. The doors leading to the elevator closed behind him, and Casey turned to the locker rooms, where he knew at least one Jacuzzi was awaiting him.

Red seemed to vanish from Scott's sight, though that wasn't entirely the case. She simply moved with the speed of a vampire and was standing behind him before he knew it. As he backed into her she said, "Look, kid. Like Brad over there I grew up on the streets. I wasn't like everyone else, just like you ain't. And let me tell ya, there ain't a whole lot of people who give a shit either. She does. And as for someone after ya, well, they'll be in for a world of hurt. I mean we ain't exactly a can-can line around here."

"Can-can", Godolkin said in a questioning tone.

"Old style dance ... never mind", Red replied.

After he listened to the waitress a bit more, where he still didn't know her name, he held up a hand to pause her. "Sorry about interrupting you, but nature calls and I must pay head to it." He said as he stood.

With a nod to the waitress, he headed to the bathroom to relieve himself. After washing his hands, and picking a piece of jerky out of his teeth, he headed back to his seat. Passing by the Were that had done the dance, he paused and commented, "You danced well."

He then headed back to his seat, circling the dance floor while wondering if his information source and the waitress was still there or not.

Aliana waved her away with one hand, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn with the other. "Just get me a glass of your house white." Then suddenly, she broke into a mischevious grin.

Never seen a Sidhe before have you, my dear? She slipped the thought gently into the waitress's mind.

Ali
"Just get me a glass of your house white."

"Coming right up"

Never seen a Sidhe before have you, my dear?

[i]Never seen you in here before. And didn't your mother teach you that it waw rude to talk inouthers minds without being invited?[i]The reply snapped back and suddenly the waitresses mind as shielded and shut. She moved away brisky to fill the order and to remind herself that raining frogs on the clientell was not conducive to remaining employeed.

***********************************
Ryan
"Sorry about interrupting you, but nature calls and I must pay head to it."

Tanya nodded and gave Ryan a smile as she had moved off to take care of customers in her section. He seemed to be a very nice man despite the the oddness of his lack of knowledge, but she had seen it before. 'Lost Ones' they tended to be called, raised not knowing much if anything about the Strange Folk they were a part of. She thought it rather sad. She envied those whose Gifts were other and greater than hers, but only mildly.

"You danced well."

"Thank you!" The Were cougar beamed at him as Ryn passed where she sat, still aglow from the inner joy the dance and challenge had brought her. Her Alpha watched over her with a small, rueful smile on his face. His granddaughter had totally surprized him, but he was old enough, and wise enought to know that children grew up, it was the way of the world. He just hoped she would be careful in her choice of a mate.

*************************
Fortier
"There's something going on. And its bad java."

Charli looked at Fortier gravely. "I'm willing to believe that Fortier, but what? It's a mystery to me"

Cain's grapevine was even more effecient than most, meaning that at times it definitely seemed to be faster than light...

Charli's Tag (http://www.atddm.com/tag01.jpg) chimed against her wrist, and she un- curled it off , stretching it out in to phone mode. She' half turned away..

"Yo?...No, Not at the moment..WHO?!" The snarl that entered her voice was clearly audible to Fortier, and while her face remained calm her eyes blazed. " Okay, Yeah I'll take your place. He doesn't know me, but I know of him. I thought that Ryan was going to revoke his priviledges...No, no, we'll deal with that later."

She looked up at Fortier, for as tall as she was he was slightly taller. "I think that maybe the trouble you wre looking for has showed up.

*****************************************
Casey

The mens locker room was much as Casey remembered it, save that it had been updated and the color scheme changed some what. It was soothing in deep blues, dark jade and bronze with an oriental undertone. The jacuzzi's, bith the large and the small were currently empty, but others of the Night Life moved about some useing free weights, one getting what appeared to be profeeional qulaity physical therapy on his left leg, still another working out on the uneven bars.

There were no Were's currently present, and despite the bartenders misspeak, is was a Were that Casey would be matched with. Lycan's were not allowed in Cains, or within the Council's jurisdiction. They made too many Messes. And Messes were dangerous to all of the Strange Folk.

One of the locker room attendants gave Casey a stack of thickly luxurious towels and assigned him a locker. 'Would you like a bathrobe, or a kimono sir?" he asked Casey as he handed over the locker card key.

"A robe, please. And something liquid, cold, and relaxing, without any intoxicants. It's not too hard, so I am sure you understand what would happen if it is not followed to the letter." Casey took his robe, and went to his locker. He took his clothes and folded them inside neatly, professionally. His arms were still in his bag, which had been sent ahead to his hotel, but his combat knife was placed on top. As if I need it, he thought.

Casey took the robe, and stepped silently to the Jacuzzi. Choosing the largest, to accomodate his slightly larger dimensions, he stepped in, right after putting the robe and towel within reach. He lay back, and let the pulsating jets pund into his rock hard back.

Ryan returned to his seat, noting the waitress had moved on. In a way he was slightly relieve as he'd had as much contact in a few hours as he normally had in a few weeks, or occasionally months. He also smiled slightly at the Were cougar's enthusiasm with the thought, "The innocence and naivety of the young."

As he noticed his water still where it had been left, sans the melted ice cubes, he pulled out a PDA type device. Pulling up a few files, those concerning the topics he'd learnt about thank's to the waitress, he began inputing data. If there were any nosey types who liked to peek over shoulders, they'd probably be appalled if they read any of the files he was updating.

Finishing up, adding a small bubble containing Suspect around the new data, he finished and put the device away while going back to watching the strange beings doing thier stuff. He considered going out to dance, but decided to postpone that decision till after he finished the pitcher of water and trail-mix.

"Council hotline for reporting trouble. The number for the Hospital, and the bottom one is for here."

Loki looked over the numbers and nodded in thanks as he pocketed the card.

"That would explain why things seem so relaxed and calm around here... it's all very organised by this Council."

At that point another man entered the club and took a seat at the bar, Loki getting a slight glimpse at the man's scar before he sat down and began talking with another bartender nearby.

Whilst not attempting to listen in on the conversation, Loki couldn't help but hear the story about vodka and the organising of a fight downstairs. Turning back to the man before him as his steak sandwich was served, Loki nodded in the general direction of Casey.

"What's this fight they're talking about?"

Aliana raised an eyebrow. This girl was a bit arrogant given the level of her powers. Lesson time.

No. She taught me never to let my guard down. No one gets in my head unless I want them to. And you REALLY need better mental shields.I'm not even trying hard.

With a self-satisfied smile, she grabbed more popcorn from the bowl and leaned back in her chair to continue watching the people. Aliana had always been known as someone who was confident in her abilities. Scratch that. She was outright arrogant and she knew it. Fortunately, she was also completely aware of her limitations, such as they were.

I really ought to stop being mean to people. Hum. Maybe tomorrow I'll try being nice. It would be a change at least. This time she was careful to keep her thoughts to herself.

No. She taught me never to let my guard down. No one gets in my head unless I want them to. And you REALLY need better mental shields.I'm not even trying hard.

The waitress didn't bother to reply as she exercised her pw small Gift...and Ali found herself dripping with dozens of small, vividly green three toed tree toads - though actually they were frogs. They hopped and scrabbled about trying to flee the strange place they had sudddenly found themselves.

Some landed on Ali's lap, others on her head, or infront of her on the table top.

Thd waitress giggled to herself as she walked towards the bar to fetch the wine.

(OOC: Shal, I said Scott has the keys to a Toyota.......I've yet to post that it's a Supra yet. How would Sian know it's a Supra Scott's holding the keys to, when he doesn't even know it himself? :p )


"look picking pockets and jacking cars is just going to land you in the slammer - that Supra probably has at least a Low Jack, if not an electrical grid that will give you nasty burns and shock you hard enough so that the cops will find your still unconscious body when they respond to the automatic call in the on board will make. How about this. We go get Kristy, let her sleep some place clean and safe for a time while we discuss this further in a more comfortable setting."

"What Sian wants I try and give her, as she deserves the best. You may not know her but I do, and if she makes you an offer it's honestly meant. Look kid, it's hard on the streets, I know, and there's better places to be. Come talk with us, get a solid meal under your belt and think about it."


Still as wary as ever, Scott continued to watch each of the four strangers in turn. In his mind, though, he was beginning to mull over his options. They did seem rather a reasonable lot, even though it still sounded a bit too good to be true. After all, three months in this city, not to mention his prior bad experiences with his difference, had taught Scott a lot about self-preservation against the selfish city dwellers, and giving up these instincts just wasn't going to happen in a flash.

Still, do I have that many options......?, he thought to himself. After all, as far as he was concerned, it was a choice between potentially walking into a trap, and potentially blowing off a genuine offer, and pissing them off in the process. And Scott knew too that pissing them off was the last thing he wanted to do. What to do, what to do. Such a hard decision to make, and really, it was like a gamble with stakes so high, he wasn't sure if he could commit himself to a choice.......

And just then, he backed into something. Something that had two soft mounds pressing into his back.

"Yikes!!!", Scott exclaimed, as he backed away and rounded on Carrot Top (Red). "How the hell did.......never mind", he finished lamely, as he gave Carrot Top a decidedly gimlet eye. With what he had seen the "teep" lady do, Scott wasn't sure anything would surprise him anymore.

Damned, now I'm cornered from all sides......

"Look, kid. Like Brad over there I grew up on the streets. I wasn't like everyone else, just like you ain't. And let me tell ya, there ain't a whole lot of people who give a shit either. She does. And as for someone after ya, well, they'll be in for a world of hurt. I mean we ain't exactly a can-can line around here."


And to be honest, he was being brought to the tipping point there and then. Three months on the run, keeping himself and Kristy low from anyone who might be seeking him out, was starting to take a toll on him. What would he give to get what the "teep" lady was offering him, a normal life for once, the normal life he used to have. To get to go to school, to have a home to come home to, and not have to worry about being different. Or being persecuted. Yet, to have something like that brought within his reach, when he had practically lost of hope of ever regaining it. How could he not be suspicious?

"I don't know.......Kristy!"

And he didn't know she was standing there. She had run out when she heard the fracas going on, fearing for her brother. But even now, she was standing a distance away from them, as if she had hit an invisible barrier erected between them and herself. Once he saw it, Scott knew that the invisible barrier was one erected largely in her own mind; she was shaking, her eyes were full of fear. She was freaking out. And badly.

Oh, no.......

"Kristy, come here!", Scott yelled, breaking away from the strangers who had accosted him, quite forgetting he was being cornered as he brushed past Carrot Top, gathering his sister in his arms as she rushed towards him. Kristy was indeed freaking out quite badly; her face was streaked with tears, he now saw, and all she could do was make gulping sounds as she looked at the foursome.

"S'okay, Kristy, they're cool." Well, he didn't believe what he was saying himself, but he had a freaked-out little sister to calm down. But she didn't seem to be listening to him, rather, she was staring quite intensely from over his shoulder. Turning, he looked at where Kristy was looking. At the human gorilla, who had asked Carrot Top what a can-can was. Of course, he knew what that meant.

"Sorry", he said. "She's scared of strange men. Got a real good reason to be so too, especially as big a brute as you are", he concluded, looking meaningfully at Brute (Godolkin). "Almost got raped by one who looked like you not so long ago; I killed him dead before he could get his way, but that was what started all this for me and Kristy, y'know."

Just then, he became even more aware of Kristy's body against his. The rough, worn clothes she was wearing. As well as her bony ribs.

Man. She's had a hard life with me, Kristy has. I did my best, but I know it's not enough too. That's why I was about to send her to an orphanage soon; I want the best for her. I always have. I thought if someone'll adopt her, she wouldn't have to live this tough life with me. But now I'm getting such a good offer.......can I really decline? Can I really deny this for Kristy? I.......

He made up his mind.

"Alright", Scott said finally, turning back to Teep Lady. "Okay. I'll do so. Not that I'm saying I won't be fine by myself out here", he added, frowning somewhat sternly at Bad Boy. "but Kristy could use some feeding up. A clean place to sleep too. Yeah, I'm only sayin' okay 'cause Kristy needs it, y'know? I don't wanna be presumin' anything here."

Just then, a thought came to his mind, and Scott reached into his pocket, withdrawing the Toyota car key he had kept hidden thus far. No point hiding it now, Teep Lady had already seen through it. What he couldn't figure out was.......

"Hey", Scott said, frowning at Teep Lady. "How'd you know it's a Supra this key opens? I don't even know it's a Supra yet........whatever a Supra is."

Casey was relaxing in the small pool of water, having just moved to a seat where the jets pulsated on his neck. A locker room attendant came up with a tray, carrying a single drink. "For you, Mr. Lonnergan. Courtesy of management. They wish to thank you, for they plan to publicize the even later tonight." It was said without compromise.

So, they plan to really draw out the crowds. Or is somebody trying to mislead me? Ahh, well, never really did have the whole mental gifts. Casey opened his eyes. He reached out, and took the drink from the profferred tray. "What exactly is this?"

"Green Tea, sir, with a small amount of relaxers brewed into it from various herbs. Natural, and harmless. As is everything we offer." Casey thanked the young man. He sipped the tea, taking only a small sample at first. If it had anything disagreeable, then his body would tell him, and at this dose, only the most powerful of drugs could knock him senseless. There was nothing abnormal about the tea. Casey drank it slowly, savoring it, but deeply. His body loosened, his muscles lost their tense pose that he had acquired on the plane. He would have plenty left for the fight later. For now, time to relax.

"What's this fight they're talking about?"

His bartender looked uneasy for a moment, seemed to give a mental shrug, then leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"We have a dueling arena and such in the below ground levels. It's not general knowledge, but" He shrugged and held out his hand "I'm Dead Dave, and welcome to Cains."

"How'd you know it's a Supra this key opens? I don't even know it's a Supra yet........whatever a Supra is."

Sian laughed. "You were thinking quite loudly about a Toyota, and the Supra is the only one worth stealing.. Look over your shoulder, about five cars down to your right. Thats a Supra."

While he looked, she moved over to where she could see Kristy clearly as the young teen huddled against her brother. She kept her voice soft, and compassionate "I'm Doctor Sian, and if you're willing I'd like you and Scott to come live with me. Are you hungry? Come one, we're going to go get you and Scott some food."

She held out a hand for Kristy to take if she chose, as she got every one headed for Cains.

Jackie was careful to minimise his 'presence', he'd been around scared young girls before and had no desire to make her fright any worse.

"I'm Dead Dave, and welcome to Cains."

Loki offered his hand, taking Dave's hand in a firm grip.

"I'm Loki Murphy, I guess you'd say I'm a bit of a nomad. A few guys I ran into back in Florida told me to come down here and stay at the hotel. And now I'm here, considering it's the only place with power in sight."

It seemed somewhat strange that Dave was telling him about the duelling arena, especially considering he was quite new to the area. Shrugging off speculation, Loki continued presenting questions.

"So it's kinda like a place to test one's... abilities?"

The idea of Night Life holding contests of power wasn't foreign to Loki at all, he'd even been in a few here and there, nothing major though. The way this place was though, he figured anyone fighting here would be a true combatant, one not to be taken lightly.

"Eew. Frogs. " Aliana closed her eyes for a second, and the frogs lifted into the air as a group, and floated off after the girl who'd summoned them.

Amateur. But at least she's amusing.

A small smile lingered on the elf's lips as she settled back into her chair and munched on some more popcorn.

"So it's kinda like a place to test one's... abilities?"

"Yeah for settleing grudges, status challenges for the more agressive, training, such, but you need to excuse me for a second, as I think some one is arranging something that has been specifically forbidden of late...Oh here" He pulled out a card key. "You're welcome to go explore, as my guest."

He pointed out where the private elevator was discretely set into a mostly unnoticed alcove, then turned away to place a call on a house phone.

I think that maybe the trouble you were looking for has showed up.

Robert had listened to what part of the conversation he could hear, and had heard the tone in Charli's voice. The deep snarl was one of those that even he backed away from. He had fought insurgents in Sambizie, New Genoa, most of the Middle East and Latin America. He had rescued hostages in Europe, Imitora, and Iansisle. He had taken on super soldiers in Celeborne, and fought vampires in Larkinia and even here in Houston. He had stood tow to tow with Satan, and made the Prince of Darkness blink. He had been there, done that, got the tshirt, and was at the reunion. In all his years, there was one thing he learned above all.

Never. Ever. Ever, screw with a pissed of woman. Especially one like Charli.

He disposed the empty magazine into his left pocket, and looked down, at a very slight angle, to Charli.

"Listen. Last time I was here, I got out on pure luck. Total guardian angel, if you believe that sort of thing. I have no idea how to handle any of this nightlife stuff. Hell, I don't even any powers or any of that stuff. I have no idea why I'm here, and I don't think it has anything to do with Imitora at all. I doubt whole heartedly that ICIA called at all, let alone Special Intel."

He paused, and glanced along the walls of weapons, trying to put the puzzle together in his head. "But I don't leave anyone behind. Never have, never will. If you want me to watch your back with whatever is about to go on, I will. Just let me ask, should I run to my car and get the big gun?"

Charli let her breath out long and slow, letting the anger flow away. She liked Fortier, for all she'd ever bitched about his ego. She wasn't sure why she was here, her orders - if one could call them orders, had been to watch and 'you'll know it when it hits, but it may not'.

"But I don't leave anyone behind. Never have, never will. If you want me to watch your back with whatever is about to go on, I will. Just let me ask, should I run to my car and get the big gun?"

"You are always welcome at my back or my side in any sort of 'Mess' Robert Fortier, but I don't know if we're here for the same reasons. I'm no secret agent or 'spec war' operator...I'm kinda just doing a friend a favor, but yeah go get the big gun. I've got a Aplha WereWolf who likes to eat his opponents, and isn't into obeying the local ordinances. And I happen to be subbing for the sherrif? But this is a completely different mess than what I think I'm looking for?" Charlie sighed in frustration and gave Fortier a wry smile...'Help?"

Red stepped over to Godolkin and slapped him on the back, "C'mon, let's get a bite", she told him, "Of food that is", she continued, just for clarification. She had already fed today so she was fine where blood was concerned.

"Mistress", Godolkin rumbled in his deep baritone, "I wouldn't harm her."

Red stopped and looked at him, about to remind him of all the innocent women and children that he had slaughtered in his time. She looked back at Kristy and, amazingly for her, thought better of it. She looked back at Godolkin, "Yeah, I know. But she's about to piss herself", she told him, slipping back to her usual tact, or lack thereof. "So's long as your up in front of her she'll feel better."

"I'm Doctor Sian, and if you're willing I'd like you and Scott to come live with me. Are you hungry? Come one, we're going to go get you and Scott some food."

It was a kindly enough tone that Doctor Sian had offered to Kristy, but freaked as she was, the poor girl just retreated further behind her brother, staring intently at the woman's hand, in no way indicating that she was about to take the hand anytime soon. It was up to Scott to calm her down, as he caressed his sister's head.

"It's alright Kristy, I'm here", he cooed, and she seemed to calm down somewhat, although she still stared warily at Sian. Sighing, Scott turned to Teep Lady, whose name is apparently Sian. "Forgive her, Doc. She's had a hard time. She'll be okay once she had some chow in her."

He hugged Kristy tighter, pulling her body even closer to him, as he finally decided to take a look at the car Sian had pointed out to him. It was a shiny black sports car, looking for all the while like quite a catch. [i]Damned, that's a nice car.

"C'mon sis, it'll be okay. Let's go, alright?"

But yeah, go get the big gun.

Robert nodded, and in no time, he was out from the club, and in the parking garage. He could hear the wind howling, and the sound of the incomming huricain. He hated huricains, it was like a moderate. It couldn't make up its mind whether it wanted to be a tornado or just bad rain storm. He just shook his head on the issue, and made his way to the Viper.

He moved between the cars, and saw a small party conversing just south of his car. Two kids, they looked scared shitless, and then two familiar faces. He couldn't place the names, but they were familiar none the less. He ran the faces through his brain, trying to pick it out, and figured out the girl was Sian. She was some sorta Jean Grey thing, doing all the stuff with her mind. He still couldn't place the guys name, but rembered he could do some pretty nifty things himself.

He simply moved on to the Viper, and keyed the alarm, the single chirp telling him the alarm was off. He pulled open the trunk, and unzipped the black duffle. Inside it was a virtual portable armory. His rifle, assault load, cammo, ammunition to no end, token amounts of explosives, grenades, the works. He dug through, finding a black case, and pulled it out, admiring the piece of machinery inside.

Its a weapon or a piece, never a gun he rembered from his first days of weapons training in IMC. The Imitora Combat Custom was a weapon only available to those that completed one of the toughest training regimens in the world. He lofted the 1911 frame out of the case, and admired the beauty of it. Form followed function, every bit of the weapon having its purpose, nothing on it was uneeded.

The Imitora Combat Custom was only available from IMC armorors, each one hand made from the finest part. A Para Ordinance style frame, custom built by Imitora Military arms, cast in a deep olive green, was the center piece of the weapon. It was molded with a standard sized light rail, to which Fortier had attatched an Insight M3X combat light. The grip was a thin, yet sturdy, soft rubber side plate, with full front and backstrap checkering. The extended beaver tail aided in control of the weapon. Using the Para designed frame, the weapon is capable of holding 14+1 .45ACP rounds

From there, a black Wilson Combat slide assembly kept everything in line and the action smooth. The rear sight was an adjustable set up, with the stanard tritinum inserts for and low level shooting. The internal parts were all match grade, and the weapon was, in true sense of the word, a nail driver. However, the fun didn't end there.

Included with every IMC Combat Custom were three seperate barrels. The first was a standard, match grade barrel to fire the .45ACP rounds. However, it also came with an extended, threaded barrel to attach a silencer for missions where silence was of the essence. And then it came with the big barrel. The interchangeable system allowed the attachment of a barrel that was chambered to fire the .50GI round, a round not as extreme as the .50AE, but designed with the ease of use and familiarity of the 1911. With nothing more than a barrel and magazine change, it went from the .45ACP to the new .50GI. From mild to wild, so to speak.

With quick precison, the .45 barrel was out, and the .50GI in. He grabbed the only two magazines he had of .50GI, slammed one in, and let the other 12 rounder drop into his pocket. He closed the case, placing it back into the car, closed the trunk, and locked it, sliding the Combat Custom into a specialized tactical holster, clipping it to his belt line, and dropping the polo shirt over it. He then headed back into the club to find Charli.

Charli had waited at the private entrance from the tunnels and parking garage into the lower level, useing her card key to hold the entrance open so Fortier could get out and back quicker.

****

Even on the third level down one could hear the wind howling bansidhe like as the hurricane descended upon the city's compact down town area.

Sian glanced up with a sigh from watching Kristy cower, as some one moving quick had come into the garage from the tunnels. She recognised Forter, and frowned. She hadn't known he was back in Houston and carried trouble with him like an ill wind. He's a good man Sian She reminded herself.

Jackie too had been aware of some one entering and recognised Fortier with a frown of his own. He still hadn't forgiven the Imitoran for not shooting the Devil, though he did have to admit that the man was a crack shot. He couldn't see what Fortier was armoring up with, but the sounds of some one checking a clip were unmistakeable to the retired mob hitman. Jackie watched Fortier closely as he closed up the trunk of the Viper and headed back for the tunnel at the same clip he'd come in with.

"C'mon sis, it'll be okay. Let's go, alright?"

Sian turned her attention back to Scott and his little sister. "Food makes everything much better" She urged with a gentle smile as she got the group moving.

Once they were into the tunnel she guided them to the left and towards the private entrance to the lowest level of Cains. "This is the private way in and we can avoid all the noise, get a meal in the smaller lounge" Sian explained as she swiped her card key and laid her hand on the scanner.

**********************

Charli had let the inner door slid closed behind her as Fortier reenterd the club. "I think the hardcase who believes that just because he's an WereWolf means that he's beyond the rules is in the lounge. Time to let him know his priviledges have been revoked."

She turned toward the elaborately carved wood and stained glass door that led to the lounge but before she could step over. A crashing boom shook even the thick, cement walls and the door was thrown off its hinges, flying across the width of the foyer. A trio of massive, half shifted forms, all intertwined, locked in combat, followed almost as one with the door. Almost as one with Charli as well

Charlie yelped and leapt backwards out of the immediate slash zone. "Oh great Gnus!" The growl had returned to her voice.

