[H3][color=gray]The Dreadnaughts[/color][/h3][hr]

As Grit followed the stranger through the halls within a safe distance, there was one thing that became abundantly clear: the man didn’t seem to be on either side of the conflict. The disregard to the agents and the mercilessness he displayed toward the Fiends – whoever it was, they were third party. Much like the Dreadnaughts in a way, but at least they were picking a side to fight on. If this man was free-roaming, or a wild card, then he could just as easily be payed to fight [i]them[/i]. This was less an issue, the mercenary wouldn’t stand a chance against the Dreadnaughts’ full fighting force, but he could be a nuisance if he interrupts one of their operations. The stranger appeared to be heading directly towards the sound of action. The stranger was hunting the heart – if he planned to kill Khan, Grit had to do something about him. Washe said that under any circumstance, Khan mustn’t die. If Khan dies, the trail is as good as cold and the mission would practically fail.

And it wasn’t before long the stranger made contact. One shot later, after downing the wrong person – one of Khan’s lieutenants, dead, just like that – Khan flew into a frenzy, and began her relentless assault on the stranger with her grenades… prompting Grit to retreat further down the halls, out of their field of vision. The stranger was yelling madly, spouting crazed yelping like a hydrophobic dog.
 
“Shit, I didn’t come just to put down some loony psycho… huh, I wonder if he used to be a Fiend.”

After an incredibly intense skirmish between the two, the fight had been brought to the railings, where one could fall with the other. Khan was thrown over, who pulled the stranger with her. One thing he forgot about Khan was her ability to turn into mist. [i]’So she’s kinda like Baron? Except she is a bit more of a, ah… a freak.’[/i]

The stranger hit the lobby ground as a crumpled mess. Khan was floating down to finish the job.

Grit bit his lip. This wasn’t good. Khan wasn’t going the direction the ‘Naughts wanted her to go. He had to get her back on track somehow. Not just that; as much as he wanted the stranger to stay of the Dreadnaughts’ way, the man was no longer in any position to fight. He was at Khan’s mercy. And after a fall like that, his career as a vigilante was over. That there was some permanent damage, and it appealed to Grit’s sense of mercy.

[i]’Ah, shit.’[/i]

Grit rushed over to the edge and looked down. She was near him already. He swung his acquired AK over the side, and let rip a hail of bullets, which simply went straight through her gaseous form. As soon as she looked up, he gave her an ample amount of time to look at his face, before sprinting off down a hall in the other direction.

[hr]

Baron followed Lihua down the halls, trying as hard as he could to keep up with her. Something wasn’t right with that other woman, Ariella. His eyes were narrowed as she spoke, and he was watching her intently – every twitch, expression, slightest movement of her hair. Every detail on her uniform. Most importantly, her attitude. Something wasn’t right with her, and Baron had pegged her as a noteworthy suspect. By the time this is all over, they’re going to have a little get-together. To help clear the air, so to speak. Lihua was so distracted by the assault and by her daughter, she probably did not think anything of Ariella. But in the moment, he made his best effort to keep focused on the current task at hand, much like Lihua was. It was the curse of all geniuses.

They happened across another woman agent, being beaten by a Fiend who was snappily taken care of by Lihua. From behind, another Fiend came to supplement the ambush. Baron reflexively reached forward with the palm of his hand and pushed up on the trowel-armed Fiend’s face, who had nowhere to go but down – and after falling, Baron’s drawn Caracal C was pressed against his belly, pushed just under his ribs and pointed towards his head, and Baron fired. The Fiend’s body muzzled the sound of gunfire, and the bullet ripped through their internals. Baron stood himself back up, regaining his composure as he looked at the Fiend he had just killed, disappointed.

If his agent friend was watching, then it was clearly obvious that his composure was more or less a smoke-screen. Psychologists, whether they worked for a PMC or not, were hardly as cold and merciless as this execution was.

As Lihua assessed the situation with the downed agent, Baron muttered to himself. “A shame... I wonder what his story was.”

Next thing he knew, another Fiend began charging out. Neither he nor Lihua had time to react, before he, too, had fallen. Another agent had appeared behind the crazed assailant and with a well-aimed shot, may have well saved Lihua’s life.

“Clarke.”

“Lihua.”

Baron straightened his suit and rubbed the back of his neck. They exchanged words, Lihua delivered some weapons, and the man was on his way as quick as that.

“Let’s go.” Lihua said.

Baron nodded and began to follow her lead… that is, until a body just fell a story or two above their own floor, whizzing past them. Then he hit the ground with a sickening crack. Baron stood there wide-eyed in disbelief.

“My God, this place is a mad house.”

Baron looked over the edge to see a man, practically unconscious. He looked up, and there he saw Khan floating gently towards him. He quickly moved away from the railing and looked at Lihua. “It seems as though our target is coming to us.”

Then a hail of gunfire barraged through the air which Khan was occupying. Whatever was happening, Baron admittedly felt frustrated about being out of the loop.