She ignored the sound of the inner door opening behind her. No one who didn't have a card key would be coming in.

Reds sharp hearing had picked up Fortier as he walked to his car and she stopped to look, not to mention that she didn't have a card key. Godolkin's eyes followed hers and he studied the man as he strode across the parking lot. Neither said anything as they waited for the door to open.

Godolkin held the door, waiting for everyone get step inside and earning a raised eyebrow from Red. She shook her head at his odd behaviour and went in, still struggling about staying or going.

No sound proofing is ever perfect and the massive boom of the lounge door being knocked off it's hinges and across the width of the foyer shook the priave entrance.

Jackie pushed past Scott and the others, drawing his carry piece from the shoulder rig it rode in. "Lainy get the inner door open." His voice was sharp but he kept it low pitched.

Sian nodded and keyed the inner doors.

As they slid open the group could see the cause of the boom, and now the near ear splitting growling, and savange snarls. In between them and the frenzied melee were two others. Fortier and Charli, though neither Charli and Fortier were known to Red and Godlokin - and Godolkin was having to see over and around the others as at this time he was completely in the rear of the small party. Scott and Kristy found themselves in the middle of their group, with Jackie and Red in 'front' of them.

http://www.atddm.com/mugshot1.jpg

"Well, hell", Red said, "looks like somebodies having a good time." The patrons seemed to have developed a bar fight and pretty nasty one at that, at least to Red's mind. But bouncing wasn't her job and this wasn't her concern, "So where we goin?"

Godolkin looked concerned about the ruckus ahead and gently, but firmly, pulled the two young ones behind him. This close to him they could see the tattoos all over his skin. Arcaic designs, some obviously witchcraft symbols of some sort. Once they were behind him he tried to, as unobtrusively as possible, put himself between the melee and Sian, at the same time muttering something. At that point the Holy blade suddenly appeared in his hand, glowing brightly.

"I don't think this is simply a barroom brawl, Mistress", he stated.

"Fuckin A", Red said, pulling her coat aside and drawing the twin automags.

It seemed an odd sight, the two powerful handguns in her hands and the powerfully built man calling her mistress when she seemed to be somewhere around the same age as scott and not much older than Kristy. No more than about 16 or 17 years old.

Less than a second after the first pile of snapping, snarling, hard to tell one body from an other mass barreled out of the loung and they were followed by a second pair, also intermixed, but apparently one of this pair was a vampire.

As their combined mass met with the original three the entireity fell agains the door to the mens locker room, tearing it too from it's hinges and the entire lot falling on to the deep cobalt blue carpet.

"I really don't want to jump into that. I hate bleeding." Charli stepped slightly away from Fortier and a faint blue glow, like the hottest part of a flame limed her "Stay away from me Rob, this would burn you and badly. Let me toss them to you and you shoot them a few times to slow them down and start them thinking again." Then she shrugged and waded into the mass.

"Shit!" Casey was not happy. He could hear the brawl that was coming in. Grabbing his robe, he whipped it on as he ran to his locker. Two seconds later, he was on the bench, pulling up both his boxers and his combat pants. The shirt would have to be forsaken. Next came the socks, and the boots, followed by the belt with the knife. Once he was finished, he ran to the back, waiting for whatever was soon to come. His torso was bared, and had plenty of scarring for all to see, most notably a rather large scar just above his heart. Knowing what was coming, the alias of Casey was dropped. It would be distracting to not refer to his true name in the current circumstances. Casca Rufio Longinus was pissed. And that wasn't good.

There was a sitting area just inside the mens locker room, often filled with those catching a last read of the paper before work, or the first phone call after work, but right now it was being thoroughly trashed, and those's who's lockers were nearests had fled for safer areas, deeper with in the spacious locker room.

Charli didn't bother to knock, she just strode in and grabbed the nearest limb. A scream that wasn't due to a slashing claw strike rose as the steel melting heat that surrounded said hands left a bone deep brand on the ankle. Charli braced, accepting a blind strike against her torso that left bleeding furrows - though she didn't bother to bite back a scream - and heaved.

She was just strong enough that her captive pulled partially free of the tangle. Then she spun, lofting the WereWolf into the air in an awkward thow that took him just barely back into the foyer.Gods these beasties are heavy, or I'm the hell outta shape

"Fortier, that's one" She ground out and turned back to the others. It'd be a LOT easier just to french fry these sorry som'bitches she groaned inside as she paused for a hearbeat. She needed to find another free limb to grasp.

But before she could find a free limb the writing mass stumbled heavily towards, then into the first bank of lockers, and as she watched, wincing, the lockers did a credible imitation of a domino cascade...

"Timber!" She managed to shout as the toppling began, and she found a giggle rising.

Casca heard the timber, but didn't know what it meant, until he heard the crashing. Then he pelted out of the way. Just in time to get smacked sideways by a misguided, albeit ferocious backhand.

That's more than enough of this, Casca thought. He grabbed the nearest thing to him. A were, but a big one. He gave a tug, and it turned to deal with this new mosquito. It met a scorpion. The Were lunged, but Casca sidestepped and ducked, turnign to watch it crash into the tub he had recently occupied. Drawing his knife, he spoke simply, and without emotion. "You picked the worng guy's Jacuzzi to interrupt."

ALI
The waitress screamed as the cloud of emerald green frongs splashed down on her. She whipped around and glared at Ali, then with a wave dismissed the three toes tree toads. Muttering angrily to herlse she disappeared behind the bar.

Those in the vicinity gave the Sidhe looks but said nothing to the stranger. The Sidhe generally kept to themselves, seldom visiting Cains and much more was attributed to them than perhaps they could do,but none wanted to cross her. Safer to ignore the stanger.

*******************************

Ryan

Tanya came back over as Ryan finished making his enrties into this PDA. "Would you like some more water?" She nodded her head toward the carafe she'd brought over earlier. It was nearly empty. She saw that he'd eaten a lot of the tanuits and made a mental note to get him a refil of that as well.

The voice that crashed over the combatants, reverberating in the echo chamber of the hard tiled back walls, was trained to be heard over the roar and malestrom of a forest fire "No Weapons! Damn it! NO killing!"

Charli wasn't aware of how much blood was soaking the remnants of her silk blouse, or she would have been even more furious. As it was she knew that she didn't have the speed or the true depth of strength to go up against the Were's much less the Vamps. and if she used fire against the Vamp - it's most likely be terminal...so she did waht she could. She closed, just barely ducking another unaimed swing. It hit the one it had been aimed at and as the target began to fall she caught him, and redirected the momentum so that he found himself stumbling, reeling helplessly back in the direction of the door they'd bashed off it's hinges. He too would bear hand shaped burns that went far deeper than just flesh.

The pain from the deep gashes across her ribs, and the fact that one was broken, had her gasping form that twist and lift maneuver. Red fogged her vision momentarily.

Casca heard the voice. what the f*^% is going on in here?!? He didn't have time to think of anything else. His knife was suddenly gone, and a claw had just slashed his left upper arm. Turning, furiously, Casca went low as the ancient mage from the land of the Han had taught him. When the Were leapt at him again, he moved up slightly, caught the brute, and rocked backwards, sending the attacker flying into one of the toppled lockers. Casca made good on the chance, and rushed up, slamming his fist into that special place just sout of the skull. It was normally easy to do with a small tap, but that was with a normal human, so the Were required a proportionally larger amount of force to subdue.

"Yes please, oh and I'm good on the trail mix side. You can give my commendations to the chef, except for the salted plums." He replied before asking, "Do things like that happen often?"

He ideally wondered what aspect of the 'Night Life' the waitress fit into, and what the reactions would be if the locals figured out that he wasn't one.

Do things like that happen often?"

"You mean the rain of frogs?" Tanya hid a snicker behind a cough. "Ah, nooooo, Sandy doesn't do that too often, she likes her job here. SOme one must a po'ed her. An' I'll let the chef know about the kudo's for the Tanuits. Sure you don't need something more solid? With the way the hurricanes hitting nothings going to be open for a while, even if the Looting sand Plunder manages to get the power back on the minute the winds drop." And from the way she said it, she left no doubt that she figured at least a day without power downtown maybe even longer.

http://www.atddm.com/mugshot2.jpg

"Actually I meant the exhibition and the frogs. I've never seen either before." He commented as he plucked out an ice cube and crunched down on it. "I guess a menu might be nice as with a hurricane outside, I'm pretty sure I'll be eating her at least a few more times in the near future."

"So what else, if anything, is there besides the bar and dance floor at Cain's?"

Fortier jumped back, getting out of the way of the mass of tangled bodies, snapping the Combat Custom up and out of the holster on instinct. He dropped back as Charli had advised, and watched as someone else jumped haphazardly into the battle. He watched as the creatures brawled, keeping his distance, waiting for a clean shot. These weren't beasts that would go down with a leg wound.

Suddenly, a mass of fur lept out at him, one of the weres, claws out, fangs bared. It hissed and roared, its midair tragectory heading straight for Fortier's throat. The Imitoran acted fast, aimed, and squeezed.

Weres and lycans could withstand a great deal of damage before going down. However, there also existed a number of things that would bring them down instantly. While a round that went below the brain or upper portion of the head would be healed, having the back half of the skull blow clean across the room, and redecorating the area behind the beast in brain matter gray was an easy way to put the dog down fast.

The were had only been a mere five feet from Fortier when he fired, and the .50GI hollowpoint round entered through the open mouth, and slamed into the upper portion of its rear pallate just bellow the brain. It expanded and musroomed out, as all hollowpoints do, and tore a hole a slight bit bigger than a decent sized fist through the beast's brain. The round then exited, carrying with it full force and power, chunks of frontal skull and brain matter comming with it. The full back chunk of the skull disapeared, with gore and brain spraying on anything on the other side of the beast that didn't get hit by the still flying round. The force had pulled the wolf's head back with it, and its flight path reveresed as the body came crashing down to the ground.

The were managed a light squeal before death, sounding like a kicked puppy. Its body slid across the floor, and came to a rest a short distance from where it had been it. Fortier had already moved the weapon around, and was searching for a new, clean target.

"No Weapons! Damn it! NO killing!"

Red was half tempted to shoot anyway but looked at Godolkin frowning after his sword disappeared.

"What?" she asked, putting her guns away.

They were already in enough trouble with various people, they didn't need any more. She jumped suddenly as Fortier's gun thundered and mumbled, 'Well somebody ain't listnin', then strode forward with Godolkin, heading toward the mens locker room.

"You're welcome to go explore, as my guest."

Loki gave his thanks to Dace as the bartender went off to deal with some other issue, leaving the young Australian to himself. Curious about the other facilities the club had to offer, Loki finished his sandwich with a satisfied burp and began a beeline towards the hidden elevator.

Using the card key, Loki gained access to the elevator and looked at the options he had. Two other levels appeared to be private clubs for certain types of people and he didn't want part of that. The third underground level sparked his interest however, specifying the presence of an arena and armoury. Hitting the appropriate button, Loki stood calmly as the lift descended.

As soon as the doors opened Loki's ears were assaulted by the sounds of a rather intense scuffle, screams, snarls, physical blows and even a gunshot rang through the air. Ducking just in case the shot was being fired towards him, Loki scrambled out of the elevator and was immediately drawn towards his left, noting a man with a gun and the still form of a half changed were on the ground before him.

Keeping the knife on his belt in mind, Loki stood and moved towards Fortier, not making any effort to keep his approach quiet as he didn't want to surprise the man and end having his head blown apart.

Noting the scuffle was inside the men's locker room, Loki stopped a few metres from Fortier and called out to him whilst keeping an eye on everything else happening around him. Out of all the things Loki had been speculating about as the lift descended, this had never crossed his mind.

"What the hell is going on here?"

At first, he was just following the Teep Lady who called herself "Doctor Sian", holding Kristy by his side, looking for a free meal for her, for she deserved it. The next thing he knew, all hell had broken loose in front of them. Wolfmen brawling with each other, glowing women tossing them around, and worse of all, one of them shot dead right in front of their eyes.

Oh, dear God in Heaven. What have I gotten myself into?

And all his life, he had thought werewolves were bedtime stories told by parents to scare their children in behaving. Well, those bedtime stories are even now involved in a right scrap, right in front of his eyes, and he didn't know what to make of it. As it was, his panic was rising by the minute, he didn't even know what he should believe in anymore.

First a woman who can read my mind, and now this?! Werewolves, vampires, what next?

Even with all that, Scott remained remarkably stoic. He had to; Kristy, already rather freaked out by the unexplanable events of the past few minutes, was quite hysterical at the sight of these monsters from her worst nightmares come alive. She was whimpering with her hands to her ears, her face buried in his clothes, almost on the verge of screaming. It would not do for him to give in to panic, not now, because if he did, who's going to keep Kristy from falling to pieces altogether? Thus, Scott managed to keep relatively cool in the face of his rising panic, even if it took all his nerve to do so.

Scott hugged Kristy tightly, making sure her face remain buried in his clothes so that she would not have to see what was going on. But now Scott was not just afraid; he was beginning to get quite annoyed too, and it was clear from the expression on his face as he turned to "Doctor Sian".

"You mind telling me what's going on here!?", he exclaimed, in a tone that was a mixture of fear and anger. He didn't know what was going on, and he didn't like it either, especially not when it was scaring his sister like that. And what with having his mind read and his body controlled, the last thing Scott needed was more surprises.

His heart pounding, Scott turned his eyes back to the monster fracas, but Brutus had pull the both of them behind him, and the clear view he had of the huge gorilla-man's tattoos weren't comforting, not in the least. He glanced at Kristy again; her shaking was becoming ever more noticable against his own body by now. She must be hoping to wake up from this nightmare at any moment now, Scott thought, but as for himself, he knew better.

Still very much annoyed and afraid, he turned back to "Doctor Sian". What the hell have I gotten us into? What the hell are these things!? Who the hell are these people?!

"Who are you people?!", Scott nearly yelled at "Doctor Sian", clutching the frightened Kristy tightly to keep her from collapsing altogether. In the face of so many strange things they didn't understand, he had quite forgotten that he had no place to ask; for wasn't he himself and Kristy not human as well? "What are you people?!"

Casca looked over to where the gunshot had come from. There was a guy there, one that, if a couple of inches shorter, and with a lot of scars, could pass for Casca. Then there was some lady with him, and the neo-Casca had a rather large gun. Casca recognized the desing, it was unmistakable. "Great, Imitoran Black Ops. Just what we needed."

Casca bolted over to where the Imitoran was standing. By now, he was starting to sweat, and as always, it began to magnify the scars on his body to a much larger degree than was necessary. Coming up next to guy, he half turned, halft side spoke "Got any other arms on you? Gun or knife doesn't matter, but I could use something if you got it."

See OOC thread before posting.

Three of the four WereWolves were out of the fight - one dead courtesy of Fortiers gun, one unconscous due to Casey's accurate blow, one having regained some semblence of control after the pain from the burns Charli had caused got through to him. He was slumped against a wall moaning softly, the fight completely gone out of him.They were the original four, so all that were left was the WereWolf and Vampire that had come crashing through secondarily.

Charli had gained a soon to be magnificently black eye and a wrenched shoulder in her efforts to seperate the last two with out resorting to fire. And the broken rib had shifted, and was close to puncturing a lung. All of the blows that had landed against her had been accidental ones. Only a Were that had left all sanity behind attack a female, and Charli was useing that fact to her advantage. It was a totally different case with Vampires and she was willing to admit a very reasonable fear of the blood drinkers.

Red and Godolkin had just entered the Men's Locker Room

Time elapsed, less than a minute and a half from first trashed door to current situation...

Sian had thrown up a shield around the youngsters as Jackie, Red and Godolkin moved up to form a protective barrier of their own. Then she joined Jackie as Red and Godolkin had moved in but her attention was drawn back as Scott called out.

"What are you people?!"

"We are the Strange Folk, the Night Life, and I'm sorry that you had to see some of us getting out of control."

"What the hell is going on here?" Before any could answer him...

Angry, she strode over to the trio of men. She gave Fortier and Casey a gimlet eye and no smile of welcome. "Trouble follows the two of you like .." She shook her head. The new comer who had come down in the elevator just now and asked what was going on got a brief, assessing look. Then she was moving to join Red and Godolkin.

Jackie looked pained and took a step or two to follow her but he also knew that she would want thim to be an additional guard on the youngsters. Sighing he looked back at the pair. "You two will be safe, nothings going to get through me or that shield." He nodded slightly at the faint golden shimmer that encircled them.

Red cracked her knuckles, eyeing the situation. They had arrived late to the party but so be it.

"I'll take Vlad", she threw over to Godolkin, "you take Snoopy." She pointed to the werewolf and then proceeded to move quickly to the vampire, slamming him with both fists at a charge and throwing him across the room.

The Lycan glared at her interruption and moved to attack her.

"I wouldn't", Godolkin rumbled and the Lycan turned to him as Red moved toward the stunned vampire, her own fangs showing in her unfriendly smile.

The Lycan swiped angrily at the interfering mortal but suddenly stood with a comical look of surprise as Godolkin caught his wrist in mid swing, stopping the attack with a shocking impact. Immedietly he followed with an open hand heel directly to the creatures snout that inflicted alot more damage than it should have.

Trouble follows the two of you like.

"Nice to see you too," Robert replied, swinging the weapon away from the fight. Charli looked like she had it under control, and if she hadn't, Godolkin and Red were quickly moving in. He didn't know the two, but he did know that they were capable of keeping things in check. Instead, his focus moved towards the downed were, moving in slowly, keeping the Combat Custom focused on the beast's head. He didn't quite care if he was out of the fight or hurt, he was still alive, and that made him a target.

He had heard Casca's request, and reluctantly removed the styalized knife from its sheath in his jeans. He tossed to the man, careful to make sure the handle would stay out first, reducing the risk of the man stabbing himself. It wasn't a weapon he gave up easily or with want, but then again, these were extrenuating circumstances.

As he moved forward, he kicked the dead were, sliding his foot underneath its mass, and sliding it away, leaving a trail of blood. "I fucking hate dogs," he muttered, loud enough only so that if someone wanted to hear him, they would. He kept his movement smooth, reducing the bounce in his upper body, keeping the Combat Custom trained on the downed were's head.

"I have no problem turning your head into swiss cheese, so don't move," he growled out the command. He had no doubt that the were had no desire to move, but this was not a time where one took chances.

"Nice to see you too"

Sian didn't reply to his sarcasm, but headed toward where Charli had backed against a wall to take advantage of the support it offered. "You took more than your share."

"My job, Doctor Rhys, but I think one got through to my ribs....and my shirt is ruined."

Sian snorted as she began to look Charli over "Clothes horse! Lets get you on a table so I can check you over better."

As he moved forward, he kicked the dead were, sliding his foot underneath its mass, and sliding it away, leaving a trail of blood

and behind him the 'dead' body moved ever so slightly.

"I have no problem turning your head into swiss cheese, so don't move,"

The badly burned Were just whimpered a little more, nodded, not meeting Fortiers eys. Slowly, and with obvious pain, he began to shift back into full human form.

The were snarled spitting blood and lunged awkwardly. Godokin's fist crashed against the base of it's skull, bone cracking. It wouldn't kill the Lycan but it would make him think twice. When he could gather wits again that is.

Red dodged the Vampires attack. He was fast and he was strong, but so was she, and she had experience on her side. This one apparently hadn't known fighting to much. The edge of her hand cracked into his nose with enough force to break it and shocked him slightly.

As Godolkin approached the pair the vampire glared up him and then began to back away, feeling the power of the tattoos.

"Enough", Godolkin rumbled and looked back at the were, "both of you."

The were didn't feel up to trying his hand again and was still recovering from Godolkin's blow. The vampire had no interest in testing the power of the tattooed man and simply agreed.

The vampire walked out, looking a bit chagrined, but the lycan lay where he fell, still recovering as Red and Godolkin left the locker room.

The at the box office the man was leaning against the counter. He wasn't expecting anyone else tonight, not the way the weather was. There were a handful of people milling around the lobby area, those who were getting ready to brave the storm, but not quite ready yet. He heard a low thumping sound from outside and peered intently at the shadow in the glass.

"What in hell?" he wondered and left the box office to try to get a better look. The sound was familiar, or seemed it should have been, but it just seemed out of place.

He saw what it was but it would always be a question as to if his mind had a chance to register it or not as the missiles slammed through the glass and exploded in the lobby area.

A dozen shocktroopers repeled down the ropes that were dropped and landed with dull thuds. Once the last of them were down the pilot struggled to raise the helicopter again, fighting the buffeting winds from the wind tunnel effect of the buildings, trying to reach for the sky again.

A third missile shot forward, detonating against the mural on the far side. Cursing the pilot deactivated the missile mounts and continued his struggle.

The troopers entered the shattered front of the building and scanned the area. Each one had the same thought in mind. 'Priority one - capture and return the blasphemy. Priority two - Retire the traitor Godolkin.' But tact was never thier strong suit and they opened fire on anyone that moved. Three men and Five women went down in thier assault, some of the few survivors of the initial missile strikes. They spread out, to prevent any potential explosives from damaging them all and began moving through the lobby area.

Red and Godolkin heard the muted roar as they exited the locker room and looked at one another.

"Fuck me", Red uttered, "I knew I should have left before this, I KNEW it."

"Mistress, there might be another explanation."

"COME ON!! We BOTH know that sound, we've HEARD it often enough!!" she replied.

They both began looking around, trying to track the location of the sound.

The three missile strikes made even the hardened building shake and boom in structural agony. Any one who'd spent time in the miliary or a war zone knew those sounds. Charlie jerked up right, for while she hadn't spent time in either she did know the sounds of explosions in general. "What the shit?" She gasped and folded back against the wall, the sudden movement having caused the broken rib to nearly pierce her lung. The pain spiked through her but she knew somethow that she didn't have any time to pay attention to it.

Sian looked up startled and bewhildered. "What's happened? Has there been a lightning strike on the building?" It was a logical question as the generators powering the lights momentarily flickered but then remained on.

Jackie was more certain as to what it was "We're under attack. And we need to hit the Armory." He called to Sian as he wanted to get Scott and his sister away from elevator doors that might open to reveal enemies at any moment. If whomever was hitting them had high explosives, his two mags of 50AE weren't likely to be enough.

"Sian drop the shield, please" Jackie called and Sian did so quickly. Once it was down he motioned to the two to follow him as he moved into a more protected area.

The south wall of the building...Ground Level....

The massive glass structure blew outwards in a lethal rain of thick glass. The people on the ground level died even before the Shock Troopers rappelled down, the blast and pressure wave killing them wholesale, though some did not die instantly, but under the withering fire of the Shock Troopers Mini Guns.

Lights flickered and returned to normal as the building groaned and reverberated in response to the threee strikes.

Those on the Main Level, some sixty feet about ground level...those still enjoying the music and drinks cried out in shock and fear as the building reeled about them. Tables and chairs fell over, some of the lighting fixtures crashed to the floor, and many of the glass bottles on the display shelves behind the bain bar toppled and broke.

One of the bartenders was of the quickness of wit, as the ripsaw sound of the mini guns came up clearly from the ground floor, to press the hidden emergency button, one that would summon all the onsight security to the Main Level.

Ryan blinked when he heard the sounds of a missile, caught slightly flatfooted by the fact that he was beginning to relax slightly. Hearing the fire of gun fire, re-activated him so to speak, and he was on his feet and his gun out in a second. Looking at the waitress, he commented in a calm voice, "Unless you're expecting gun-totting guests or can deal with them, I'd advise finding somewhere to hide."

Walking over to the half-wall, he looked down at the ground floor level. What he saw there caused his eyes to widen in shock. The armour they were wearing was remarkably similar to his own torso armouring, and that raised a number of questions that he did not have the answers to. He frowned, as he knew from personal experiance that the armour was tough, and from the way these guys moved, it spoke of strong, mean and nasty.

He flicked the safety off of his pistol, as he contemplated what to do. Looking down, he saw someone get cut down by the attackers chain-guns. His civy armour probably wouldn't stand up to any sustained blasts. Deciding to heck with it, he took careful aim at one of the rearmost attackers and squeeze off two .40S&W. He'd generally found when he worked against Vampires and Weres, or actually he'd probably been up against Lycan and Rodius, that even those who could take a couple rounds to the head weren't in a shape to protest for a while.

Casca caught the knife, and before it touched his hand, he knew what it was. How many times must this mother-f#$!er return to me?!? He took it, and gave the Imitoran a hard look. "You and I need to have a talk before we part ways. I'd rather not have this, but I'm not at a point to complain, so I'll use it till we get out of this mess."

The locker room mess seemed to have been barely diffused when the missiles hit. As the muffled sounds of the missiles came down, followed quickly by the alarms, Casca glanced at his new-found counterpart. "I think we could save introductions. You're Black Ops, Imitoran, and that isn't a question. Care to go with me and play with the new team that seems all too eager to join in our little sport?"

When the world finally stopped shaking, Ali leapt to her feet, drawing a knife from under her clothes as she did so. Something was going on in this place, and she didn't like it one bit. "That was NOT just an earthquake," she muttered, looking around, scanning the room both with her eyes and her mind.

It was chaos. Absolute chaos. Tables and chairs were overturned, food and drink spilled everywhere, and the other people in the bar seemed as confused as she was. Almost immediately, she threw up mental shields to block her mind from the overwhelming waves of fear she sensed from all around the building.

The Sidhe wandered slowly around the room, looking for anything or anyone that might explain what had just happened. Finding nothing, she opened a tiny hole in her shields and sent out a telepathic message to anyone in the nearby vicinity who could pick it up: What the HELL was that?!

The detonations of the three missiles were heard down on the level where Sian and the others were, but not the sounds of the miniguns. The structure had been built to be an old fashioned bomb shelter and was fearsomely stout.

However the strident sound of the alarm sounding in the armory and it's attached security office were clearly audible. However there were only two security personel in the office the this time. they began pulling on their tactical vests with out hesitation.

"I have a no limits card." Charli fished her key card out of her pants pocket and held it out. "Anything in the armory you want."

Before she could say more the lighting flickered again and went into brown out mode, leaving the lights at only half strength and shutting down all heavy draw equipment, encluding the elevators.

"Damn, now we're going to have a hard time getting out of here."

"No we're not." Sian interupted briskly as she took the card and tossed it to Fortier. "Armor up! I beleive thats what they say - then I'll 'port us out of here."

What the HELL was that?!

Voices battered back at Ali, each shouting with raw panick, none adequently coherent enough to be understood. The mental voices were a severe and unpleasant jolt that left Ali's mind ringing and her mental shields worn thin.

Then with blessed relief a strong, calm voice muted the others, overriding them, and calming them at the same time.

What level are you... Sian's mind nodded to it'self as she slid into the opening in Ali's shields. Those were huge explosions. Car bombs? ...Pardon me Without waiting for permission Sian looked through Ali's eyes, heard through her ears. Not car bombs, but the opening salvo fa an assault. Child of Daana I'd suggest that you find a seecure place and hide this out. A knife will not help you I think. That buzzsaw noise is some sort of high tech machine gun I'd guess Then Sian was withdrawing from Ali's mind with the barest of apologies.

"Red, Godolkin, Mr. Fortier, Mr. Longinius -it seems to be an assault, not just a bombing, the weapons are clearly audible." She reached out and let their minds hear what she had heard though Ali's ears, though she bounced off of Casca's shields aand that earned him a small glare. "I'm sorry I'm not that knowledgeable about high tech weapons, and I didn't want to force my contact into danger, but the assaliants seem to be on the ground level for the moment. With the elevators out, they can only go up. To the Main Level, where most of the patrons are. We can't let them be killed."

"Mind if I grab my shirt first?" Casca headed back into the locker room, managed to pry his locker open, and got his shirt out, along with his coat. He put the sirt one, but would wait on the coat. The others he had just met would probably have plenty of questions to ask him regarding his scars, but that could be postponed. He headed back, after this Fortier guy, and decided to follow the wierd lady's advice by grabbing some armor for himself. As he passed the psionic, he gave a qiuck word, "I take it you know who I am, right?"

Loki barely had a chance to get another word out before several others seemed to appear out of nowhere, apparently familiar with the two men standing beside him and those inside the locker room, turning the it into a warzone.

From initial glances he could tell the red haired woman was a vampire, her rather nasty looking fangs evident as she moved into the locker room along with what could be described as a mountain of muscle on legs, not far behind.

Within minutes the whole ordeal was over, a sense of calm returning to the area once again whilst Loki looked around, noting the presence of several more people and two kids. None of them were familiar to him in the slightest and this whole thing was somewhat confusing.

Finally with everyone settled down a bit, Loki was about to pose his question once again to anyone that would be kind enough to answer. Unfortunately he never got a chance as the building was rocked by several explosions, adding further to the chaos and confusion he'd just encountered.

Whatever was going on, the people around him appeared to have some idea of how to deal with the situation and so Loki decided it would be best to stick with them for the ride, however bumpy it may be.

"I could use something with a little more punch than a knife..."

Casca grabbed some of the tactical gear available. Standard issue S.W.A.T. gear, reliable, but common, and there were better things available. Still, as he had learned firt-hand, when in Rome...

"So your name is Fortier? Is that what you prefer to be called, or should I refer to you by something else. Casey, by the way, and how many years have you been in the Imitoran service?"

With the armoury open, Loki didn't hesitate to enter after the heavily scarred man and begin browsing the collection of weapons and combat gear, picking out what caught his eye.

Noting the armour, Loki quickly removed his shirt and jacket to reveal his rather fit upper body and knife strapped to his belt as he strapped on the body armour. There was no point wearing armour that was visible, then one's opponents would simply go for a head shot.

Replacing his shirt, Loki went over the other weapons available and picked out an H&K MP5, along with several clips. He didn't have a lot of experience with guns but during his time in America he'd learned how to operate an MP5 rather well and figured it would best suite him.

Another quick look around resulted in Loki taking a holster and clipping it to his belt, promptly filling it with a Browning HP PRO 9 and grabbing several more clips. Whilst not the most powerful gun out there, considering it was only a 9mm, it was another weapon Loki was familiar with and hence felt comfortable using.

"Alright, I'm good to go."

"Could some one get some armor for Charli, I'm going to tape her ribs, but I think the added support would be better" Sian called out and Jackie called back a reply that he's get it to her.

"Sure Lainy, coming right up and some for you as well" He wasn't going to risk her any more than necessary, though he knew he couldn't stop her.

She asked Charli her locker number in a low voice, then looked at Scott and Kristy, knowing they might feel better if they had something to do. "Could you get Charli's card key from Jackie and go get her some clean clothes from her locker? It's number 25 in the ladies locker room."

Jackie mean while helped himself to a MP5 as well and grabbed several extra clips for both it and his Desert Eagle. With the requested armor over his shoulder he headed back to Sian.

Casey donned the armor, adjusted the straps expertly and efficiently, then put his coat over the armor. He noticed the other, an Aussie by his voice, do the same but with his shirt. "As I said, name's Casey. You look like you've been around a little. What can I call you." As he waited for the replay, Casey grabbed a Desert Eagle, along with two H&K MP10s. He grabbed extra clips for each, and seperated them, strapping a few onto his belt where he had the room to do so. He loaded each gun, then offered his old spear-head back to Fortier. "I think you should hold onto this, it will do you more good than it has ever done for me."

Fortier accepted the knife back, and resheathed it. He didn't care what sort of power it held, if the sounds were matching what he thought, then he wasn't gonna get close enough to get a knife. He had only fired one round, leaving one in the chamber, and 10 more in the magazine, plus another magazine of 12 ready to rock. It was times like these that he was glad to be playing with hollow point rounds. A .50GI round could mess things up enough, but the added devistation of the hollowpoint only made things more fun.

You're Black Ops, Imitoran, and that isn't a question. Care to go with me and play with the new team that seems all too eager to join in our little sport? So your name is Fortier? Is that what you prefer to be called, or should I refer to you by something else. Casey, by the way, and how many years have you been in the Imitoran service?

"Well, my operators call me boss man, Capt. Fortier, or Six. You ain't one of my operators, so Rob will do for now."

He entered the armory, and grabbed a light kevlar lined LBV. He pulled it on over his polo, and snapped the edges closed, giving him full abdominal protection. He would of looked for something bigger, but the sounds transmitted to him from the psionic had sounded distinctly small arm, nothing more than a nine millimeter round if he had to put money on it, and the rate of fire sounded nothing impressive.

He looked at Cassey's selection, an MP5/10, and shook his head. "Its gonna take more than that," he said, and looked at the wall quickly, till he saw his choice. The normally large weapon was cut down a bit, with a slightly shorter barrel and collapsable stock. However, the magazine was still full sized, and showed clearly that it was a big round. The red dot sight mounted on the upper rail would help with target acquisition in the fire fight, so he reached up and grabbed the DS Arms FN FAL copy, designed for use with SWAT teams, still carrying the 7.62 NATO round. He grabbed a hand full of magazines, stuffing one in each pocket of his jeans, and two for each pocket on the LBV, walking away with eight in all.

He then filled the three pistol pouches with two magazines each of .50GI magazines, all based on the 1911 frame. He looked back at Cassey.

"Little over thrity years, and I prefer the term Special Operations to Black Ops. Lead the way."

"We are the Strange Folk, the Night Life, and I'm sorry that you had to see some of us getting out of control."

"Out of control? Nice way to put it!", Scott yelled sarcastically, as he looked back at the scene of the supernatural brawl. Immediately, he was left incredulous as he saw Carrot Top and Brutus took the mickey out of the remaining vampire and werewolf, as if it was nothing.

Whoa. I'm in some dangerous company here. This is bad. This is very, very bad.

"You two will be safe, nothings going to get through me or that shield."

"Nothing's safe with you people around!", Scott retorted to Bad Boy, coming dangerous close to hysterics at this point. His sister had already reached that point, paralysed with fear and unable to do anything except shiver as she clung to her brother. Werewolves, vampires, telepaths, it was all getting too much for the siblings, and now Scott was really starting to regret ever having anything to do with them in the first place. Shoulda known there was a catch in there somewhere.....

In a matter of seconds, the brawl had been broken up by Brutus and Carrot Top, and now Scott had a chance to observe the newcomers to the scene. One of the werewolves were a goner, a slug to the head by some guy with a big gun; Mr. Heavyarms, no doubt. And there was Glowing Lady, apparently the one who put those burn marks on one of the unlucky dogs. As well as one other guy with them, with quite a few scars on his body; that would be Scarface, although Scott wasn't sure if he really had a scar on his face. All in all, it all looked like bad news, and he sure didn't want to be a part of it more than necessary.

"That's it", Scott started, pulling Kristy with him, away from Bad Boy. "I'm out of here-"

He didn't get a chance to finish, as the building suddenly shook with several dull roars. Kristy's scream pierced his ear; reacting from instinct, Scott went to the floor, dragging his hysterical sister with him. Lots of yelling ensued; the people around him were yelling to each other, asking what was going on, and some saying that it was an attack. What kind of attack, he didn't know, but the sounds of it told Scott that it was serious. Whatever it was.

Looking up from his prone position, Kristy underneath him, Scott glared at Bad Boy, who was even now motioning for them to follow him. Is he nuts? Follow him? After all that's happening? No way, first chance I get, I'm getting that Supra, and I'm taking Kristy outta this mess!

"Kristy, c'mon, let's get the hell outta here!"

But Kristy wasn't listening; her eyes had a vacant look to them, as if she was looking at something other than the situation around them. Then just as quickly as it happened, she snapped out of it, and looked at her brother with fearful eyes.

"I thought I heard someone say something......"

"We ain't got no time for that, c'mon!"

The boy dragged his sister up to her feet, and looked around; the "Strange Folk" around him seemed to be getting something out of a room. That 'something' turned out to be what looked like body armor. And what are, unmistakably, firearms.

Crap, who ARE these people?

"Could you get Charli's card key from Jackie and go get her some clean clothes from her locker? It's number 25 in the ladies locker room."


Great, now you want me to go into the Ladies?

But he knew too there was no time for argument; with a grunt of annoyance, he dragged his still very much clueless sister to Sian, shouting "Stay there!". With that, he ran to the armory; having still had the presence of mind to see where on his body "Jackie" had put the card key, Scott didn't even bother to ask before lifting it from his person altogether; Bad Boy Jackie probably wouldn't even have known it was missing, but semantics aside, the Doc DID ask him to get it from Jackie.

With card key in hand, Scott rushed into the Ladies'; within a minute, he was out again, tossing the change of clothes Sian had requested to her. With that, he pulled Kristy up by her hand again; his sister looked up at him, still very much confused and scared by what was going on. But Scott wasn't just scared anymore; he was incensed, and all he could think of was to get out of this sorry situation.

"Hey Doc, let us outta here! I don't know what you guys are up to but I don't want no part of this!"

It's gonn take more than that.

Casey observed Rob's choice. He must have got something that Casey didn't, probably from the psionic. Sometimes he wished he could hear the telepathic communications that some could use, but he always had to recognize the touch of the psionic before he could let that person inside of his head. It had taken a long boat trip to do so with the first he had met, the old sage Shiu Lao Tze, before he he could even bring his shields down. Casey decided to go for the same gun that Rob had recently picked, but he kept the MP10s anyways, sliding them into his jacket. Always be prepared.

Casey looked back at Rob. "Under the circumstances, a pleasure to meet you. But I'll let you take the lead, I don't know what's up there yet."

Casey headed to the group that was assembling. There were two kids with them, looking scared out of their stockings, at least the girl was. They were probably siblings, based on appearances and how they acted, and the brother was trying to act brave, but he looked confused as well. The mountain and the red head had said something, something important. "I don't exactly want to be a snoop, but you did say that you recognized the sounds, and that they were coming for you. Just what is coming for you?"

With a soundless pop Sian's very complete feild medical kit appeared, then a second later came Godolkins weapons. "You're going to need those Godolkin" She called out as she began rummageing though the kit for the wide tape needed for Charli's torso.

"I thought I heard someone say something......"

Yes you did hear someone, Kristy, thats telepathy, the samw way you're 'hearing' me now, in your mind. I know it's scarey, but I'm only touching the surface of your mind, leaving the rest of it private, thats only polite. Sian sent her thoughts to Kristy, keeping her mental tone as compassionate as her voice had been earlier when she had spoken to the young girl in the parking garage. Her work on Charlie never stopped as she wrapped the pyrokenetic's torso in heavy tape.

Scott returned with the requested clothes, and Charlie accepted them with a half smile and a thank you. Some how her very frail and lacy Victoria's Secret bra had come out of the fracas unharmed, even un blood stained. But her blouse and slacks were a write off. Unabashedly she began stripping them off after Sian had finished. "Anything for the pain Doc?"

"No!" Came Sians crisp reply. Then she stopped looked at Charli and nodded slowly. "I have a feeling that this isn't a time to be inflexible. Just be aware." She pulled a hypodermic and a bottle from her kit, asked Charli her weight and filled the syringe. "Butt" and Charli bent over and took the shot in the cheek with a grimace.

"Hey Doc, let us outta here! I don't know what you guys are up to but I don't want no part of this!"

Jackie stopped Scott from saying more by tossing him a vest. "Put that on, I have one that I think will fit your sister. Can you shoot? Do you know your way around a piece?"

"I don't exactly want to be a snoop, but you did say that you recognized the sounds, and that they were coming for you. Just what is coming for you?"

Everyone looked at Red and Godolkin.

"Put that on, I have one that I think will fit your sister. Can you shoot? Do you know your way around a piece?"

"How the hell would I know? And why the question 'bout me knowing how to shoot? What are we on, a duck hunt or something?", Scott shot back, liking the idea even less and less. Is there no way out of this? "Why don't you read my mind and find out, since you're so freakin' good at it, Dr. Jean Grey? Yeah I can work a shotgun, I shot duck with my Pap. But I don't wanna be shooting duck now, I want out of here!"

But even as he continued to argue with Sian, Kristy's eyes went blank again. Then once again, she snapped out of it, and turned wide-eyed towards Sian, her hand to her open mouth. Then she tugged at Scott, panicking, but not knowing what to say.

"Kristy, I don't have time for this! We're getting out of here, stat!"

He pulled his sister up, but as far as he could tell, there was no way out of here. Not unless Jean Grey pointed it out to him, and he knew that was probably the last thing on her mind.

"Oh, crap!"

(OOC: Don't mind Scott's rudeness, he's freaked out more than he could tolerate at this point.)

then a second later came Godolkins weapons. "You're going to need those Godolkin"

Godolkin moved over to the weapons, picking up the first he hooked the belt and brought the ammo pack up, running the straps over his shoulders. The feed went to an arm band around his upper arm and the mini-gun harness went around his forearm. On done he picked up what looked like a small flame thrower and strapped it on in similar fashion.

Meanwhile Red was rifling through the weapons lockers frantically, looking for ammunition for her .44 automagnums. She either didn't hear the question or ignored it, ignored it most likely.

Godolkin smiled at Sian, "Thank you", he told her, "and if you please, I would prefer it if you called me Paladin. I think Godolkin, alone that is, is a thing of the past." He turned at the question, knowing that Red wouldn't answer. "Actually she's not sure."

"My ass", Red stated, but continued looking for ammo.

"She's assuming it's the Iconoclast" Godolkin continued.

"And I AIN'T calling you Paladin. Fucking visited by an angel my ass. More like a drug high at the hospital."

"Harrow believes it", Godolkin told her.

"Harrow believes that I'm some Saint Scarlett. Do I look like a fucking saint to you?"

Godolkin sighed, knowing this was pointless. She always got wound up like this before a fight, what counted was that she was cool under fire. It flashed through his mind again as he saw her flashing among his squad dealing death and corrected his own though. Not cool, cold as ice.

"YES!", Red shouted as she found a storage locker with Black Tallon teflon coated armor piercing rounds that for her gun. She ejected the mags from her guns and unbreached the bullets that were in there. The Lycan/Vamp hunting rounds were great for what they were made for but not much else. She slid the mags in, slapping them home and chambering a round, then looked about one last time as she slid her guns home and removed her coat to reveal the tight fighting black and red leather outfit with the plunging neck line and rather pleasant cleavage, if the situation had been different. She wore her six inch, silver stillettoed boots to go with it.

"Don't see a vest to fit ya", she told Godolkin.

He nodded, "It's alright", he told her, "are you okay?"

"Tootalin along", she told him as she looked toward the ceiling. Her British accent was a bit thicker than normal, but he didn't say anything further. He knew she would be fine once they got upstairs, whatever it was that awaited them. He refused to jump to conclusions at this point.

"Oh, crap!"

Jackie crouched down in front of Scott, keeping his tone even with an effort "Look kid, and thats just what you are - a punk kid whose scared and has every right to be. However that doesn't excuse your rudeness. No disrespecting Lainy now." He wrapped his hands around Scott's upper arms and shook him lightly, holding his attention. "What we ARE is people who aren't going to let others get killed just because someone don't like that they are different. So calm down and think. Don't go hauling off without a plan. Thats why we're standing here - we're taking a minute to get our shit together rather ratting off."

He stood and looked at Sian. "You're going to need eyes and ears up there. Let me go first and link with me." He looked over at Casey and Fortier "Both of you have me beat when it comes to a combat style firefight, but I can do things neither of you can." Darkness writhed like a living thing, cloaking him and then there was nothing where the tall man had stood.

Shaken up by Bad Boy, Scott could only glare back as the former went away. He didn't know what the other man meant by that, but what he could figure out was; they were going to be fighting against something. And like it or not, he was slowly being dragged into what he never asked for in the first place.

Well this is going to be a helluva LOOOOONG day.

"Kristy, c'mon", he said, pulling her to one side to try and keep out of everyone's way. For a while, he gaped as Bad Boy seemed to summon what looked like shadows to his person, but he quickly shook it off; it wouldn't quite surprise him now even if Bad Boy turned into Bad Ass, or something to that effect. Whatever it was, he was fairly certain that he didn't want it to be any more of his concern.

I don't really have a choice in this matter anymore, have I? The moment I tried to lift Bad Boy's stuff, I got dragged into this, and Kristy too. And it's looking like I ain't getting out of this til it's over, too. Guess I ain't got a choice no more.

"C'mon, Kristy. Let's stay outta the way."

She nodded, still very much unsure of what was happening.

"So, is this or is this not an attack by these Iconoclasts? And what the hell are these Iconoclasts, 'cause if my memory serves, then they are just some religious zealots that are part of the debate about whether or not one can worship in front of images of God. And could I get some names, since the psionic seems to well know who I am. And as far as names go, call me Casey." The Eternal Mercenary waited for the answers.

"Actually", Godolkin replied, "Iconoclasts were those who destroyed religious symbols and images that were in opposition to thier own. These Iconoclasts seek to destroy anything that doesn't meet the criteria of what is human. A bit of a different edict from the old days, but the religious war, at least in part of the church, has changed. So any night life", he said and looked over at scott, "ANY nightlife", then back to Casey, "be they mutants or fey or undead, even if they look human but have powers are targets. It's been more of a quiet war, though, which is what makes me hesitate to say these are Iconoclasts. They've struck out and killed before, yes, but not in such a populated area as this and never so openly or boldly. They've attacked and killed only when they could be certain of silencing all witnesses, killing all involved and destroying all evidence." He looked back at Scott again, "And that's men, women AND children."

"I knew about the original debate, I said so myself. Were you listening? And I didn't see anybody but the Night Life in here when I came in. Some girl took up the challenge earlier, so I know that all that is in here are night Life, plus the mundanes that know we exist. That means these Iconoclasts that you speak of in the present could very well be upstairs. Of course, our friends working for Uncle Sam could have decided that they didn't want us freaks hanging around any more. It could be a terrorist attack, albeit it does seem well planned and I know I heard rockets. How soon till Shadow Boy tells us what is going on?"

UPSTAIRS

Deciding to heck with it, he took careful aim at one of the rearmost attackers and squeeze off two .40S&W. He'd generally found when he worked against Vampires and Weres, or actually he'd probably been up against Lycan and Rodius, that even those who could take a couple rounds to the head weren't in a shape to protest for a while.

The iconoclast in question crumpled, given Ryan's advantage of surprise and upper ground. The advantage didn't last long, however, as, being the only one not running at the moment it was relatively easy to figure out who fired. Four mini guns snapped up and opened fire. Bullets slammed into the wooden rail and dangerously close to Ryan's head, but it would be less than a second before they homed in fully and the wooden railing was being quickly chewed apart as each fully autoed mini gun fired at the hundred round rate. His barrier wasn't going to last long and it wasn't safe to keep presenting himself as a target.

Half a dozen others ascended the stairs while the last continued his sweep of the lobby area and moved toward the bathrooms.

"They could be", Godolkin replied, "but I would be surprised. If they are then they've come out of hiding, and that wouldn't be a good indication. It would mean they're ready to move on with thier operations and they'll be hitting a number of targets as we speak."

Ryan flinched slightly as a shard of wood from the shattering rail cut a furrow along his temple. These nasties would put some of the best special forces or mercenaries to shame, and he disliked that. Quickly moving back from the rail, as well as preforming an L turn in case they got the bright idea to fire through the floor to try and get him.

As he checked the stairs, trying to spot the ideal exit route should the situation become unteneable. If everything went perfect he was pretty sure he'd be able to peg the attackers as they came up the stairs, but he most certainly hadn't survived by counting on things going perfectly. As such he was working on an escape route and an alternate, as well as tertiary solution consisting of jumping down to the lower floor, but that was the final solution afterall.

This reminded him of one of the missions for a Columbian 'Buisnessman' to eliminate the competition. While it was normal to eliminate the higher ups, the 'Buisnessman' had wanted the middle management gone as well, the secruity for the entire compound had been composed of rather nasty bastards. It hadn't been entirely pleasent and his suit still had a few scrapes and minor dents he still had to deal with.

As Ryan sought out his route the iconoclasts moved upward. Six of them had mounted the steps and as they neared the top one of them let loose with a purifier. As the liquid arced up it stuck to the walls and floor, burning very hot. The troopers moved upward after the area was cleared, though even they sought to avoid the flames as much as possible. The stood two abreast, the first set up had both mini-guns and purifiers. The third and lone man had a full war pack, the next set had both weapons and the last had taken out a staker. He had already staked one vampire and was looking for more vampires or Lycans to target.

The Dark arrived unnoticed by any. The club's patrons were all to busy trying to flee. Any that had travelling gifts had already left, taking those that they could with them. For those left panick and confusion ruled. The club was mostly dark, with almost no light light coming in from outside.

He closed his eyes for a moment and opened his mind to Sian Lainey? here ya go It was disorienting at first, for they had not practised this specificly. Then Sian was wraping herself around him, easing gently into his mind with a deft touch.

The smell of burning wood, paint, carpet and other less savory substances, the ripsaw sound of the miniguns, the cries and curses.

And the sight of the attackers as they came fully into view.

"Stop it both of you. It's Iconoclasts. No more time for debate."

Sian snapped out as she looked at those about her. "Any one who intends to fight, raise a hand and I'll take you with me. If you wish to bow out, step apart from the group and keep your hands down. No one will blame you."

She looked over at Scott and Kristy. There are secret places to hide. Quickly she mentally told the two how to get to the nearest strong room. There's food, water and cash kept there. I'll come get you when this is over, or if I don't come -stay there at least a two days. She turned back to the others.

"Well?"

Charli's hand was up.

Casey put his hand up. Once he was acknowledged, he began to lower his mental barriers, as Shiu Lao Tze had taught him. He worked the action, checked the chamber, then gave a nod. He was ready.

Godolkin's face turned to stone at the announcement and Red cursed in at least four different languages. Russian, German, Spanish and French to those who knew them. "Doc, you had sensed Godolkin before. Take a look around, or whatever you call the mind thing you do. There's bound to be a second squad."

Godolkin looked at Red questioningly.

"I wrote thier book, remember?" Red said in answer to the questioning look, "They'll try to cut off escape at ground level and force everyone up into a kill zone. Attacking from the top can cause confusion in the mad rush to escape. Letting them run away with nowhere to go will herd them exactly where they'll be able to kill them easily. Guess your leaders were embarrassed to tell you that a blasphemy wrote your rule book."

Ryan let out a little curse as one of of the soldiers triggered what appeared to be a napalm-thrower, something he'd heard about in the abstract, but most certainly didn't appreciate finding out that the abstract had been made real first hand. As the soldiers came up the stairs, he began to smell the stink of cooking flesh, and for a moment wondered if it was either the waitress or dancer, thought he slightly hoped it was neither. As the first two came up, he squeezed off another couple shots for each, aiming for headshots thought he didn't count on making them.

Dancing to the side he headed away from the soldiers, trying to keep a table or chair between himself and them. It was not a fear of pain or death that motivated him, but the fact that these people pissed him off for spoiling his evening of relaxation and he wouldn't mind turning thier napalm-thrower back on them. He also wondered who the hell they were that were causing so much chaos and knew he'd be in a more agreeable frame of mind once he got his proper armour on.

Sian pulled away from Jackie, stretching out different senses. Her stomach roiled as she sensed more coming an on their level, though they's have to tear the place down to find the secret ways into the level where they now stood.

She looked at Fortier and Casca. "You two are our combat specialists. Split our forces? Some of us could hit second group from here, get them from behind as they move past" She waved a hand at the concealed door that Rob had gone though earlier - the door that She, Jackie, Red, Godolkin, Scott and Kristy had come through shortly afterwards. "There a batttery powered over ride. No enough to make it useable as an elevator, but to get behind them."

She'd leave the choice to those who had the expertise, but she had the feeling that staying together was probably the best...and the new group would have to wear themseves out getting to the ground floor. A climb of nearly sixty feet up the maintence ladder inside the cylindrical elevator tubes out front would have to be at least some what tiring...

UPSTAIRS ....

Aware that at least someone on this level the troopers weren't taken by surprise and reacted as fast as Ryan, moving to the sides and bringing the mini-guns to bear, forcing him to move or be shot and fouling his aim somewhat. To Ryan's credit, however, he did score a hit in the shoulder of one which would prevent him from using the purifier, not that he had that weapon out at the moment. The other one took a grazing shot that while painful wouldn't hinder him to much. Worse than that, though, was that they seemed not to react very much to the pain. The grazed one didn't seem to notice at all while the other grunted and grimaced but kept the mini-gun sweeping in his direction.

While they didn't have finesse, they did have firepower. Unfortunetly they didn't care where it hit and any bodies that got in the way were ripped into by the rapid fire weapons. And worse, the rest were getting onto the same level and there were still five others in the lobby.

"Sixty foot climb," Casey said. "Ropes. That should slow them down. Splitting the group does give us one thing that we could use, the element of surprise, but we could also use their fatigue. Personally, I am for taking them one at a time, and if possible, setting up some type of barricade or trip wire that could slow down the second group. We may have to blow the stairs once we get there."

Casey turned to the red-head. "You said you worte their book. What formations do they use? Staggered, block, scramble, line, or spread? And what types of weapons do they carry, and who has which?"

After finishing and checking her weapons again Red looked up at Sian, "Oh yeah, and count me in", she said, holding up a fist.

Godolkin snorted, "Now there's a surprise", he said. "I'll assist all I can Doctor" he replied.

Red snorted, "Now there's a surprise", she retorted, grinning, more back into her old, and sometimes irriatating, form.

"As I said, name's Casey. You look like you've been around a little. What can I call you."

With all his gear sorted out, Loki looked up to the man beside him and flashed him a somewhat mischievous grin, an expected trait for one of his name.

"I'm Loki and whilst I've been around a bit, I'm not exactly used to running into a bunch of people and gearing up in order to fight some unknown enemy..."

Following Casca and Fortier outside, Loki kept silent and simply tried to take in everything he could. By the looks of things everyone appeared to have their own 'talents', which didn't really surprise him at all. What really ate away at him was who the hell was attacking the building and why.

"Stop it both of you. It's Iconoclasts. No more time for debate."

Iconoclasts. This confirmation didn't help Loki one bit. All he could gauge from the conversation was that they were bad and taking them down would be no easy feat.

Despite not knowing what he would be up against, Loki raised his hand to indicate he would help out however he could. Whether it was an overwhelming sense of moral duty to help everyone else or simply the desire for a fight, Loki couldn't tell.

"Before we do go charging into this mess, mind telling me what the hell these Iconoclasts are? I see some of you may be familiar with 'em but I'm not exactly used to running around exploding buildings."

"And that's men, women AND children."

Great. Just fucking great. Am I NEVER going to get a break around here?!, Scott thought with not a small amount of frustration, as he glared back mutely at Brutus. So whatever the hell was making all that racket around here were out to kill, and he and Kristy weren't safe just because they're of less than legal age? And I thought the lynch squad back home was bad.

"Oh, that's real nice", Scott retorted, frowning deeply at this new conundrum. "So what you're saying is that you guys got your own lynch squads to deal with, and they're packing more than shotguns? Nice. Real nice", he finished with a strong tone of sarcasm. So much for Carrot Top telling me that the lynch squad after me and Kristy are going to get a world of hurt.

There are secret places to hide. There's food, water and cash kept there. I'll come get you when this is over, or if I don't come -stay there at least a two days.

Kristy stared at Sian again, and so did Scott, but they weren't panicking at her voice sounding in their heads anymore; Scott had long since stopped being surprised at anything, and Kristy too, though she was more comforted by the sound of Sian's soothing voice than being stout of heart enough to take bad news at face value. On the other hand, her brother merely nodded, his mind churning with a dozen different options all at once, and fixating on the new one that Jean Grey had given him.

"Right.......", Scott merely replied in an impassive tone, nodding steadily. This was his chance to get Kristy out of this mess, and he wasn't about to let it pass up. Still, he had questions. "And after two days, what? I don't know my way round here, lady. You gotta tell me how to get out of this mess if you don't come back, y'know."

(OOC: Shal, is there a way from the strongroom to where the main scene of the battle will be?)

Fortier looked around the room at the others.You've got to be kidding me, he thought. These people think its a fucking game.

You two are our combat specialists. Split our forces? Some of us could hit second group from here, get them from behind as they move past?

"You want the down to earth, honest advice here? We run. Its simple. First rule is to save your own hide, then we worry about the others. We have absolutely no advantage in this fight. They have the element of suprise, overwhelming firepower, strength, positioning, the works. We're gonna go upstairs, and the betting money is we are gonna get worked over pretty good."

The outlook wasn't good, but Fortier never had the problem of sugar coating anything. It was part of the training, from day one they tought Imitoran Marines to think of the worst case scenario. He had no problem laying that out for these people, this wasn't a movie or a game where the heros could pull a John Woo and dive across an open floor, firing two handguns wildly, yet still managing to hit someone.

But then Charli raised her hand, and Fortier sighed. He promised to watch her back, and so he would stay.

"840BC. A Spartan army of three hundred men held of the Persian army, numbering around 250,000. The held the pass at Thermopolis best they could, fighting to the last man. Nifty stuff."

"Listen, Sain, your the big psi or whatever, right? Then why don't you stop wasting time, and go to the elevators. We know they have to come up that way, so lets make it has hard as they can to get up those shafts. Bring down the elevator cars, crunch doors, do all that good shit. Make baricades. I doubt anyone in this room has any claymores on them, so we can't set any of those up for slowin' them down. After that, you take those two kids, and get the hell outa here."

"Here's the situation. Its the rock and the hard place, and the rock is moving to get us. All we can do is slow them down, and we can try to take the one's upstairs out. We have to split up into smaller groups, and keep spread open. Dispersion is the key, give them less chances to take out more than one person with en masse fire."

He looked back the way he came down with Charli, through the elevators, and ran a few thoughts through his head. "Listen, those private elevators. They have to have a backup stair case." He slung the rifle over his shoulder, to free his hands to explain the idea. "Some of us have to hump it up above the current attacking force in the club, some of us just the main level. I remeber seeing the bar, that would be one hell of a cover point. Its big enough for three or four of us to get down and use it has cover, and if its even half way decently made, it'll stop low cal rounds, which I got is what they are shooting."

He put his finger tips together, holding both hands at a vertical, horizontal angle, and continued to explain. "Its a V-shapped field of fire, getting hit from the top and bottom. I don't care how smart or how good of soldier's they are, they will get stuck, and have to make a choice, up or down. We can split them that way."

Ryan was most certainly not happy with, and also most certainly impressed by the skills, speed and general toughness of the nasty bastards. Thier damnable mini-guns were forcing him to keep moving rather than striking back like he'd prefere. As he dove and rolled to get a couple overturned tables between him and them, he decided that it might not have been the wisest thing to blow the brains out of the first soldier.

As they continued to pour firepower in his direction, he frowned as they were so very dangerous, but so very unprofessional, kind of like a two year old with a machine gun. As a round thudded into his chest plate while he moved toward an escape route, he winced, a few more of those and he'd be having lead for breakfast. Rolling to the side, he fired off a few more rounds, trying to put a few more into prema-sleep.

Red looked at Fortier and then down, seeming to mull something over before replying.

"Look, maybe your right. You guys can run and Godolkin and I will hold them as long as possible. These guys are after me anyway, no point in everyone dying here. We'll get out if we can, it's not my desire to die. They've come to 'retire' me. But they're pension plan sucks."

She looked at Scott, "Remember I told you the badasses after you would be in a world of hurt? Well these are the badasses that are after me."

She sighed and looked around, "The Iconoclasts are genetically engineered soldiers. Denser bones and muscle and greater muscle mass as well. Better than average reflexes and heavy firepower, like he noted", she said, nodding toward Fortier. "They're programmed with the knowledge they need to fight when they're born. Or whatever you call it."

"I was one of them", Godolkin rumbled standing there with his mini-gun and purifier. "I entered service six years ago. That's when I was ... born", he looked at Red, "As you put it Mistress. But they also have metal mesh shirt and pants and honcombed plastisteel torso armor as well as the weapons you see here."

Red glanced around warily, not sure how everyone would take the news that the man in thier midst was once one of the very men who were now attacking.

UPSTAIRS....

The area was beginning to thin out and troopers, rather than waste all their ammunition were beginning to switch off shooting at Ryan. With fewer distraction he was becoming more and more the center of attention and the troopers had the advantage of superior numbers and firepower. Even Ryan could tell that if something didn't happen soon then he was going to run out of options in just another minute or two. And to make matters worse, when he could catch a glimpse of the two he had wounded, it looked as though they were healing already and some of the shots he fired had hit thier torso armor and the bullets seemed to stop it pretty effectively.

On the lobby level they had searched everywhere by now and the remaining five began moving up the staircase to join those above.

I was one of them.

Casey's eyebrows went up, but he didn't say a word. He knew of the recent technologies that was supposed to pave the way for genetically modified humans, a prospect that, based on the big guy's words, was now factual. For him to have rejected his encoded programming was an impressive feat. "Look, far as you say, they can be killed. Anybody have grenades, or explosive rounds? I can use that just as easily. Old trick I learned in 'Nam. Otherwise, I'm with Rob's plan. Without anything that can be detonated, We have to slow them down or stop them. But yeah, it would be best to run, yet I won't."

Sian nodded at Fortier as he made his suggestion and she projected her next actions into the minds about her. Invisible forces played around the pair of elevator tubes and they crumpled explosively.

Above on the Main Levle Jackie's eyes widened in surpize and it took an effort not to yelp. Lainey? The Elevators just imploded He had been snapping those that he could without being noticed and sending them to safety. He would wait for the others before beginning any attacks.

Sian answered affirmatively to him as she looked at Fortier. "Done. Now I had thought the stage might be the best place to 'port a group this large. I'd prefer not to kill any one by materializing them inside something. And a single aport is less tiring."

"Look, maybe your right. You guys can run and Godolkin and I will hold them as long as possible

Charli answered definitievly "I'm not running. My mother may have spent her life running and hiding and she taught me how real well. But I'm not my mother" She gasped slightly as her taped ribs protested the vehemence of her declaration. "I'm a pyrokenetic. I can, and will, find out if they can take the heat."

Red glanced around warily, not sure how everyone would take the news that the man in thier midst was once one of the very men who were now attacking.

Sian gave Red a look "He's not one of them any more, between you , me and the Angel we made sure of that."

Its big enough for three or four of us to get down and use it has cover, and if its even half way decently made, it'll stop low cal rounds, which I got is what they are shooting."


I can put us up to the Main Level, in three groups, Fortier. You, Red and Godolkin behind the bar, it is soundly constructed as I remember. I could put Casca and ..." She looked over at the stranger, Loki, who's name she hadn't gotten "My apologies sir, I have forgotten to introduce myself. Quickely she did so and got his name in return "Loki.. in the alcove that the private elevator opens in to. Its an L shaped area, and they could fire from that cover."

"And I and Charli could take the west side." She visualized the Main Level of the building in their minds.

http://www.atddm.com/cains2b.gif

Ryan was beginning to think that blowing holes in that first soldier had not been an entirely wise decision as he just barely avoided getting a round thought his skull. They were co-ordinated, fast, far too heavily armed and unpleasently armoured. He was figuring that the most likely to succeed method of escape was to wait till they were all on this floor, then leaping down to the lower floor and heading to his rented room to get properly equiped to deal with the bastards.

Rolling to the side, he squeezed off a couple more rounds and figured he was on the nearly through the pistol's magazine which caused him a bit of consertation considering his other magazine was composed of 9mm rounds which judging on the toughness of the damnable bastards, would likely feel like pin-pricks rather than punching holes in them.

UPSTAIRS....

Rolling and firing as he came to a crouch gave Ryan a lower trajectory and the shots slammed into one of the troopers leg. The impact tore into muscle and the heavily equiped man went down. Now he had a choice, give the kill shot to the exposed head and risk the wrath of the two troopers leveling thier mini-guns at him or dive back and into the ante room to the men and women's bathroom.

Elsewhere the staker fired and a Lycan went down.

Red rolled her eyes the mention of the angel and she snorted. But Godolkin had changed, even she admitted that, but the angel and paladin thing were just to much.

"Have gun will travel, reads the card of a man,
A knight without armor in a savage land", she quipped.

"What are you talking about?", Godolkin asked her.

"Dont' worry about it, you wouldn't know and I don't have time now to explain. Well if your all going, I'm ready", she stated.

"Ready", Godolkin replied, bringing up the mini-gun.

"Loki, stay close and watch what you do. If you have any type of offensive powers, use them. Your grip tells me that guns aren't your first area of expertise, and that you don't need them. Remember, you're the one watching my back, and vice versa, so I need to know what I can expect from you."

Loki, stay close and watch what you do. If you have any type of affensive powers, use them.

That mischievous grin appeared once again as Loki turned to Casey. Seemingly out of nowhere a slight breeze blew around the group, ruffling some hair but otherwise not doing anything of significance.

"Let's just say these Iconoclasts will be toughing the elements, amongst other things."

Whilst it seemed odd for him to be so easy going in the current situation, that was Loki's way of dealing with it. He rarely appeared to be very serious, yet things were quite different inside, where most people couldn't read.

"I'll certainly do what I can."

Fortier held in the sigh. He wasn't suprised, it was always the luck of the draw that he would get stuck with the two people that the enemy was after. He unslung the rifle, grabbing the forward receiver as opposed to the flashlight and attached pistol grip, and looked over at Red.

"Just try not to get me killed," he said, adjusting his stance. He tugged the rifle in, glancing down to make sure the reddot was sighted in properly, and looked over at Sian.

"Ready whenever you are sweet heart."

"Remember I told you the badasses after you would be in a world of hurt? Well these are the badasses that are after me."

Oh, great. NOW you tell me, Scott thought. In his mind though, a debate was starting to rage, and it was starting to give him a real headache. So I'm not the only one? Me and Kristy, we're not the only ones being hunted? That's......!


"I was one of them".

At that, Scott's head whipped around to face Brutus, wide-eyed. "So what you're saying is, we're facing a bunch of gorillas just like you are?", he shot off his mouth, so surprised that he forgot about manners altogether. "And they've got your kind of stuff, too?"

Kristy was looking more and more scared by the moment, but there was also a new look in her eyes. One that was missed altogether by her brother, but she wasn't shivering quite as hard now; a noticable change. Meanwhile, Scott was still shooting his mouth off. "Damned, that's a heck of a lynch squad. What are you guys, the big prize?"

A bunch of super freaks, and a super lynch squad out to get them. He was utterly clueless as to what was going on, but Scott decided he had had enough. "C'mon, Kristy! Let's get outta here!", he yelled, pulled her hand as he made his way to the strong room Jean Grey had indicated for them. But even as he was rushing away from the group, thoughts churned through his mind.

Am I doing the right thing? Is this what I'm doing......really the right thing to do? I mean, I'm scared of these guys. But come to think of it, they don't seem so bad. At least Jean Grey's good enough not to haul me to the slammer, and that's not to mention she said she'll give me and Kristy a place to stay, too. Not that that has happened, but........somehow, I don't think she's lying. I don't know. I thought I could not trust anyone anymore, but.......why do I feel I can trust her? And all these guys? Even though they're........

Even though they're freaks. Just like me. And Kristy. We're.......we're the same after all. Aren't we? We're all in the same situation, those guys have lynch squads after them too......

He felt a tug on his hand. Then a solid pull, preventing him from going any further. And when he looked back, it was Kristy pull at his hand. Standing her ground, with a determined look on her face. A look Scott had not seen for a while. Not since three months ago.

"Kristy, what're you doing?! We have to get out of here!"

She shook her head, and her jaw was set.

"Kristy, c'mon!"

She shook her head again.

"C'mon, I don't have time for this-"

"Are you going to just run away?!"

She shouted at him. She had not shouted at her brother for a long, long time. And Scott was suitably stunned; the last time Kristy had shouted at him like that was, well......never. She had always been such a good little sister, always doing what he told her, and never did give him any trouble. Even before the whole world came crashing down on them, she had always been the best little sister a boy could ask for, but now she was rebelling against him. And as Scott looked back at her, he saw that she was not just meek little Kristy anymore; there was an arguably brave look on her face, although she was still very much afraid, with tears streaking down her face. Like there was a point she had been wanting to make for a long time, and only now, did she let herself go.

"They're......they're gonna DIE, Bro!"

"And so will we if we don't get the hell outta here!"

"But......at least they're fighting back!"

"......"

"They want to live, Bro. They're......they're not running away. And, that lady was nice, Bro. I, I don't want them to die."

"......"

Me neither, Sis. But......the whole lot of them. They scared the bejesus out of you, and they scared the bejesus out of me, too. But......they're just human after all, aren't they? They're not so different from us. In fact, we're just like them. We ARE them. What Jean Grey is offering us......it's not our old life back, Kristy. We're never going to get that back now. But what she's offering is a fresh start. For us, Kristy. She's not just offering food and board, is she? She's offering a new life for us. You could go to school again, Kristy. You need never worry about your next meal again. You could live like any other kid your age. Okay, maybe not entirely, but close enough. But, we could be with others like us. In fact......we could be a family again. Like it should have been.

He looked up at his sister, and this time, she was looking back at him with an expectant gaze. Like she knew what he was about to decide.

Thank you, Kristy, my precious little sister. I know what to do now.

He nodded. "Alright, sis. I'm.......I'm gonna go see what I can do. As for you, go to the strongroom.

A wave of panic passed over Kristy's face, and she clung to his arm even tighter. "But.....but......no! Don't leave me alone!"

What was it you said, Jean Grey? Don't leave my sister to fend for myself, even for a short while? Yeah, I think that's about right. Damned you women, you all are a troublesome lot. But hell, I hate to admit it, but you're.......you're right. I can't leave Kristy alone anymore. Not like that. Even if I don't like it. Because she IS safer with me than without me.

He sighed, then nodded. "Alright, c'mon. Just keep outta the way of danger, you hear me?!"

She didn't reply, but nodded and beamed.

____________________________________________________________________________

"Alright, Miss Grey."

And just before they were about to proceed with their plan, the kids were back. The brother, with his sister behind him. But the Halliwell children had a different countenance to them now; the sister, while still hiding behind her elder brother, wasn't shaking anymore, and now she actually looked like her real self, instead of the quaking shell she had become. And as for Scott himself, there was something definitely different about him. For his usually brown eyes were giving off a dim green glow, and inscribed on his forehead was a glowing symbol.

The glowing symbol of Taurus, the Bull.

He punched a fist into his other palm, and with that, a minor shockwave ensued from him, shaking the ground around them, if only just a little. But it was enough to tell everyone just what he was capable of. If he could put his mind down to it.

"I know we started off on the wrong foot here", he began, his eyes looking for Bad Boy, and he was somewhat surprised that for some reason, he wasn't there. "And to be honest, I'm still a little freaked. But I'm not about to just see y'all get shot to pieces without doing something about it. And besides", he continued, looking at Jean Grey, "I've got more questions I need answers to, and seems like I won't be finding them anywhere else."

He punched his open palm again, setting off another minor shockwave, with a grim expression on his face. "I'll do what I can, although I don't know how much that is. Just......", he hesitated, then looked back at Jean Grey. "Just help me keep my sister safe, yeah? I don't know what I'll do if I lose her."

"Enough with the shockwaves, kid, we felt it the first time." Casey closed his eyes. He gathered his Chi. Performing the ancient breathing exercises, he began to calm himself. Of course, he already was calm, but he needed to be one with himself, emotionless, clear headed. His breathing slowed. His heart rate lowered. His reflexes would build. Difficult situations called for difficult solutions. Those decisions were best made with a clear head. His weapons were ready. He was ready. "Alright Sian, we've spent enough time here talking. We know where they're coming from. We have an idea of their fire-power and their numbers. The odds are against us. But odds don't spell defeat. If we do this, better do it soon."

The club above was chaos as the staff and patrons tried to flee the caranage the Iconoclasts were causeing. It has been a slow night, what with the hurricanes approach and the easing out out of the Mundanes. But that still left well over three hundred of the Night Life. But most of the Night Life, the Strange Folk, were not skilled in combat, nor were their Gifts, their abilities, necessarily assets to any fray. Though some fought back as best they could it simply wasn't good enough. Stakes didn't do more than hurt Were's but took time to recover from, and fire burned all. Every Vampire in the ground level private club was fleeing via exits designed solely for those with a Vampires abilities. The Were's hidden club on the supposedly 'non existant' second level had been mostly empty as they had taken concelealed stairs up to the Main Level to view the Challenge earlier. Those that had stayed in the private club were on their cell phones speading the word of the attack, giving out what little information they had - to whit that some one had struck the club with explosives and they could hear sounds of gunfire and smell the scents of much death. But almost all of Houston's combat experienced Night Life weren't even in town.

And the Iconoclasts mystical tattoos kept the Were's and Vamps that had been up on the Main Level from being able to effectively attack them, though many tried. The cougar and her father lay still and bloody not to far distant from one another...More bodies were heaped in random piles...

However thrown chairs, and tables didn't seem to phase the attackers too greatly, and they simply dodged them and went on laying down withering fire.

Below

"Ready whenever you are sweet heart."

Just help me keep my sister safe, yeah? I don't know what I'll do if I lose her."

"If we do this, better do it soon."

Lets bring it on Charli's grin was feral.

Sian nodded and made one last quick contact with Jackie letting him know what they were about to do. She gnawed on her lower lip though as she looked at Scott and Kristy. She wondered if their parents knew how fine a pair of young people they had raised.

Jackie they want to come... Her thoughts on the adviseability of that most uncertain

Lainy, I was younger than he when I did my first hit

but... She protested in the privacy of their communication, revealing to him alone who exhausted she was and how uncertain of her ability to keep them safe.

Rite of Passage - Don't take his choice from him. Just do your best to keep them and every one you can safe. I know you're tired now and going to be exhaused, but I also know you can and will do it, Lainy. When you all get up here I am going to unleash some Darklings. May not be much more than a distraction but they might create enough havock to be helpful Jackie's Darklings had once been much more powerful but even as they were now they could still be of some use.

They were every monster under the bed, or in the closet, made manifest in a foot high scrawny humanoid figure that was all gowing eyes, razor sharp claws, fangs in a maw that could open as wide as a great whites. An uncontrolable hunger and a pirhanna's attitude on two knobby legs. A solid back hand would destroy one but they counted on numbers, though they didn't have the intellegence to count above ten. They might choose to divide themselves against their targets in ones and twos or they might mob only one or two. Intractable they were and barely barely directable.

She nodded to herself and looked outward again at the small group about her. Her body lit from with in, a golden nimbus about her.

blink of an eye

Fortier, Godolkin, and Red found themselves behind the massive bar that ran along the north wall of the Main Level. The seven bartenders and waitstaff that had taken shelter behind it were at the far west end, not towards the center where the trio had materialized. The area stank of spilt alcohol and fear.

Blink again

Casca and Loki found themselves in the protected alcove that where the elevator both had taken down to where both had just been. The massive support wall fromed a solid barriacade between them and the spreading out Iconoclast forces. The door in to the back stage area, on the east wall just north of where the appeared stood opn, and it sounded as if a number of patrons and staff had feld into the greater darkness of the back stage area.

Longer this time, a breath and...

Sian looked at Charli, Scott and Kristy "Okay guys this is it. I'll do my best to keep you all safe when we get up there, but I'm going to be pretty exhausted." She felt she had to advise them honestly.

Then they were else where. Lighting din, the stink of blood, death, and things burning filled the air. Cries of panic, pain, hysteria assaulted the ears, and above all the torn silk sound of the mini guns. And for those sensitive enough fear, anger, terror and rage beat at their minds.

Some scrabbled up the broad stairs leading to the balcony and catwalk level, supposing it to be the safest place. Others crouched in the relative safety of the high backed booths. Bodies lay still or writhed fitfully here and there.

Sian, Charli, Scott and Kristy were almost exactly due west, across the length of the club from Casca and Loki, but in the distance and dimness neither group could see the other...but every group had a moments knowing of just were they others were. Then Sian was sagging aginst the wall, exhausted but still standing, and not unaware of he fine thread of blood coming from one nostril.

The Jackie was loosing the Darklings, a total of eighty of them, each infused with a bit of his life force. They swarmed out of the impenatrable darknesss towards their targets, the Iconoclasts troops as they spread oput.

Ryan had been analyzing the situation and had come up with three options, thought the third was in truth a synthesis of the first two. The first option was expose himself to finish off an injured foeman which was not wise, the second was to seek greater shelter which was wiser, if not as effective. He'd been about to put the optimal solution into play when a new factor was introduced into the equation.

A number of people simply appeared out of nothing. As he started in surprize which is never a good thing, one of the soldiers took the opportunity to let rip on the table he'd been sheltering behind, spraying his face with wood. As the gash on his forehead began dripping, he dropped to his knee and fired left-handly at the downed trooper. As he had been up to now firing right handed, he counted on both the difference in tactic and the new arrivals to give him a decent breathing window, and since he was nearly fully ambidextrous it wouldn't really interfere with his accuracy.

Fortier quickly recovered from the teleport, and pulled the stock of the weapon in close. He looked over at Red and Godolkin, and nodded. "Alright, lets fuck something up!" he shouted over the roar of gun fire.

He was in a squating position, and he turned his body while thrusting upwards with his legs, spinning to face the inside of the club. He saw the Iconoclasts on the stairs, snapped the rifle up, and aimed quickly. He let the red dot of the scope fall on the face of one of the troopers, and squeezed, sending out a single 7.62mm hollowpoint screaming towards its target. He didn't wait to see the impact, his training had told him to keep moving. And he did. He swung the rifle, letting it settle between the shoulder blades of one of the shock troopers, its back to him, and he fired again, this time two rounds.

At this point, he guessed the first one had been hit, the second one as well due to the distance, and he spun, dropping down behind the bar. The entire movement took less than two seconds. He looked over at Red and her partner. "What are ya'll waiting for. Kill something!"

Red and Godolkin suddenly found themselves staring into what appeared to be a war zone. Bodies lay scattered about, some seeming as though they had tried to flee, others as though they had tried to attack and some piles that looked like ones too frightened to even run and tried to huddle together for protection they never got. They could see the Iconoclasts moving through the dim haze and without doing an actual count she figured a standard compliment.

Two noticed Red and yelled, "PRIMARY TARGET AQUIRED, PROCEEDING WITH RECAPTURE."

One noticed Godolkin, "SECONDARY TARGET AQUIRED, PROCEEDING WITH RETIREMENT."

Both Red and Godolkin were shocked by this. Red, because she had anticipated they're desire to retire her, it had been the original plan. Now, suddenly, they wanted to capture her. Godolkin because, although he knew all this time that his life was forfiet, it was the first time that they had faced the troopers since his attack on her and the announcement was like a physical blow to him. The final thin line had been snapped and it's repurcussion was more pain than he would have thought.

The two who had noticed Red were pulling out thier stakers while the one who had seen Godolkin was raising his mini-gun at the same time that Red and Godolkin were dropping below the bar for cover, but not before noticing a tidal wave of black bodies rushing toward the troopers.

The trooper who was down died as Ryan put a bullet in his head and almost paid the price for his move. But now the troopers had more to worry about and almost as one those with mini-guns sparyed the onrushing creatures in short arcs.

Casca was in his element. The wall was shelter, and it would be used. Two memories came to his mind: the capturing of Jerusalem during the Six Day war, and the destruction of a group of Taira soldiers during the early days of the last wars between the Taira and the Minamoto. Fire from around the corners. Take out the targets that would cause the greatest disruption.

Casca saw the bar out of the corner of his eye. He heard the voices. But now, it was time to kill. Casca brought the gun up. He peeked around the corner, standing so that Loki would be able to crouch under/behind him. Loki was definitely NOT immortal, so protecting his backup was important. He fired off three rounds, dead center into the trooper with the flame-thrower. Yet it did nothing. Sure, the Trooper felt it, that muchg was apparent, but that was all. He turned to Casca, and he fired again, this time going for the head. It wasn't a big target, but for some reason, the Trooper seemed well-protected against torso attacks.the first round missed. The second round was a grazer. The third went above the right eye, and into the brain. Yet it wasn't fast enough, for a stream of fire had already been released, and was coming at the two in the alcove. "DUCK!"

(OOC: Everyone please see important note on the OOC thread for the combat rounds.)

"BLIMEY! What the bloody hell are they talking about?" Red snapped.

"I don't know", Godolkin replied, "our former orders had been your retirement. Odd that they want you captured now."

"Yeah, well, it ain't happenin. The Limey beggers ain't taking me back. Bloody HELL I wish I had my knife."

Godolkin shuddered a bit at the statement. In close combat she was lethal, with guns she ranged from menace to nuisance with a bit of look out for friendly fire thrown in for good measure.

Loki took a moment to gain his bearings as he'd never been teleported before and it was a somewhat strange feeling, to say the least. Casca appeared to be on track and so Loki quickly followed, taking a crouching position underneath the immortal warrior and peaking his head around the corner in order to assess the situation.

Before Loki had a chance to do much of anything, Casca had already opened fire upon one of the Iconoclast soldiers, drawing the heavily armed brute's attention towards the pair. Cursing under his breath, Loki ducked as Casca and the soldier exchanged fire before finally one of them went down, the Iconoclast fortunately.

Still in his low crouch position, Loki edged forward once again and noted several of the Iconoclasts on the stairs. Closing his eyes of just a second, he tapped into his natural abilities, sensing what elements were at his command simply within the club. Whilst he could create them, it was always much easier to simply use what was lying around.

Noting the thin piping above the soldiers, Loki grinned. The fire sprinkler system was just what he needed. Reaching out to the water within the pipes, Loki took hold of the element, his awareness now fully incorporating the position and properties of the water.

The air was also another important factor for this attack. If the Iconoclasts paid attention they would have noticed the air become significantly colder around them, so cold that water would freeze in it. Ice began to form around the pipes and moisture began dropping from the air, frozen solid.

With the air now a suitable temperature, Loki forced the water through the pipes and out the sprinklers, resulting in a hailstorm of large, sharp and long icy spines forming in the air before accelerating at unnatural speeds towards the Iconoclast's heads. Within seconds they would be engulfed in a blizzard of rock hard ice spears capable of piercing flesh and even cracking bone.

As Scott watched, Jean Grey somehow made one group of them disappear, then another. Leaving only four of them.

What the hell?!

"Okay guys this is it. I'll do my best to keep you all safe when we get up there, but I'm going to be pretty exhausted."

Okay, why do I not like the sound of that?

The next thing he knew, everything changed. From the tension-filled air of wherever they had been, they were definitely somewhere different now, and from the way it looked and sounded, it was not a good thing. The whole place was so dark as for him to be barely able to see anything, the sounds of people screaming and dying filled the air, the odors of blood and death battered on his senses, and there were those damned rat-tat-tat-tat-tat of whatever kind of guns those were. There seemed to be a lot of them, and they seemed to have quite the rate of fire. It was a war zone, and he had just chosen to land Kristy and himself right in the middle of it.

Well, I guess that's why.

In any case, he had made his choice (albeit a choice made with the influence of his sister, who probably didn't have quite the firm grasp of reality as her brother has), and now he was going to have to live with it. And since he had made his choice, Scott knew that he wasn't going to go back on it. Even if he could, which he was sure was probably impossible. He shook his head to clear his mind of the disorientation this was causing him, and looked around to get his bearings.

There was only himself, Kristy, Glowing Lady and Jean Grey around here, and it seemed as if the rest of them were somewhere else. And in the darkness, he could barely see that Jean Grey looked somewhat out of sorts; bitten off more than she could chew, I bet, he thought sarcastically. Which means only he and Glowing Lady were left to do anything substantial, as he didn't even trust Kristy to not trip over her own feet, like she had always done since they were children. Dammit, I knew I should've told her to stay put.

"Kristy, find a place to hide, and stay there!"

She wasn't listening. Instead, she seemed to have shaken off her disorientation surprisingly fast, if only because she was looking worriedly at Jean Grey. And it seems like for good reason, too; now Scott could see that the telepath was bleeding from her nose, definitely not just out-of-sorts in an ordinary kind of way. And his sister was touching Jean Grey's face, brushing her hair, whispering to her frantically.

"Doctor Sian? Doctor Sian? Are you alright? Do you need.......need......."

Out of nowhere, Kristy was suddenly stumbling over her words.

"Hey......Kristy?"

He went over to grab her arm, concerned for his sister's strange behaviour. But right then, he stopped; there was something definitely differnt about Kristy's demeanour. Different, but eeriely similar. It was quite enough to give Scott goosebumps; he had only felt that way with his sister once in his life before. And that was the time when he had made his escape with her, from the town they had grown up in.

Slowly, Kristy closed her eyes, seeming to go into a meditative state. As her brother looked on, a dim glow began to enamate from her. It steadily grew to a white aura, although it was as yet dim enough such that whoever the gun-toting aggressors were, they wouldn't notice them yet. And as the aura grew, a sigil of green light began to form itself on her forehead; in no time at all, it became this:

http://groups.msn.com/WeatheredImagination/gothicunderworldspics.msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID=300

It was, unmistakably, the sign of Virgo, the Virgin. And as Kristy seemed to meditate, a feeling of well-being flowed into Scott's mind, calming him down significantly; no doubt, it would help Jean Grey too, and perhaps Glowing Lady could use it, as well. Nevertheless, Scott stared at the two for just a little while later, before finally looking at Glowing Lady.

"Alright......shall we?"

With that, he looked around, looking for something to use. The sign of Taurus,

http://groups.msn.com/WeatheredImagination/gothicunderworldspics.msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID=299

was prominent on his forehead now, and a sense of physical power was following him wherever he went.

"......Perfect."

A sound of glass being punched into smithereens, and Scott had a fire axe in his hands, one which was meant for use in the event of a fire in the club. However, the boy had a different idea for the axe in mind tonight. Besides, even though it wasn't quite what the makers of the axe might have intended, it was still an emergency, and that was what counted, wasn't it?

"Let's see what this can do, shall we?"

And with that, Scott peeked out from behind his cover. While it was still rather too dark for him to see clearly, there was no mistaking the numerous flashes of light that accompanied the rat-tat-tat-tat-tat for what it was. In a flash, Scott threw the fire axe in the general direction of the flashes of light, utilizing every bit of the strength of the Bull in his throw, before ducking back under cover again.

"You have any idea what I can do?", Scott turned to Charli. "They're not going to go down with just one axe, y'know."

"They're not going to go down with just one axe, y'know."



Charli would mention the glowing zodiac sigil later...

"That axe didn't reach anywhere near them at that distance but damn that was a thow I didn't think any one could make. You the star quarterback Scott?" Charlie grimaced as she watched the axe - an axe of a design that wasn't meant for throwing - fly further than she thought possible but still fall just barely short. "Theres a door close behind us, not easy to see, but findeable if you know what you are looking for. Its to a store room under the stairs. They keep cleaning supplies there, and other stuff. Some of that stuff goes boom when heat is applied. Care to help me throw a few hotter than your average molotov fireballs?" She grinned at him then risked another peak around the corner.

"Doctor Sian? Doctor Sian? Are you alright? Do you need.......need......."

Sian let the peacefullness that the young girl was projecting wash over her, let ease the pounding headache that was nearly blinding her. Well I guess the old wives tales are true. This is so not convienent. Jackie is just going to ...I do so not need to beShe made herself not even think it, shutting herself behind her sields for a moment she notced nothing, not even herself. Then the moment passed and she straightened, turning her thoughts to more productive matters.

"Kristy, thats a very powerful thing you are doing. Here, let me help you make it more powerful. Let me act as your lens, a focus for you. Sit down here. "

She had Kristy sit with her back to the wall, completely out of sight from any one. Then she sat down in front of Kristy, at an angle that allowed her to peak around the corner , but hiding the small figure further. She leaned forward, looking past Charli, and smiled as she saw she could see around the corner easily. "Now put your hand on my shoulder, and think those nice peaceful thoughts again." She smiled back at Kristy. Just focusing what Kristy was generating wouldn't over tax her, and within her ability at the moment.

Charli noticed that another of the enemy was using a flame thrower, as some one had earlier. And her grin turned savage. She sent her senses out questing for the fuel, the lovely fire in waiting, wanting eager to reage forth and live as it was meant to. She swallowed deeply draw to that anticipation and at her side her hand clenched, unnoticed into a fist.

And the tank of Purifier fuel on the back of the Shock Trooper on the stairs exploded into flame, engulfing the figure in a blanket of clinging, hungry fire.

Ryan fired another bullet at one of the undistracted soldiers, those not trying to kill the shadowy thingies that had appeared out of the shadows and attacked them. He wasn't sure where any of these strange people or things had come from, but at least two were of interest to these soldiers. As the pistol clacked to signify that it was empty, he rolled to the bathroom to reload his pistol.

Ejecting the spent clip that had contained .40S&W rounds, he slammed in the 9mm rounds and peeked around the side to look for targets of opportunity as 9mm rounds were much less likely to do serious damage against the soldiers toughness.

As Fortier placed the dot on his target the Iconoclast noticed the beam and began moving as Fortier pulled the trigger. Fast as he was he was fast enough to move out of the path of the bullet entirely and it grazed the side of his head, still having enough of an impact to knock him off balance.

Fortier's second victim wasn't even facing him and was knocked forward as the two shots penetrated the armor and shirt, killing him before he hit the ground.

Casca's attack killed one of the ones who had a purifier that was getting ready to switch to a staker. The first three made him grunt and he turned as the next set killed him, but on impulse his finger squeezed the purifier still in his hand and flame shot out toward Casca and Loki, coating the walls and floor around them even as the trooper fell, the trigger still depressed and flame jetting out along the ground in thier general direction.

The air turned cold, but the Iconoclasts on the stairs didn't seem to notice, until the water vapor, itself, began to freeze. When the deadly rain started the Iconoclasts did the only thing they could, they planted thier feet and fired upward, hoping to destroy the fragile projectiles. The trooper that Fortier had grazed, however, completely lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs.

The soldier on the stairs had swung the purifier upward, preparing to battle ice with fire. The explosion threw him forward and then in a tumbling roll down the staircase, leaving spots of flame all the way down as the viscous liquid adhered to whereever he touched.

Only one soldier didn't seem to be paying attention to the creatures and he was far away, the bullet missing it's mark. He had pulled out the staker and was looking in the direction of the Huntress, then began moving forward to reaquire his target.

(OOC: Before replying, see the OOC thread for updates on what's where, or rather who's where.)

"That axe didn't reach anywhere near them at that distance but damn that was a thow I didn't think any one could make. You the star quarterback Scott?"


Damned. So much for an idea.

"Not really. In fact, I was nowhere near bein' a jock til a coupla months ago", the boy replied, as he thought over his next possibilities. Apparently he was going to have to think twice about the kind of things he was going to throw next time. But what should he try next?

"Theres a door close behind us, not easy to see, but findeable if you know what you are looking for. Its to a store room under the stairs. They keep cleaning supplies there, and other stuff. Some of that stuff goes boom when heat is applied. Care to help me throw a few hotter than your average molotov fireballs?"


I guess there's my answer.

"Alright, lady......lessee, where's that door......"

A bit of shuffling around in the dark, and Scott managed to locate the door without too much hassle. It was locked, but that counted for nothing as the impossibly-strong boy merely ripped the door knob out of its frame, and followed up by ripping the door itself out of its hinges altogether. As he was about to go down the stairs though, he turned back.

"Hey, lady! How did you know my na-wait. Never mind. You musta heard it from Jean Grey, huh?"

With that, he went down, and soon there were the sounds of shuffling inside the storeroom.

"Yo, lady, what exactly are we lookin' for again?"

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

"Kristy, thats a very powerful thing you are doing. Here, let me help you make it more powerful. Let me act as your lens, a focus for you. Sit down here.......Now put your hand on my shoulder, and think those nice peaceful thoughts again."

The aura faded away from Kristy, and Virgo faded away from the girl's forehead as well. As the blank look disappeared from Kristy's eyes, it was replaced by a blank look of a different, more familiar kind; the kind that meant the one with those eyes had no idea what was going on.

"Er......huh?"

Apparently Kristy wasn't even fully aware of whatever she had been doing. Yet, she listened to Sian all the same, and while she didn't understand half of it, she still nodded anyway, not sure what was going on.

"Peaceful thoughts......? Okay......"

She continued to look at Sian, trying to think 'peaceful thoughts', even in this place, where peaceful thoughts was probably the last thing on any sane person's mind. Yet, after a few moments, Kristy started looking sleepy again; in no time at all, the Virgo symbol and the calming aura was back. Eyes closed, she still somehow remembered to put her hand on Sian's shoulder, like the older woman had told her to.

____________________________________________________________________________________

After a few minutes, Scott was back, carrying........what appeared to be a really strange-looking golf cart. It was actually a vacuum cleaner though, one of the variety that you could ride on, and on its seat were a box full of bottles of various shapes and sizes; cleaning chemicals, the flammable stuff Charli was talking about. And various other types of stuff as well, but in the dark it was too dark to discern what exactly Scott had managed to lug all the way up; in fact, Charli might be surprised to see he was able to lug all that up altogether.

"Okay, lady. These what you need? Then stay back, I'm gonna throw this muthafucka helluva far!!!"

And with that, Scott began to swing the cart-sized vacuum around in a few circles, finally tossing it really high up in the air; headed towards whoever the gun-toting bastards were. And he had left the box of cleaning materials in the seat of the cart, too; the bottles of cleaning chemicals started flying into the air...........

"Fuck," Casca shifted to cover just in time. "Loki, if you can do anything with fire, stop the inferno that's headed right at us!"

Having slammed in the clip of 'light' ammo, Ryan turned and saw where the man he'd shot at was looking. Deciding to try again, he fired at the man who was not, he fired four rounds of 9mm amunition with the intention of blowing the legs from under him, or at least clipping a tendon or two sufficiantly to make him an easier head shot.

As he did he wondered who the others were again, both the attackers and counter-attackers. For many it would impair accuracy to multitask but the damned and dead instructors for the project that was responsible for him, and appeared to be likewise responsible for the soldiers, had forced students to play mental game of chess or similar excersies at least at the international level while moving through a target range or in close-quarters fighting.

Loki cursed loudly as the fire rushed towards him, only just able to get back behind cover in order to avoid being burned to a crisp. The sight of fire brought back painful memories straight away, reminding him of his own hand in the death of his parents.

Keeping that in mind, Loki wasn't quite prepared to use his own fire related talents. Thinking over the situation quickly, Loki ducked out from the cover unleashed a wave of water large enough to engulf the fire and drench the dead trooper, including his equipment.

Of course the water was only a momentary solution as the soldier's finger was still pressing the trigger and the flames would return any second now. In order to prevent such, Loki dropped the temperature once again, specifically around drenched corpse. Within seconds the body was literally frozen, along with the purifier and the fuel inside.

"There should hold him..."

Just to be sure, Loki brought his MP5 up to bear and squeezed off a few rounds, smashing the Iconoclast into several pieces of blood, ice and tissue. Returning to cover, Loki sighed.

France, 1916: Casca remembered the encounters, the battles, the fights, all rolled into one uneding campaign for the Crown and Country. You had your gun, and fired at the hordes that attacked you, conserving what precious ammo the majors doled out. The nest day the roles were reversed, trying to avoid bullets and mortars, jumping into foxholes and ditches whenever possible. It had been Hell. And back.

Casey opened his eyes. "Good work Loki." He stepped out, firing at the closest guy to him, remembering to go only for a head shot. He crouched as he moved, quickly going to the next guy, being sure to take out what he viewed as the most dangerous targets. He didn't wait to see if anybody dropped before moving on, it was thump or no thump, no thump indicating an urgent need to fix a mistake. The rifle was quickly brought to a group coming up the stairs. The forms of those that he shot at were visible. Time seemed to slow, but he would be able to tell whether or not any had died rather soon.

Okay, lady. These what you need? Then stay back, I'm gonna throw this muthafucka helluva far!!!"

Charli watched wide eyes as the heavy cart and it's load of supposedly innocuous cleaning supplies flew through the air like a touchdown pass by a superbowl champ. She snarled and the combustables combusted as cart and all landed on the feet of the nearest Iconoclast.


**********************

Sian let her breathing slow as she let the energies the Kristy was generating fill her, swirl around ligh light in the focusing chamber of a lazer, growing, refining, focusing into an intense beam. She locked her gaze on the Shock Trooper just cleaing the stairs, and snet it surging out to him, visualizing it striking like a precission lance. She could ony hope that it would affect him.

**************************

Jackie was empty, hungry after unleashing the Darklings and the Dark responded to that hunger. Tendrils of darker dark flowed forth, seaking searching and then lashing out to enfold the Shock Trooper on the east side of the trio just clearing the stairs. Darkness folded itself about the unwitting meal and seconds later a skleleton staggered forth to remain upright for a hear beat before collapsing into so much dust.

The nine milimeter rounds crashed in around the bar, Fortier keeping his head low as the burning lead 'zinged' past him, harmlessly shooting over his head, smashing into the back of the bar, and the thick wood between him and the advancing shooters. Another move like his last would get him killed, and fast, jumping up into the hail of bullets. Instead, he kept his head low, and moved towards the end of the bar, pushing those hiding behind it away, his rifle forward. The movement served two purposes. The first was to get him another shot, the second was to move him as far away from the two he had 'ported in with. They seemed to be the main targets, and he wanted as much space from them as possible

He made it to the end of the bar safely, and realised he was in no differnt of a situation. There was no time to jump out, get a look, and then get back behind cover, prepare a shot based on what he saw, jump back out, and shoot. Instead, he looked around, and found a shard of broken glass.

Disco, he thought to himself, grabbing it. He stuck it around the edge, slowly edging the shard out, using the reflection from the mirror like glass to get a good view. The piece was flat, and not warped, keeping the veiw clean and clear. He spotted one of the shooters, blasting away with the minigun, towards the center of the stage. He dropped the mirror, kept low, rotated around the edge of the bar, and opened fire.

He kept the rifle on semi, but squeezed four times, leveling the Aimpoint on the Iconoclast's face for the first two shots, but moving towards its chest for the second two. Those that watched carefully, and many did, would notice that he did not roll back behind the full cover of the bar, attempting to line up another shot.
___

Over head, one watched the battle with very close intent. He did not get involved, nor would he attempt to unless something started shooting at him. Which, in the circumstances, would be considered impossible. He did not attack, nor did he even target a kill, he just watched.

And his focus was on one person alone.

He observed the man take out two of the invaders, the first being knocked off ballance and falling from the stairs, the second one being hit from behind. This man he watched was a good shot, and clever. He would be a fine kill. The light bent around the observer, rendering partially invisible, and allowing him to only watch, with little fear, if one could have such a thing as fear, of being seen.

Red knew that her chances of hitting the bastards at this distance without getting shot in the process of lining up her shot were slim to none. Typically she used the magnums for Lycan/Vamp hunting and primarly to slow them down so she could finish them. Bottles and glasses exploded behind the bar and finally she mumbled, "Screw this", and rolled away from the counter then launched herself into a diving roll. Faster than mortal eyes could follow she charged toward the one with the staker who took a round from Casca just before Red reached him. The staker thudded, but was off target from the hit to his shoulder from Casca's shot and Red leaped, grabbing the trooper and dragging him down to the floor where she gave a heaving grunt and snapped his neck.

Godolkin heard her mutter and knew she was about to charge into the fray. As quickly as he could he rose to give her cover fire but she was already on the trooper. Casca had gotten off his second round, and it was almost a kill shot, but he was firing to fast and looking for to many target, plus he had stepped out in the open. The trooper he had just grazed turned and opened fire, the mini-gun catching him in the chest and stapling upward, ripping into his jaw, cheek and then the left side of face. Cascas's last shot missed completely as he was hit and Godolkin shouted, "MAN DOWN! as he snapped his own Mini-gun around and opened fire on the the trooper who shot Casca. The bullets thudded into his chest and were working thier way up when a cart landed at his feet and suddenly exploded, throwing Red against the wall in the process and killing the trooper instantly..

Fortier's shot was clean, as was his second and all the rest and the trooper went down, dead before he hit the floor.

Ryan's shots thumped into another troopers leg, catching him off guard and throwing him off balance. Between the impact and the floor, now slick with blood, he lost his footing and went down to his knees. He knew that the wound wasn't lethal, in fact it didn't penetrate at all. He had his staker in hand already and turned toward the blasphemy, taking his shot. Red screamed, more in fury than agony, as the shaft caught her thigh and pinned her to the wall.

The last Iconoclast up the stair spied the traitor and raised the mini-gun to retire Godolkin. Suddenly a strange feeling came over him and he lowered the gun, trying to figure out what was going on and what he was doing as Sian and Kristy tried to force him to be calm. But he already was calm. The troopers didn't feel anger. Nor did they feel upset or anxious. They had a job to do and that was to kill who they were ordered to kill.

(OOC: Before replying, see the OOC thread for updates on what's where, or rather who's where.)

Taking cover as Casca was hit, Loki spun around to assess the damage upon his partner. By all appearances he'd been hit pretty bad and the shots most likely lethal, unfortunately he didn't have time to worry about that as there were still more soldiers out there to take care of.

Peaking out from around the corner once again, Loki looked to the stairs and noted a soldier standing at the top, his gun lowered and a slightly confused expression plastered across his face. Loki had no idea what was going on but it was his chance to strike. His only problem was coming up with something that would kill these soldiers.

Scanning tha rea once again, he noted the stairs. The stairs were made of glass. Glass is merely a liquid with an extremely slow particle flow. Thanking his high school chemistry teacher, Loki concentrated on the glass stairs. He didn't know if it would work but in theory it should.

A few seconds passed with nothing until the sound of shattering glass exploded into the air, filling the massive room with its broken chime. Now in control of all the floating glass, Loki concentrated upon the dazed soldier at the top of the stairs. Hundreds of jagged pieces made their way up to the Iconoclast, floating above his unwary head.

Without warning the glass plunged downwards, aiming for any exposed portion of the soldier's head. Eyes, ears, nose, cheeks, skull, everything.

Blackness. Silence. Peace. Ahh death, art thou finally coming to claim me? Casca had taken too mcuh for any man to survive. Death's shroud cloaked him, and all was quiet. Can I fianlay rest now?

And then He spoke. Again. The words that Casca dreaded, the words that made him what he was. Until We meet again.

No. Why?! But already, the curse was acting. The damage was to the skull, so even though it was not demolition, it was still lethal to humans. But it was repairable, especially for one like Casca. The bullet was still lodged in his head, but that was quickly taken care of. Then his jaw bones began the slow, painful realignment, as the flesh on his face began to reconstitute itself. In pure irony, it had only ripped open the old scar that he had gotten from the whore he short-changed in Armenia. It would not alter his face, but at this point, Casca was in no condition to even realize it. His heart, having slowed as death tried to stake its claim, began to pick up its tempo as the curse of life overcame it. The path of the bullet in Casca's chest was quickly closed, and his WBC's went into overdrive to eliminate any foreign invaders.

Casca's eyes opened, and he shifte to a an upright, crouching position. "I'm fine," he shouted to the Hulk. He scrambled over to where Loki was still using the cover, and as he got to relative safety, he let out a sigh of relief. "Armor must be better than I thought," he said, circumventing the old question of "Why aren't you dead?" that was probably poking its way into Loki's mind.

As Sian drained the calming energy from Kristy and used it as a prospective weapon against the last Shock Trooper up the stairs, the young girl herself remained unaware of the way the older woman was using her power for her own purposes. Or at least, she didn't react as yet, for she was wincing instead, breaking out in a cold sweat. For Sian was twisting the Virgo aura out of its usual shape, stretching it beyond the limits Kristy could handle. Even as she was barely conscious, it was obvious that she was in agony, her body shaking as Sian compressed the Virgo aura further, yet she couldn't scream. She wasn't conscious enough to scream.

But when the telepath shaped the young girl's hypnotic aura into a lance, and shot it towards the hapless Iconoclast at the top of the stairs, that was when Kristy reached her breaking point......and a mental barrier was broken.

In her mind, an ethereal image of a young woman in flowing robes appeared amidst a star-spangled night sky. The young woman was in a praying position, her eyes closed in meditation. But as she looked on, the ghostly young woman lifted her head, and she raised her closed eyelids, revealing two bright orbs that served as her eyes. She had been summoned.

Thus, was the Spirit of Virgo fully awakened......

With a shuddering gasp, Kristy suddenly snapped out of her semi-comatose state, her back arching as she opened her eyes, the symbol of Virgo flaring a bright emerald......

_______________________________________________________________________________________________


In the distance, an explosion of bright orange light and thundering sound signaled the fiery demise of the Trooper unlucky enough to have been targeted with the flying cart, and its volatile cargo.

"Talk about going with a blast", Scott remarked admiringly, as he watched on the makeshift funeral pyre of the unlucky one. The lady, whoever she was, sure was one hell of a pyromaniac, and he knew that he didn't want to get on her wrong side, lest she set his butt on fire. And come to think of it, as Scott thought back on how Jean Grey had stripped Pyro Lady for her version of a field medical treatment, she had quite the hot bod too. One that that piece of Victoria's Secret did little to hide......

No, Scott. Now is not the time to be thinking of THAT!

The boy glanced at Pyro Lady again, and he remarked, "By the way, anyone ever told you that you were hot?"

He may have resisted thinking about the nasty, but one thing that Scott Michael Halliwell could never resist was a bad pun.

With his mouth shot off, the boy turned his attention back on the warzone again, squinting to see in the darkness. The rat-tat-tat sounds were all but gone now for some reason, and thus without that distinctive noise nor the flashes of light that accompanied it, he could not pick out anything. Until he looked in the general direction of the stairs, seeing the last human gorilla that was stupidly standing in the open for all to see.

Guess these guys aren't that smart, after all.

Just then, he felt himself walk into something, and the boy looked down to see that it was a long table. He couldn't discern exactly how long or how wide across it was, but one thing was for sure, it must have taken at least six men just to lift it. And as wide as it was, it was just enough for him to lay both hands on either side. Perfect.

With a great heave, Scott had the table lifted above his head, and he hoped that it wouldn't make him too obvious a target, even with the darkness all around. Even with his strength, the table felt quite heavy, and the boy was pretty sure that it was plenty heavy enough to make even the gorilla blink, at the very least. No shots aimed his way yet; for some reason, the gorilla at the stairs wasn't doing anything, and so as to press his advantage, Scott wasted no time in making a short run-up, before hurling the table at his intended target.

The long table sailed through the air, heading towards the stunned trooper like the airborne battering ram it was meant to be, even as glass shards rained down on the same unlucky bastard.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

The Spirit of Virgo had fully awoken in Christine Elena Halliwell, the younger sister of the Halliwell pair. And as she regained full consciousness of her actions, she also gained full awareness of the benign Spirit that was even now in her, using her as a conduit for Her extradimensional power into this world.

This.......this is what I could do?

Then the Spirit faded from her sight, leaving Kristy looking directly at the face of Doctor Sian. The older woman was still siphoning her Spirit Aura, but now that the barrier had been overcome, it no longer caused her agony; Sian might as well have been tapping into a bottomless well of nurturing, sustaining mental energy. And for the moment, as Kristy began to get used to her new-found powers, she opted to let the telepath continue with her work; after all, Sian was using her Aura in a way that she not yet learned, and she was perfectly fine with it, if it helped.

Or maybe......Doctor Sian? Please keep this up, I want to try something......

And the Spirit Aura shifted; the pure calming energy shifted, turning into a form that was similar, but altogether different. Now, it attempted to delve deep into the psyche of the older woman, but almost as immediately, hit a dead end against the natural mental barriers of the highly adept telepath. Failing which, the shifted Aura merely settled in like a warm blanket on her mind, quiscent and calm.

Doctor Sian......Doctor Sian? Can you read my mind? Can you use this? Can you project what I'm doing, like you did just now? This will make them see things that aren't there......

Fortier watched as the situation unfolded, Red getting staked to the wall, Casca getting hit, his own shots taking down another Iconoclast, glass shattering and flying out towards an shock trooper, and the general sounds of combat.

Casca had been to far away to help, and the impact looked deadly. He swung his focus towards Red, the spike having torn through her thigh and slamming into a wall, holding her in place. He made the judgement call, and stood in a low crouch.

"Hey big boy!" he shouted over the roar and cracks of gun fire, "cover me!" He slung the rifle over his shoulder, and kept his head low, moving at a quick sprint towards Red. As he moved around the dead bodies, dodging the flames, and keeping his head away from bullets, he had the distinct feeling that a pair of eyes were baring down on him, watching him. He pushed the thoughts aside, working on keeping his footing in his near run. When he was nothing more than a few short feet from Red, he dropped, letting his legs go out first, sliding to a stop next to her. He unslung the rifle, dropping it next to Red. "Watch my back!" he said, loud enough to be heard over the sound of gunfire.

He gripped the stake, and pulled hard on the metal spear, working to pull it from her leg.

Godolkin nodded to Fortier and raised his gun to the most menacing target, the one with a mini-gun like his own. He opened fire just as a glass shard rain struck the trooper and stopped as a table slammed into the iconoclast, knocking him into the, now non-existant, stairwell. Red shouted, "NO!", and reached for the rifle as Fortier grabbed the stake to pull it out. She was to late though as another stake slammed into the back of his head, saving her from the shot that would have staked her other leg to the wall.

"LIMEY BASTARD!!!", She bellowed and pulled the trigger on the rifle, but it only fire a three shot burst and stopped.

Casca peeked out and lined up the shot. He had liked Rob. Now Rob was dead, a stake in the head. The man responsible was going after the red-head, who obviously was some sort of super-human, though was now pinned to the wall. The gun came up. The target was sighted. The head was aligned. Just above the year.

The finger took up the remaining slack on the trigger, and the gun fired. Again. And Again. Time slowed for the Eternal Mercenary, something not very pleasant given his circumstances. But slow it did. The aim was accurate, and Casca knew it. His hands couldn't move, he was frozen, watching the bullets.

The trooper had only one focus, the blasphemy. He raised the staker again, to make sure she was held in place. The other troopers should arrive soon and the prize would be waiting for them. He never felt the bullets, never felt pain, one moment he was alive, if such in thier state can be called alive and the next he was dead.

"MAN DOWN", Godolkin shouted again, suddenly realizing it now that the trooper he had been firing at was gone.

Red threw down the rifle and grabbed at the metal stake in her leg, wresting at it furiously, but unable to get any leverage. 'This is MY fault', she thought to herself, 'I should've fucking left when I had the chance. Now all this blood is on MY hands.'

Ryan had turned to fire again at the soldiers when he saw one fire another of the rounds, that had nailed one of the females in the leg, at a man who'd gone to aid her. In an almost slow motion he saw the man's skull get impaled by the spike while three of them returned fire at the man, returning the favour by blowing the soldier's skull open in a rush of blood.

As those who'd been lured to the top by him all appeared dead, and he was pretty sure the ones that had been on the ground floor were also there, he got up and moved over to the woman, noting in passing that one of the men looked quite like the downed soldiers.

Arriving at the woman's side he crouched down and prepared to yank out the stake commenting, "This may hurt."

Red saw the man approach and tensed.

"This may hurt."

"Oh like it don't bloody well hurt now?" she asked.

Godolkin did a sweep and was a bit surprised that Casca was alive, even though he had shouted he was fine, and then headed over to where Red was staked, wondering where this man had come from. In the confusion he hadn't noticed him, but then the place was large and fires and smoke hindered sight.

"I'm sure in some circles that would have been considered hilarious." He commented, thought his voice proclaimed he hadn't found it all that humorous, as he took hold of the stake and pulled it out, doing it fast and careful to prevent further damage.

Ripping a large section off his shirt revealing the torso of his armour, of a style that would be familiar to those who had knowladge of the Iconoclast's armour designs, he began wrapping it further up her thigh, to cut down on the blood flow.

Red eyed the armor and glanced at Godolkin as he moved up beside them. He didn't seem to notice it, but then why should he? He had been programmed with only the knowledge he needed to kill. She looked back at the archaic armor, remembering it from something the Doc had shown her. Old work. Lost work. Designs from before the Doc had been introduced to the program. She had invisioned it with the tattooed Iconoclasts, yet this man had no tattoos. She didn't say anything to Godolkin, or anyone else and waiting to see what happens.

"So who, or what were those things, and why did they seem to have a hate on for you?" He commented as he finished bandaging her leg, "And what is that one doing not trying to kill you?" He added pointing at Godolkin

Red looked at the man and raised an eyebrow. "And what's with the old armor pal? Your telling me you don't know who they are?" She was hesitant to give her name right off, she had no idea who this guy was, or what he might be a part of.

"I've had this for a number of years, and do you really think I'd have asked if I knew who the hell they were. I was simply relaxing when those bastards busted in and began mowing people down." He commented

Doctor Sian......Doctor Sian? Can you read my mind? Can you use this? Can you project what I'm doing, like you did just now? This will make them see things that aren't there......

Wait, Kristy...I think Sian noticed the sudden silence, and cast her senses outward. The signatures of the Iconoclast Shock Troopers had faded, gone inert. But so had the icon she had designated as one of theirs. Fortiers. Behind heavy shields she cursed venemously. He had helped save her life just a month ago and now he wsa dead at her doing, helping her. His death on her head. She burined that thought, she'd grieve later.No Kristy it isn't needed any more, these are dead

The well of energy that Kristy had broken through to was still touchable by Sian, and it was not Kristies life energy, but diffrent, deep and seemingly inexhaustable. Now something Sian could normall touch but now, for the moment she could. And she did so, replenishing energy stores that were going to be constrained for a time.

************
"Man Down" the one called Godolkin's deep voice

"I'm finebarely audible but it sounded like Casey.

"By the way, anyone ever told you that you were hot?"

Charlie groaned Pele save me from teenage males! "My mother taught me how to cook, and I'm not half bad if I do say so myself."

Then she winced as she wated the Troop get it from multiple sides. "Oh Glassed in the old fashioned way!"

Then her attention was caught again

"LIMEY BASTARD!!!" Red Charli thought but couldn't really see why given the disatnce and the various remnants blocking her view.

"Man Down" Godolkin again.

"Damn" Charli cursed softly, as she waited, straining a bit in the sudden silence, to hear any on reply that they were just wounded. None came and the IConoclasts were down, or they were as far as she could tell.

"Stay here kid, I'm going to go see what's going on." Charli knew the layout of the club very well and quickly she was at the group of Red, Godolkin, and a stranger who seemded to be preparing to pull a stake out of Red's thigh.

Godolkin looked at him and then at Red and then at Fortier. She sighed and knelt down next to him, placing a hand on his back.

'Fuck', she muttered and then looked around at the carnage. "I have to get out of here before any more come looking for me", she said and got her good leg under her and stood up. "This is my fault. I should have left before this." She looked at the now non-existant stairs and then around the club. "How do you get out of this bomb shelter?"

The world stopped and slowed. Charli could not quite wrap her mind around what she was seeing. Not that she hadn't seen death before, or even the deaths of people she had known and worked with. But Robert Fortier was some one she called friend. Charli Firewalker called very, very few people friend. It ws too dangerous too. In more ways than one.

She didn't seem to notice it but the faint numbus of blue that had surrounded her earlier had returned. She turned slowly around, looking at the carnage. As her eyes swept over them, the bodies of the Iconoclast Shock Troopers vanished leaving nothing but a rising wisp of smoke and a small pile of highly carbonised ash.

Then a sudden gust of wind blasted through the shattered glass front of the club, as the hurricane's eye wall passed over them, ringing the downtown in a weirdling dead zone. The low drone of the Iconoclast helicopter, as the pilot now could pull back on the collective and gain altitude, was clearly heard...untill the machine vanished in an eye searing fireball that caused the other buildings lining the street to shake, and cost them their facades of glass. Deadly shards raining down in place of the gentler substance of hurricane driven water...

"The price is no where near paid." Charli whispered in a voice wracked with pain coming from a face carved from stone.

Then she looked back at Red, and Godolkin. Her voice was very calm and uninflected "I'll find ya'll later. I have to take Fortier home. He stayed cause I asked and I owe him that. But I'll be back, and I'll find ya'll and we'll have a long, serious talk.

Then she stooped, picked Fortier's body up and headed for the back room.

Ryan scowled as they didn't seem to be in an answering mood, and he had a number of questions. He noticed that the bodies were consumed by an obviously intense source of heat that seemingly originated from nowhere.

"Since all of you seem closed-mouthed, I'll be off and leave the corpse to your handling." He commented, his inherent lack of empathy making itself. He turned to look and noticed that they were in essence on a platform with no way off which was not the optimal way to get down.

A faint smile graced his face as an adaptaion of an old joke passed through his mind, How do you get down off a platform? You don't you get down off a duck. He also began looking for a lower ledge he could jump down to so he could make his way back to his room.

"Close mouthed?" Red replied. "First time ANYONE has accused me of that. Usually they want me to shut up. I'm looking for a way out is all, I figured you were a regular and might know another way." She stepped forward, favoring her injured leg but not as much as one might expect as the wound was healing already.

"Look, thanks, okay? They're called Iconoclasts. Warrior's for a division of the Roman Catholic church. They believe that all non-humans and mutants need to be wiped out." She looked back at Godolkin and then to Ryan, "He was one of them, but he's been", she stopped, not quite sure what to say, "he's free of thier influence is the best way I can put it. I'm Durham Red. Known to most nightlife as the Scarlet Huntress. I worked for them hunting the nightlife until they came up with thier pet soldiers. They slated me for retirement and I refused the benefits package."

The troopers below had found the elevators destroyed. Though climbing was a possibility it would leave them vulnerable as they exited at the top so they chose to backtrack and exit the garage, going around to the front of the building where the first team had entered. They noticed the firefight going on, though it was dying out at that point. Then silence followed for a moment before the helicopter suddenly blew up. They split to either side of the opening and watched, waiting to see what would happen.

"This is my first time here, and from the looks of it, most likely my last." He commented as he looked around the ruined bar and shrugged, he sure as hell wasn't paying the repair bill. He also noticed she was walking, something surprising considering the injury she'd sustained.

"Nice to know who was trying to kill me, and that would explain the raid on this place. It was packed full of vamps, weres and others." He commented not realizing the fact that he might have seriously offended those present.

"Never heard of you, though our career paths have appearently run along similar tracks at times, though I can say I've never worked for a church. They're all a bunch of lunatics claiming there's a god or gods."

He paused and looked around, "Oh and you asked about this armour. I've had it since I sent the Project up in smoke."

"Doc said something about an old project. The Iconoclast project is based off of it, though alot of new research and development had to be done apparently. You don't act like an Iconoclast though", Red observed.

"Until now I've never even heard of an Iconoclast project." He commented, "So why would I act like one?"

He shrugged and brushed the dried blood that had coated his face, with the the cuts caused by the shards of wood already healed. "It's been nice to find out who those were, but unless you've got something else, I've got somethings to pick up and then some research to do."

Casca looked to see if Loki was alright, which he was. He then proceeded to Robert's body, being caried by the glowing blue lady. "You didn't deserve this." He bent over, and took the knife that Rob had loaned him earlier. His old Spear-head. He would have to find a new owner for it, just as soon as he got out of this mess. For now, he pocketed it, placing it into the sheath that had also been Rob's. He thought about what had done this. Iconoclasts. Now he had another enemy on his list. Returning to Gogolkin and Durham Red, he spoke, hoarse from the battle-thirst that overcame warriors when the fighting stopped.

"Are there any more? You two have history with them. What can we expect? And what can we salvage from the dead ones? Weapons, armor, ammo, anything. And if possible, a brief idea of what they plan to do if there are more. Like I said, knowing their tactics would be helpful."

He looked at the bar. Thankfully, there were still a couple of water containers unharmed. He grabbed a glass, and broke the end off one, letting it pour into the cup, before he downed it in a single gulp. He repeated this process until the water was halfway gone, and no longer flowing out the opening, five glasses of the fluid being necessary for Casca to rehydrate.

Sian, jacknifed to her feet , but was more than a little wobbly, as the Iconoclast helicopter blew up. "What?" She exclaimed uncertain as to exactly what has happened, but the flicker blue glow around Charli claimed her attention, and she made a correct deduction.

"Charli!" She called out at the top of her lungs. Then she cursed alould as she ws apparently unheard. With a thought she aported her field medit kit from where it lay in the lower level. "Scott can you bring that?" She asked and without waiting for a reply sprinted towards the other side of the room.

Jackie had not been in a postion to see what had happened, and as the firefight had fallen silent had turned to check on a small knot of Night Life that he had guided into the dubious safety of the maze like back stage area. he knew that Sian would be concerned about any wounded.

However Sian's call had brought him out to the front of the stage, where he could see her sprinting towards the azure limned figure of Charli. He lept the short disatnce off the stage and headed that way. He noted that Red seemed to have taken a minor wound, as had others if the dried blood decorating them was theirs.

It also looked as if Godolkin and Red had found a like minded associate if the similarities in armor meant anything. But he certainly wasn't sure given the small glimpse he had of what the stranger was wearing.

It was one of those ideals ground into the head of the young Imitoran Marine. Never, ever leave anyone behind. It was something preached to a majority of forces, an ideal that was often looked at as the act of the true hero, to risk one's life in order to save another.

Robert Fortier, now dead, had always thought that the idea itself was pointless. Why risk one life to rescue another, possibly putting yourself in the situation of having to rescue two, then three, then however many more went after the inital downed soldier. However, dispite his inherint thought of the pointlesness of the ideal, he would be the first to charge in after a down commerade. And thats what he had done.

Seeing Red pinned against the wall, injured, immobile, and unarmed, the only thought he had was to get her back to cover. They could take the Iconoclasts, that was certain, but to leave someone out to be a target while others used cover was not something he would let happen. He had ducked out and run, keeping low, and slid in as he had done numerous times in previous situations.

He grabbed the stake, and twisted and pulled, trying to get leverage on a non budging object. And then he felt it. For that last split second, not even that long, a cold, sharp sting just below the base of his skull. A piercing feeling, one that drove and dug in, looking for a stop. And then he fell forward. The hand that had searched for him for years had finally held him in its grasp. The cold touch of death pulled him in to its embrace, and he sleeped the final sleep.

After surviving wars, assasination attempts, the loss of two wives, and even the wrath of the true Prince of Darkness, Robert Fortier was dead.

Sian skidded to a stop short of Charli. Casca might be willing to risk unsurvivable immolation - for if Charli's control slipped but a little, no one present would. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she searched Charlis face, worried for her. "Charli, if he was staying at the hotel, the private corridor is that way." Her voice was very low, so as to not startle the young woman, and she gestured not towards the storeroom north of the bar but to the east.

Charli simply nodded and changed direction. The lump of guilt in her throat was too great to get words past, and beside what words could be said at this point.

Jackie came up behind Sian and laid his hands lightly on her shoulders, letting her know that he was there. He looked at the limp figure in Charli's arms and growled silently. He hadn't known Fortier well, but he know what the man had been made of and those who had done this would pay. He owed him.

Loki remained silent as Casca checked on him before moving on. The combination of Rob's death and Casca still being alive had him in a considerable deal of shock. Last he saw, Casca had taken a hit in the chest and another in the face and went down for the count, or so Loki assumed.

Not only was the man still alive but he wasn't even scratched. It took a few seconds for it to finally click but eventually Loki caught on. Everyone in here had some sort of ability, or at least most of everyone. It appeared that Casca's talent was an inability to die. Loki merely whistled as it dawned upon him, both a blessing and a curse.

Getting up from his crouched position, Loki stepped out from his cover and surveyed the battle scene. All the soldiers were nice and dead, Charli even disposing them in her obvious rage over Rob's passing. Loki was a little more reluctant to employ his flames, especially for such a small task.

Looking up momentarily as the chopper exploded, Loki didn't give it much more thought as there appeared to be no current threat. Instead he moved over towards the others, weaving his way across the wasteland of battle, extinguishing flames with overwhelming gushes of water when the oppurtunity arose.

Finally arriving at the bar, Loki gazed down at Rob with a grim face. He didn't know the guy but they were fighting on the same team and it was never good to lose a man. Noting Casca's presence once again, Loki spoke softly to the large man.

"I take it death has a hard time dealing with you?"

In a secluded corner of the uppermost level of the underground car park, a young woman sat huddled against the wall, sheltering from the howling winds outside, although she had given up on trying to get some sleep. She brushed a stray lock of her long brown hair from her eyes, and pulled the dark jacket tighter around her. Beneath the windproof jacket, she adjusted the straps of the small rucksack she wore on her back, which contained most of her worldly possessions.

Her Free Eaglian national ID card bore the name ‘Pandora Tomlinson’, but neither was hers. The latter belonged to the only friend she had ever had, and had been applied to the card for the illusion that they were related. The former was the name of the project that had created her, which she had taken as her own because she had no other. She had no memory of her real name, nor even if she actually had one.

Still, at least no-one was chasing her anymore. She had seen to that. No more men in black fatigues chasing her down dark streets, and no bounty on her head any more. $40,000,000. That was what her life had been worth to those who wanted her. And that had been their initial number, if the search had gone on any longer, it would have gone up. The bright-eyed man from the High Court had told her that, after he had made sure that those responsible would never see sunlight, each other or anyone other than the prison guards, ever again.

She hated times like this; when she couldn’t do anything, for one reason or another. The stupid hurricane in this case. At times like this, her brain started thinking, and she didn’t like doing that, because it thought about her past. Or rather, the beginning of her life. She had existed for about seventeen years or so, according to the doctor who had checked her out a few months ago, during the time when she was exalted guest of the Free Eaglian government, but she had only lived for a few months, and the memories were mostly painful ones.

A tear rolled down her cheek as a particularly painful memory came back, and she shook her head fiercely to force it away. She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the collar of the jacket. She looked at the cars around her, wondering if any had been carelessly left unlocked so that she could use them as shelter. She doubted it. But then, she had other ways to get into a vehicle.

She got to her feet and walked over to the nearest vehicle, a large pickup truck, at least ten years old. She tugged at the driver door handle, but the door, as expected, refused to budge. With a small noise of frustration, she reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out an automatic pistol. Gripping it by the barrel, she swung it hard at the window, which shattered into thousands of tiny fragments on impact.

The alarm blared, only just audible over the storm, and she wrenched open the door and threw herself at the dashboard, hitting as many of the buttons as possible with her free hand, praying the alarm would stop. Somewhat to her surprise, it did, so she returned the pistol to her pocket and climbed into the vehicle. She carefully brushed as much of the glass out onto the concrete as she could, then pulled the door closed and looked at the interior. She ducked her head under the steering wheel, pulled the plastic away and fiddled with the wires beneath. Without warning, the engine caught and the woman smiled.

While on the run, she had spent some time with an auto-repairman sympathetic to her cause, and she had seen him hotwire vehicles on two occasions, paying close attention on the second. She had just mimicked what she had seen, and the engine had started. It took her only seconds from that point to find the controls for the heater and set them to high. That done, she climbed across and huddled down in the passenger footwell, which was why she had broken the driver’s side window, and closed her eyes. Now somewhere warm and out of the wind, she might be able to get some sleep.

Bull's-eye, that was for certain, as Scott saw the Trooper on the stairs get pelted with glass and heavy gun-fire, before his own table rammed right into the hapless thing's chest, sending him flying into oblivion. "That's two down. Next!", he crowed with not a small amount of pride in himself at his ability to weigh in on the situation. Literally.

"My mother taught me how to cook, and I'm not half bad if I do say so myself."

Classic evasion, was the thought that immediately came to the boy's mind, engendering a smile in spite of the situation. It almost reminded him of the past, when he had been just like any other normal teenage boy, flirting outrageously with the girls at school. Before all of this happened. Well, I'm glad my 'skills' aren't that rusty yet, heh.

"LIMEY BASTARD!!!"

"Man Down."

At that, Scott whirled around, shock starting to register in his mind. That sounded like Brutus......did Brutus mean what he thought he just meant? If so, that can't be good. Gods. What just happened?

"Damn. Stay here kid, I'm going to go see what's going on."

Still in denial of what he thought he knew was going on, Scott could only stare mutely as Pyro Lady walked away......

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

No Kristy it isn't needed any more, these are dead.

Oh.

She knew intellectually what Dr. Sian had just said, but in the chaos of the situation, she had yet to fully grasp what was going on. Thus, Kristy settled down meekly, and feeling that the older woman was still tapping into the well of Virgo, she reached into herself again, communing with the Spirit of Virgo, asking Her to keep open her Well of Nurturing open for as long as Sian needed it.

Then she heard it as well. A great explosion from some distance away, and as Sian broke her link with the young girl, Kristy, from the combined shock of the blast as well as of the suddenly severed mental connection, fell back in surprise as well.

"Wha-what just happened?"

But her frantic question went unanswered as Sian went flying off, leaving the confused girl hanging.

"Scott can you bring that?"

It was the last thing Kristy heard from Sian before the latter disappeared into the darkness altogether, leaving her alone. Not for long though, as soon her brother reappeared, lugging the Doctor's field medic pack from earlier.

"What am I, a mule.....?", she heard her brother faintly mumbling to himself, before he finally approached and looked at her. "I think it's over", he whispered to her, his grin belying the panting that he was doing, and the sweat on his forehead. Clearly, the battle had taken a lot out of Scott......and now that she thought about it, she was feeling exhausted too, from what she had just done. In fact, she didn't even feel like she could stand, but nevertheless she raised her eyes, and strained to smile for her brother.

"Then.....Bro, what do we do?"

"Dunno, Sis, but we won't ever know unless we go see what's up, right? C'mon Kristy, let's go."

And he held out his free hand for her to take, but she could barely stand, and Scott knew quite quickly that his sister wasn't about to be walking by herself anytime soon.

"Damned, what did you do? C'mon Sis, I'm gonna let you ride me, alright? Hop up!"

"Okay......"

She reached up, putting her arms around her brother's neck, and held up as Scott lifted her up onto his back. With her piggybacking on him, the two youngsters, who barely an hour ago didn't even know of the existence of any others like their kind, began the long walk to rejoin the rest.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

They were the last to arrive. But not late enough to miss the last rites of one of their own.

Slowing to a halt, Scott felt a lump in his throat, as he beheld what he had feared all along. Amongst the funeral pyres of their fallen foes, Pyro Lady was holding someone in her arms. That someone was the Gunmaster they called Fortier, and he......he was dead. A gruesome death, too, with his head.......gooshed. It was enough to make anyone sick; Scott knew it would have made him sick, if not for the fact that it had not been the first time he had seen such a death. If not for the fact that he had been responsible for some of such deaths.

He almost didn't notice his sister sliding down from behind his back. Not until he felt her body stiffening. Not until he started to hear her sob.

"Kristy, Kristy", he turned around, instinctively grabbing hold of Kristy, who had seen too the gruesomeness of his death. And unlike himself, she was unused to this; she could not handle it, and it was showing. She was in utter shock, her hands on her mouth, making squeaking sounds as the sight began to overwhelm her.

He held her tight, putting her face into his shoulders, preventing her from seeing any more. But it was apparent that even Scott was affected too, although, just as always, he was trying to be brave.

"It's alright, sis, it's gonna be alright, it's gonna be alright, oh please, God, don't break down on me, oh God, oh God......."

One of the staff braver than the rest stuck his head up finally and looked around with a stunned expression on his face. Hen he swallowed heavily and began barking orders at the rest of the surviving staff. Once they wer beginning to even look like they might follow them he looked at Casca. "Sir, would you like more water?" and he looked at Loki inquireingly as well, wondering if he needed some.

**********

Sian felt Kristies shock and closed her eyes for one long second then she was turning to the youngsters, and wrapping her arms about the pair. For a moment her eyes met Jackie's over them then she was looking down, and speaking softly. "Death isn't alwasys an enemy, and it isn't an end. It's a doorway, a change of state, of being. And tears are perfectly fine" She smiled a little sadly for though she beleived in reincarnation she knew that Fortier wouldn't be back. His God, the one he held True Faith in, wouldn't allow it. She, and the world would miss him greatly she knew.

She just hoped Charli would, it was easy for ther to see how wracked with guild the young woman was. And she knew how much they would need her in the coming war. For that is what it was not, and this just the opening salvo.

She swept her senses outward, in a strong sweep. Damn they found their way back out quickly enough

"Every one sit tight! The other group has made it to our front door, or close enough for government work!' The command in her voice caught every ones attention.

*Okay base I have angels. Kill the radars now* J'age killed the comm and smiled grimly to herself "And now I get to imitate a seven sixty seven out for a 'haul the customers to LAX and back'...NOT!" She whooped as the ramjets kicked in and the Medusa lept heavenwards, reaching the fringes of near space in a scant handfull of minutes. Then she was arming the missile, watching and listening for the lock tone. A wolfish grin curled her lips when that occured and she lovingly stroked the trigger.

*Bill the 'last's for a new satallite guys. Have we had any word yet on a strike location.*

* We have sensor readings of a strike in Houston, but our contact is not responding to her Tag activation.*

*Dead or just damanged?*

*Remote tech check sounds no damage to the unit.*

*I can eta Houston in five minutes. An excission strike.*

*But we don't know for certain.* the voice on the other end of the commo fretted.

*Doesn't matter, removal of evidence, my authorization*

*Yes Ma'am* The voice clearly made the last word mean something entirely different.

J'age pivoted the Medusa about and sent the SR-80 screaming towards the Texas coast. Only the space based sensors of the American NORAD / Space Command headquartered in Cheyenne Mountain had any hope of tracking the Medusa. And even they would have a hard time doing that, the aircrafts designers had seen to that.

Casca heard the command. More were coming. That wasn't good. He moved to the body of the Iconoclast that had taken Fortier. The man, if he could be called that, had some decent aromor. Casca took the mini gun, and all the ammo that the man had left. He also found a dagger, with an unbeleivably large handle. "Still waitning for an answer, but while we're on the subjest, Godolkin, what in Hell is the giant handle used for on this dagger?"

"As for me, Loki, looong story. I'll tell you when we get the chance."

The watcher watched as his intended target went down. The act had been foolish, beyond that. He had to have known that his actions would have gotten him killed, they hadn't removed all the targets yet. And why would he waste his time rescuing someone who had gone down? All that would have ment was that the person, one who he had heard refered to as Red, wasn't skilled or worthy for the fight. Maybe this man that he had sought out wasn't a worthy kill after all.

Still, this group had managed to take out a number of these soldiers, and that was impressive. They would be a better kill, but not yet. No. He wanted his chance with one of the shocktroopers. His hand came to the base of his mask, and he 'scratched', gently rubbing his fingers over the metal. He observed as one took the intended kill off, no doubt to bury him in a proper warrior's funeral. The other's seemed to jump as if to prepare for another fight. Maybe this one he would get involved with, and take a trophy from one of the shock troopers.

He flexed in his crouched position, readying himself for the leap from the banisters to the ground floor. He clicked, softly, half in admiration of the warriors below him, half in preperation for a soon comming fight.

Gregorio and Odovacar had the sharpest senses out of the troopers and had caught the car alarm in the garage just a few seconds before they caught the warning from someone above.

“Someone is in the garage", Gregorio reported, "and they know we’re here.”

“Check out the garage, take Vlastimil with you.”

“Yes, Maxim”, Gregorio replied and moved away with the other trooper.

“Azrael, do you have anyone?" Maxim asked his sharpshooter.

"Negative contacts", Azrael replied, never moving away from the scope.

"Some of the stairs are still there", said Androcles, eager for action.

"And rush up in full view of the blasphemy, the traitor and whomever else they may have with that. In full of an unknown number of enemies who have apparently retired an entire squad of Shocktroopers?" Maxim asked sarcastically.

"They're fools", Androcles replied, "we all know how limited they are."

"Yes", Maxim replied, "but they are TOUGH fools. You want something to do?"

"YES, Maxim", Androcles replied eagerly.

"Good, circle the building and see if you can find away to get to the upper level from outside."

Androcles scowled but moved off to try to find a way to climb up to the level they were on from outside.

"Aaa..aAh folks" The voice sounding from the clubs speakers had every one jumping "TTthis is MMMad ...MmMax up in the dddj's box. Why don't a..a..aaaall of us who can help aa..aaall those who aa..aaalmost can. Head into th..the..the back, we can take that way out, ju...ju...just do a sneak out the back, while they come in the fff..f.fffront."

Max, the DJ, had never had a violent thought in his life. Every one knew he was not only a total pacifist, but not the brightest color in the crayon box either. ANs it didn't seem to phase him one bit that his voice was echoing through out the building...and further...

"Death isn't alwasys an enemy, and it isn't an end. It's a doorway, a change of state, of being. And tears are perfectly fine"

God, I hate it when people start saying things that go right over my head, Scott thought morosely to himself, as Kristy snuggled tighter against him. At this point, he didn't even care if Jean Grey could hear him; probably she would, but it wasn't his fault he didn't understand a word of what she was saying. But whatever it was, it seemed to have helped at least one of the Halliwells; he could feel his sister finally relaxing. And the dampness he felt on his chest, the way her sobbing settled into a more regular rhythm, told him that she was taking the good Doctor's advice. Even so, he could barely hear her sobbing; she never was particularly loud at anything she did.

Lord. She's only fourteen. She shouldn't have to see this. Not this way.

"Every one sit tight! The other group has made it to our front door, or close enough for government work!' "

What, there are more of these bastards around?!

"You gotta be kidding me, woman!", he blurted out before he could stop himself. We got one dead, Pyro Lady's walking wounded, and if I'm thinking right, they'll know we're ready for them this time. Now what do we do?!, he screamed silently in his head, glancing around sharply at each of them in turn. This is one hell of a long night.

"Kristy, sit down, and don't run away, y'hear me?", he said sternly to his sister, sitting her down on the floor, and disengaging from her grasp. Normally, as scared as she was, Kristy would have refused to let go; but this time, she was still so shell-shocked on witnessing Gunman's death, that she didn't even resist.

"Sorry, Kristy. Your Bro's got a job to do. I'll be back before you know it, alright?"

And with that, he turned back to the rest, failing to notice the strange look in his sister's eyes. A look of blankness, a look that was devoid of all the emotion she would normally have no qualms about expressing.

Pandora had dropped off into a light doze within minutes of curling up in the warm interior of the pickup. She was exhausted, and hadn’t slept for nearly forty-eight hours, having spent them hitch-hiking to the city, then trying to find somewhere to hole up for a day or so. The hurricane had closed down her plans, forcing her to take cover in the car park of whatever building it was until it died down.

She also hadn’t eaten since early that morning, and that had been no more than a couple of pastries from a bakery. Her stomach growled as she slept, causing her to shift slightly, a small moan passing her lips. Her face creased in a grimace, then relaxed into a placid expression as the pang of hunger passed.

She rarely slept well, even for one who usually slept in the streets. But then, it wasn’t her choice of location that was usually the problem. Her past, which haunted her waking memories, positively tormented her in dreams.

“Run!” shouted the voice. Her body complied. She tried to remain, but her legs wouldn’t stop moving. She cried out in frustration, her arms reaching out to try and grab hold of the owner of the voice. But her mind was ignored, and she could only watch as the man was dragged away by black-clad figures. A brilliant flash blinded her momentarily…

They were trapped in the small room, the only exit blocked by the men in black. She looked fearfully at her companion, who smiled reassuringly at her. Gunfire rattled, and she watched the rounds kick up little puffs of dust as they hit the floor between them. Suddenly a black figure appeared in the doorway, the sub-machinegun in its hands flashing twice. Her companion fell back, crumpling to the floor with two holes in his chest. She screamed, then she was blinded again…

She was running, but it felt as though she was caught in slow motion. Her body responded sluggishly, her eyes seeing nothing in the darkness that surrounded her. Fear clawed at her heart as she heard the heavy footfalls behind her. Gloved hands reached for her from all directions, tugging at her clothing as she passed. Then she tripped, and fell into the darkness. Unable to move, she saw the black-clad figure reach for her…

She awoke with a gasp, shivering despite the vents by her head and feet pumping out warm air. Completely disoriented by the nightmare, she blinked and looked around, trying to recall where she was. That memory returned easily, but something felt wrong.

Her instincts had proved themselves in the past, so she pulled the automatic from the jacket pocket, and released the magazine. Laying the pistol on the seat next to her, she removed all the rounds from the magazine, relaxing the spring, then refilled it. She knew that a freshly filled magazine was less likely to jam than one which had sat loaded for days. When she was done, she inserted the magazine back into the pistol and pulled back the slide to chamber a round. She then laid the weapon back on the seat while she withdrew the two spare magazines she had and repeated the process with those.

The pistol was nothing special; a Kolbe-Bell PS-21 10mm automatic with a 15-round magazine, it’s only advantage over other weapons was that it tended to jam less often. Her model was a factory-standard one, with no alterations or specialised components, and indeed slightly battered, but she wouldn’t let it go for anything. It meant a lot to her.

Once both spare magazines were loaded again, she put them and the pistol back in her pockets. The entire procedure had taken her less than two minutes. Now she moved her body, putting her feet beneath her so she could see out of the pickup, her eyes just looking over the top of the door frame. She looked out across the car park, searching for the reason she felt uneasy.

Gregorio and Vlastimil began thier sweep in typical fashion following Red's own page from her book. Start low and work up. Don't give them a way out and don't let them around you. So section by section then level by level they quickly moved through the garage area.

****

Androcles was furious about having to get assigned to this foolishness but had no intentions of crossing Maxim. He had wanted a chance at the blasphemy himself, if not the traitor as well. It was for that reason that finding the drive in the back to the delivery entrance had brought a smile to his face.

"Maxim, I have a back entrance"

"Take cover and watch, I'm sending Kallikrates to back you up", and with that a trooper moved away from the group. "Renatus, take the opposite way and make sure there are no other exits." And with that another trooper moved away.

****

Red chewed her lip a moment. What was the doc had told her? Math, songs. Well she sucked at math and so she ran songs through her head as she struggled with herself. Finally she made up her mind. Enough people had died because of her. "GET OUT!" she shouted suddenly and ran to the half wall, clearing it in a single leap and preparing to land and roll, knowing that her injured leg would never take the jarring impact.

"RED!!", Godolkin shouted, far to late and charged toward the wall himself.

"GET OUT"

Sians head snapped around and for half a second she blined at Red's charging figure, then she acted. Psionics are light speed, perhaps faster than, and in that faster than her body went awash with inner light, brighter than the kelig flood that had silouetted the Challenge Dancer earlier. An her telekensis grabbed Red, wrapped her in an inpenatrable net as the Huntress began her suicidal leap over the half wall, and with out sepcial gentleness brough her back to hover before Sian's glowing figure.

Not on MY Watch damn it. She didn't bother to direct that, it went to every one with in her not inconsiderable range.

However, Sian was on the ragged edge of exhaustion. For in less than a half hours time she had done multiple aports, had telekentically imploded the elevators and their structural support shafts of glasss, metal, and reinforced concrete. All under the greatly limited access induced by her current condition.

Jackie had wrapped himself in darkness so as to not be blinded but he never took his hands from Sian's shoulders, but turned it into a supportive clasp

She set Red down with an audilbe plop and continued verbally, her body shaking with exhaustion. "Don't you dare go and kill yourself. You are needed, and wanted, so don't you dare go off the deep end. If I can't, you can't."

Sian turned her head to where Charli stood blank faced in front of a concealed door. Charli was balnkly wondering how she had intended to get through it. She wasn't mentally coherent enough to remember that Scott had her card.

Sian shifted modes, and slammed into Charli's nartural shields, penetrating them and giving the young woman the psionic equivallent of a slap to the face. Charli hea physically slewed to the side in readction and instinctively launched an attack against the one who had attacked her. Sian stopped it, but her face behind the light was contorted with strain, and every cell in her body cried out at the draining of the energy needed to stop Charli's attack and hold her as she came to her senses. But she managed to barely.

Then she was collapseing bonelessky towards the floor and Jackie, even though he had been helping her stand, barely managed to catch her before she hit.

He cradled her close to him and looked at the others, most specifically Red and Casey "Who here has the most combat experience, and if it's me, we are in trouble." He was a hitman, an assassin, and while he had participated in many a gun battle, he certainly didn't equate it to some one having recieved military training in combat. "And if it's high calibur guns and ammo we need, I can make us that, not unlimited amounts but enough."

Ryan was getting somewhat annoyed at each of the ways down or back to the hotel were either trashed, inaccessible or otherwise involved an unpleasently long drop. As he kept looking for ways down so he could get ahold of his proper armour and gear, he heard a pair of shouts.

Turning he saw the one who'd gotten 'staked' making a dash for the railing so she'd be able to jump down, and considering the state of her leg probably waste it. As she jumped, a blinding light flashed and the woman got pulled back onto the stable side of the floor.

Walking back over to the rest of the group, he head the man supporting the human lightbulb ask about combat experiance. He had a good deal of it, even if he prefered ghost style combat, but bragging wasn't a part of his nature. "Does anyone have a way down from this floor or a way to get to the mini-mall and hotel?"

Charli caught herself, taking a deep gasp of air, sanity surfaceing like something from the depths emerging slowly silently but certainly. "You are my friend Rob, and I'll get you home, but right now I have other things to do." She said softly as she laid his still body on a nearby table and turned back to the group.

"Who here has the most combat experience, and if it's me, we are in trouble."

"Don't look at me, I deal cards and jump smoke. Is Dr. Rhys all right?"

'She's breathing stead, and her pulse is good." But Jackie replied but still looked worried.

"Does anyone have a way down from this floor or a way to get to the mini-mall and hotel?"

"There are several private ways doen and across, but taking thi into an area filled with Mundanes is the last thing we want. I thought I head the DJ. Did we?"

Sone of the Night Life who had bee caught in the crossfire and still managed to survive called out that she had.

"Then the generators have reset and we've got more power. The private elevator can take some of us down to the armory to restock. And shouldn't we get the civilians out of here?"

Then something vibrating against her wrist caught her attention and she paled. "Erm, we have additional problems."

"Frankly I couldn't care less about miscelleneous casulties." He commented without a trace of sarcasm, humour or anything that might imply he was joking.

"It sounded like the DJ, and what is this problem?" He asked, annoyed that his night of relaxing was degenerating into a Mess of the first order. Normally when he was in this mood, he'd quite frequently head out and find a couple thugs and pound them a deal before delivering them to the cops. As it was, he just seethed because he was positive that woman wouldn't tell him where the private doors were.

"Don't you dare go and kill yourself. You are needed, and wanted, so don't you dare go off the deep end. If I can't, you can't."

"Who the fuck was trying to kill themselves? I was just going to draw thier fire so everyone could get out", Red replied.

"And then what?" Godolkin asked, as he stopped his charge and came walking over.

"And then what, what?" Red asked.

"What were you going to do after we escaped?" he asked her.

"Bloody well clear out is what", she replied.

"How?" he asked in retort.

She opened her mouth to answer and then closed it again, she had no clue as she hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Who here has the most combat experience, and if it's me, we are in trouble."

"Well I have experience but not in large scale conflicts. Godolkin was made to fight in a squad. What exactly are you lookin for?"

For nearly a minute Pandora sat there, looking out of the pickup at the rest of the car park. She could see nothing moving, nor could she hear anything over the hurricane. Her eyes flicked back and forth, looking in as many places as possible, searching for the source of her unease.

Is my mind playing tricks on me? she thought, My instincts have never been wrong before. And I’m never ignoring them again. Her mind wrestled with this dilemma as she kept searching. Last time I ignored them, he… She stopped that thought dead, now wasn’t the time for that. They’ve always been right, there must be something. She blinked once, and glanced down at the interior of the pickup momentarily. Maybe there isn’t anything this time… She looked up, aiming to make one more sweep before giving up and trying to go back to sleep. And then she saw them.

Two dark figures moving swiftly, and with definite purpose, among the parked vehicles. They were several dozen metres away from her location, and she couldn’t see them clearly in the gloom, but she knew they were the reason for her discomfort. One of them turned slightly, and a shape materialised, causing a twinge of fear to tug at her heart. The figure was carrying a gun, indeed a rather large gun. After a second she realised the second figure was carrying a similar weapon.

As quietly as possible, she opened the passenger door and climbed out onto the concrete floor. Very gingerly, she pushed the door to, leaving it slightly ajar so as not to make a noise as it closed. She fished the automatic from her pocket, gripping it firmly in her right hand. She then flattened herself on her stomach, watching the progress of the two figures through the gap between the chassis of the pickup and the concrete.

The men in black; they’ve come to get me, was the first fearful thought that passed through her head. Just as quickly as it had appeared, she dismissed it. No, Insetiq is gone, and their private soldiers with them. The next thought was more plausible, but stemmed from the same fear. Are they bounty hunters? But the bounty lapsed with Insetiq. That was followed by another thought, one which actually made sense. Is it just a coincidence then? Who are they, and what are they doing here? Why now, in the middle of a hurricane? She had none of the answers to those questions, but the fact remained that she didn’t feel safe with them in the area.

"I have the most combat experience." Casca ejected the nearly empty clip. "2000 years of fighting." He took out a new one, and slammed it in. "Every major war, campaign, and historical event Anno Domini." He worked the action. "Major battles, dogfights, naval warfare, squad engagements, military campaigns, tank operations, paratrooping, special forces, melee fighting, martial arts mastery, horsemanship, gladiatorial combat, armed resistance, assassinations, artillery, and my origins, First Century Roman Legions. I'll lay out the whole story later. Suffice it to say that if a major war was going on, I was there. So, what exactly do we need to know about fighting these Iconoclasts, Godolkin?"

"It sounded like the DJ, and what is this problem?"

Charli had unwrapped the Tag from her wrist and straightened it out into phone mode and had turned away from the others as she punched in a string of numbers. She held up her hand to request that Ryan hold his questions for a moment.

At last someone seemed to answwer and her tense shoulders relaxed, for just a moment then tightened again. "Put Rio on then, she can override ..." "Damn! Find her, get her angels and here. Look I was doing you the favor and one of my few friends has been killed. This is not the time...." The contact on the other end spoke for some time.

After a few moments she seemed to relax again. She looked over at Ryan as she slapped the Tag back around her wrist "I think I've solved that problem."


***********************************

"Well I have experience but not in large scale conflicts. Godolkin was made to fight in a squad. What exactly are you lookin for?"

Jackie listened to Casca's summation, as he held Sians unconscious form. He gestured towards the immortal when he finished. "Him, I think, some one who knows tactics. I can shoot and I'm as good as anyone at taking cover, but we're going to need more than that, right?"

"Well", Red said, "looks like E's the ticket", jerking a thumb toward Casca.

Now that there was somewhat of a lull at least, which made Godolkin wonder what was going on he turned to Casca. "They have honeycombed plastisteel torso armor and metal mesh shirt and pants. Your best bet is high caliber weapons, armor piercing ammunition. A squad consists of twelve men, Two will have full warpacks, meaning 10,000 rounds of ammunition for the mini-guns but no purifiers. A purifier is the flame throwing device. The other ten will have a pack with 2,000 rounds of ammunition and a purifier. The bullets are nine millimeters, small caliber but more can fit in a pack. All carry stakers but only use them against Lycans or vampires. They're silver stakes with enchantments and all carry this", he said, taking the odd looking sword from Casca. He pointed the tip away from everyone and showed Casca the hilt. On one end of the cross quillion was the image of christ, on the other was the symbol for the trinity. A cross was on either side of the cross quillion just below the blade and above the handle. Holding the sword in his right hand with the face of christ up he flipped the cross on the outside with his forfinger and then pressed the cross on the inside with his thumb. Suddenly the blade extended to a five and half foot length. "It's also enchanted for Lycans and vampires", he told him. Then he reversed the cross on the outside again and depressed the one on the inside, retracting the blade to it's carry length. "It can be used short or long, but long requires a two handed grip."

That Pandora didn't feel safe in the area wasn't surprising considering what she was seeing:

http://www.atddm.com/ff1.jpg

They didn't look to be mercenary's and they certainly didn't seem to just be passing through. One looked to another, apparently having heard him somehow. The one pointed toward Pandora, or at least it seemed to, it was certainly pointing toward the still running truck, the vehicle in the garage with it's engine on.

They had full body articulated plate with head protection and visor and seemed to be carrying ultra light weight, recoilless automatic rifles. On one side they had what looked like an automatic sidearm and on the other was a sheath for a knife. Over on shoulder on thier backs were pouches.

Taking the sword back from Godolkin, Casca extended it as shown. "Glam would have loved this. Probably could have used it with two fingers and a thumb as well." Casca retracted the blade, and stuck it to his belt. "Well, I don't plan to use it agianst Weres or Vamps, but it should at least be able to decapitate the Shock Troopers.

"Rob was right. We have to get out of here. As of now, running is our best bet. I need to stop by the hotel first, a single item that I have to bring at all costs. Somebody mentioned another squad. that means, at worst, another round of this fighting, but now we're a man short, and the good doctor," he motioned towards Jackie and Sian, "Is definitely too exhausted to do anything. We're going by foot. Right now, I need to know how many are injured, and how badly. If possible, we need to get those that can't keep up out first. I know for a fact that I can make it. I am willing to bet lives on it, indeed, I have to. These stakes aren't light. If you're incapacitated, tell me. I've fought enough to know that it is better to have less people that are healthier than more people with a number of injuries. Anybody else think that they have a better plan, step up now. We don't have much time, so let's get rolling."

"Well", Red replied, "you do what you want. I'll stay by the doc."

Godolkin would have been surprised just a short time ago. Wounded and dead were useless and not worth the time and effort. Now, however, he had to agree. The woman had saved thier lives and probably Red's twice. He didn't say a word, simply moved over to stand by Red.

"Good. I didn't want to say anything, but that leg of yours would slow us down. Get her and the kids out of here, the pyro as well if she needs it. Godolkin, I trust your judgement. Jackie, how many can you take with you? I need to know how much time I have to give you."

"GET OUT"

And just like that, Carrot Top suddenly decided that she was up for a leap out into the great beyond, probably looking to splatter herself into the ground way below in the meantime. Scott could only stare at her incredulously.

She's lost it, damned.

And Brutus was yelling too, going after her, but she was too fast for him.Thankfully enough, Jean Grey managed to catch her in time, bringing her back from the void with the pure power of her mind. And she was pissed too, he could see that, even without her Not on MY Watch damn it ringing in his head. Damned. I don't think I'll ever get used to people talking in my head.

But it seems like Jean Grey definitely had bitten off more than she could chew this time, collapsing into the ground just like that as Jackie caught her from dropping to the floor altogether. The battle had taken a toll on all of them, he could see, and while he personally still felt well enough for one more round if need be, Scott also knew that was the last thing he wanted, with the rest of them all worn out as they looked.

"Who here has the most combat experience, and if it's me, we are in trouble. And if it's high calibur guns and ammo we need, I can make us that, not unlimited amounts but enough."

"There are several private ways doen and across, but taking thi into an area filled with Mundanes is the last thing we want. I thought I head the DJ. Did we?......Then the generators have reset and we've got more power. The private elevator can take some of us down to the armory to restock. And shouldn't we get the civilians out of here?......Erm, we have additional problems."

"Understatement of the year, lady", he could not help but blurt out. "We've still got some peeps out there from what Jean Grey says, and it don't look like we can survive another attack."

Then more talking ensued which the boy quite didn't catch, and at this point, he was just waiting around to see what needed doing. As it was, they seemed to have quite forgotten him, which would be the perfect chance for him to scoot out of the trouble he was in. Except that this time, scooting wasn't what he felt like doing anymore. Not with all that had happened.

If you're incapacitated, tell me. I've fought enough to know that it is better to have less people that are healthier than more people with a number of injuries. Anybody else think that they have a better plan, step up now. We don't have much time, so let's get rolling."

"Well......", he suddenly piped up, not sure what he was trying to say. "First, we gotta get out, right? So we gotta find a way out, a way that the second group out there has to follow us through, so it'll be easier to take them......."

He thought again for a moment, trying to figure out just what he was trying to say. Then, it hit him.

"Guys, you know that cart that went kaboom? Yeah, that was me, or rather that was Miss Pyro over there", he started up again, gesturing to Charli. "There's more where that came from, so what I think is we need to set up traps. Now I don't know much about guns and stuff, but I've read about what a claymore probably is, which we don't have from what I heard. Well, we might be able to use those as substitutes", he continued, "place the damned chemicals in more carts and put them somewhere where they'll have to follow us. Then Miss Pyro can wait, and make them all go kaboom when they come. Problem remains where do we go, and where should I put them in the first place. Just throwing out ideas, y'know, I'm just tryin' to help even though I don't know nuts", he finished, shrugging aimlessly. Well, at least I tried.

In the midst of all this discussion, no one noticed that Kristy had gone missing......

"Wouldn't work, kid. What happens to the pyro? We leave her behind? No offence, but that already went through, and was eliminated. However, if you get me a trip wire and the right chemicals, then I can build us the right bombs. As for now, I want us downstairs. I need ammo. I am sure some of you others do as well. Jackie, if you need to teleport with that darkness thing, you'll have space, and time. I just need to know how to get out of here by foot, once you guys are gone. I can wait for the next group."

Red peered at Casca, "Slew us down will I? I'd kick your arse on ma worse day."

"Red", Godolkin said, stepping between her and Casca.

"Who does he think he is? Bloody twit."

"Red, he doesn't know your regenerative powers", Godolkin told her.

"Well he'll bloody well find won't he?"

"He regenerates rapidly himself", Godolkin informed her.

"Oh bless. Then I'll have flippin good time shovin him in the cooker won't I?"

Godolkin sighed, "Red, please, now is not the time."

"Right. We'll put him the cooker later then, shall we?" She turned to Jackie, "If you bloody well thought of puttin this bloke in charge you can count me out", she told him and started walking away.

"Red", Godolkin tried again.

"WHAT?"

"Why haven't they attacked?" he asked her.

"Well how the hell do I know? I"m up here now aren't I?"

"They would have just attacked, you know that, if you'll just calm down a minute."

"Calm down? You have Hitler over there seperatin the jews for execution and you want me to calm down?"

"Red, if they're Iconoclasts, they should have attacked by now."

Red worried her lip again and nodded, "Right, they should have. Mayber they're calling in another squad."

Pandora watched the two figures moving, then noticed the interaction between them. She interpreted this as them having personal radio communication sets, which brought up a new danger. If I have to fight them, they might call in reinforcements, she realised. Then fear clutched at her heart, as one pointed directly at the pickup she was hiding behind.

She felt a tremor run through her left arm as the two figures approached, and she noticed more about them as they closed. They bore more than a passing resemblance to Insetiq’s Black Puma operatives that had been sent to recapture her after her escape, clothed in full body armour.

As her mind raced, considering options and circumstances, she suddenly realised that the fear had gone. There were no butterflies in her stomach, her hands weren’t trembling and she was thinking clearly. Maybe it’s because they look like the men in black, she thought, I can face them without fear, because I already have. She accepted this theory without giving it much thought, or thinking back to her encounters with the Black Pumas.

She brought the automatic forwards, knowing that there was a round in the chamber and the safety catch was off. She didn’t know why, but she knew she would have to kill these men to stay alive, a thought which didn’t bother her anything like as much as it had the first time she had been in a battle.

The armour didn’t worry her either, her experiences with Insetiq’s Black Pumas and their experimental armour had taught her that. The pistol in her hand, the spare magazines in her pocket and the box of ammunition in her bag all carried armour-piercing rounds. She would take nothing less for her precious automatic.

Now controlling her breathing, Pandora continued to watch the operatives approach. She would wait for them to get within a bare few metres before engaging if possible, knowing that rifles were far less use at short ranges, and could even become a hindrance.

They advanced slowly, one along the line of cars the truck was in, the others along the line of cars on the opposite side of the drive lane. The opposite would move one car length ahead and then kneel for cover, his rifle pointed toward the truck, the other would then move right across from the first, the opposite side man always moving first.

They had already tried shifting from standard vision, through thermal, which was hampered by the trucks engine and exhaust and through electro-magnetic and back to normal again. At two car widths from the truck the opposite lane one shouldered the rifle and drew his sidearm. It was an automatic with a long enough grip for twenty or thirty shots. Once he was covering the truck again the first shouldered his own rifle and drew the same type of sidearm. They then moved to within one car width. The question now was would the opposite man stay where he was while the second looked in to find no one there, or would he move forward to get to the passanger side of the truck before they checked the interior?

"Ah, please, maybe I can help, a little" Tanya had limped over, and tugged at Ryan's sleeve. Blooded trickled down from a small head wound and she'd collected some other scrapes and bruises in her dive behind a table when the first wave of attack had started.

"Look she said that they were at the front door, right?" Tanya raised her voice so that the other group could hear it. "I can only reach about that far, but here."

She closed her eyes and concentrated hard.

It wasn't quite life size but what was by the front door became a somewhat wavery three dimentional hologram.

http://www.atddm.com/ff1.jpg

and Jackie said it first. "Those definitely aren't the same hitters as the first group."

"No", Red replied, "fraid I don't know those blokes." She walked over to a body and said, "sorry", as she tore several strips of clothe from the corpse and moved over to Tanya.

Godolkin looked at it intently and then shook his head, "They aren't familiar to me either", he said and looked at Red, "Agents?"

"Right, love", she said to Tanya, "rest yerself now, we got the picture. No pun intended." She began dabbing at the blood and the cut, "Tell me if it's rough, right? I ain't no medic." She glanced over at Godolkin, "No, ain't no agent. Those things stick out worse an you do."

Red wouldn't normally bother tending to wounded, but since Sian was down because of her lack of forethought she felt she should do something.

"It's good to see you're alright." He commented as he saw his waitress. Tearing off another strip of his shirt, he prepared to wrap it around her headwound. "So do you know a way out of here?" He asked as he noticed that Red had beaten him to the punch of treating her.

"Thier armour vaguely look like mine." He commented as he looked at the hologram. "And if you don't know a way out of here, then where is the armoury so I can make a way out."

"Just so you know, Red, I was the guy that made sure Hitler didn't get a glorious suicide. More like a wimpering slaying. Don't get me started on the two Great Wars. Jackie over there asked for combat experience. I have plenty to spare. You can regenerate, but obviously somebody," he gestured at the collapsed doctor, "knew that your jump would slow you down considerably. You can die. I can't. I'm interested in getting everybody out of here. Now, you said something important, so please explain. Why haven't they attacked us yet?"

The time had come. If she didn’t act now, they would be on both sides of her, leaving her without cover and in a very dangerous position. It was apparent to her that the soldiers were well trained; they had switched from rifle to pistol now they were within a few metres of the object of their investigations.

Pandora rolled sideways, so she was behind the engine block of the truck, the only part of the vehicle which could reliably stop a bullet, and used her arms to lift her upper body, tucking her legs in underneath her, bringing her into a crouch. With the pistol held in both hands, she breathed in and then out again, leaving her lungs empty. It would make her hands steadier, although at this range, and with the amount of time she was going to spend aiming, it would make little difference.

She brought herself up onto the balls of her feet, raising her just enough to lift her eyes and hands above the level of the bonnet. The gun barked, two reports blending into one as she loosed off two rapidly aimed rounds at the chest of the nearest soldier. As soon as she had fired, she dropped back below the line of the truck, trusting her ears to tell her the result of the shots.

Her instincts told her that the second soldier would probably try to engage her while the first remained under cover, if he was still alive, so she pivoted slightly on her feet, allowing her to more easily cover the area where the other could appear.

"Thet's jest it", Red replied, nodding to Ryan to go ahead and use the clothe he had, it was cleaner than hers. "Iconoclasts would ave." She looked at Ryan's armor then considered the image again. "Similah, yeah, but these ave dinnah jackets by comparison." Then she looked back at Casca, though she still didn't seem happy with him, "Iconoclasts would spread out for lesser chance of dameeg, but they would've moved right in, see? These blokes are jest sittin there. And they ain't no agents for sure. Agents is s'posed ta look more like normals, not less. These blokes couldn't hide in a hallow's eve pahty."

Vlastimil shattered the window behind him as the shots impacted. They had flattened after penetrating the armor and tore into flesh, but were further slowed by the metal mesh that had been surgically implanted beneath the dermal tissue as well as around vital organ. The slowed bullets and denser than normal bone stopped them at the rib cage. They penetrated deep enough to hit nerves, that had been stunted so as not to reach the epidermal tissue and deaden pain, but the fact was that he simply didn't have the time to give into it. Rather than try to recover he let himself drop to the asphalt and began firing under the chassis's of the vehicles.

"Maxim, we're under fire. One thus far", Gregorio reported and rather than fire back he holstered the side arm and pulled a grenade from the pouch. He pulled the pin, let go the handle and began counting to seven, using as much time as possible so as not to have it thrown back at him or Vlastimil.

"Eliminate the target, call for support if you encounter further resistance."

"Confirmed", Gregorio replied.

"Renatus, report", came Maxim's sharp order.

"Negative entry points, I should be at Androcles in a matter of moments."

Tanya appreciated the attention, giving both of them tired smiles .

"And if you don't know a way out of here, then where is the armoury so I can make a way out."

She also knew that most of those left alive in the club wouldn't have been any help against the first set and these new ones sure seemed like major trouble.

"Look let us get every one rounded up and do like Max suggested- the able help those who aren't and get them down to the lowest level, where the armory is. If we got spread out through the tunnels would they chase us?" She gulped and asked a question she didn't want to ask.

"If we" And it was definite that she included herself in the 'we'. "held their attention here it would give the rest of " Her hand swept out to include the shell shocked survivors slowly emerging from the various places they had freverently hoped were safe. "Them a chance to get away."

Max had realised what he had done and once he'd shut the sound system down he had hurried from the DJ's sky box and taken the dumbwaiter down. Working his way from the back stage area he trotted over to Tanya's side.

"Yep the dumbwaiter is working. An' that has to draw a load as it's our heavy cargo lift. Would getting up on the roof do any good? We can't cross the Overlook, I don't think but there are plenty of things to hide behind up there, if you're going to be shooting at people" He looked ready to cry over that notion, but determined to make any suggestions he thought might help.

"Ya want ta help?", Red asked Max, "Then don't be announcin things over the bloody P.A." Red told him crossly, then looked around. "If these buggers are as tough as Iconoclast, and they definitely ave a bit more post in the postbox, then these people ain't goin to be much help." She looked back at Jackie, "She shoulda let me go. It's me they want and I'd've drawn em off more surely than anythin else."

"It's US they want", Godolkin put in.

"Yeah, but a'm they're main objective now, ain't I?"

"Yes, but why?"

"Well, a'm a damn sight prettier an you, an I can snog a man to submission", Red replied grinning, some of her old self coming back, for better or for worse.

"I meant why do they want to capture you now rather than retire you."

"Well I don't bloody well know and I ain't about to stroll down for a parley now am I?"

"Snogging, what ever that may be is just going to have to wait." Charli said crossly. "So is parlay. It never was honored anyway if the movies are correct...'more of a guideline' " She gace an elegant snort and continued " I don't want to see any of us dieing. And I think I may have a way outta here. I got problem number SR-80 aborted." She tapped the Tag curled around her wrist. "And I think I can get a limited number out of here but it's going to take some time to happen. The hard point was up not the transport. They've been waiting for this to break, but they had to snag an eye in the sky while they could."

She looked over at Max. "She's right no more telling them what we're up to loud and clear. And whats the ...Max this place was built as a bomb shelter, and Cain never changed any of the basic structure, right?"

The DJ went from looking abashed to looking eager, glad to be of help to make up for his earlier error "Yeah, I helped construct it back in the fifties, was the big talk of its day. Supposed to be able to drop a big one on it and it hold up."

"Then the roof would have to be able to support a lot of weight. We could ..." She unwrapped the Tag from about her wrist and began punching numbers into it.

"The walking wounded help the not walking wounded, not the hale helping the ill." Ryan thought as he listened to the waitress. "You'll have to count me out of that rear-guard action, unless of course one of you can get me to my hotel room first." He personally wasn't to enthused with serving as a rear-guard period, but was most definately not going to be all that co-operative without his armour.

"Why would they want you two?" He asked Red and her Iconoclast companion.

Red narrowed her eyes looking at Charli, "What did you just say?"

"SR-80 is combat aircraft", Godolkin told her, "they had one inbound apparently. I'm not sure why they needed the 'eye in the sky'. That's a satellite and I think she's requesting a transport to get us away from here."

"Well she bloody well could have said so", Red replied and looked at Ryan. "I used to werk for Tamerlane, a big wig there. I was his huntress. I killed the nightlife I was ordered to kill. When the Iconoclast project came online and was tested he ordered my retirement. And for the record, the retirement package consisted of a shallow grave if you was lucky. Godolkin had succeeded in several missions by then and was ordered to retire me, poor bloke. I had the fortune of luring them into the open and getting in among them. Godolkin lived because I needed to feed, as it weren't no easy fight. Since then, he's been with me and labeled a traitor."