[center][img]http://www.snazzyspace.com/banner-creator/banners/1489953268.png[/img] [@Indy Cooper] Nicholas Church was contemplating getting lunch with his daughter when he heard the gunshots, standing in the motel room, staring into the street below with a pair of binoculars. He was not pleased with what he saw. In a square about a block away and across the street, a caped hero (and her discreet escort; Nick had seen them arrive. They weren't military, but they were Federal forces, judging by their gear. Who knows. Either way, they were there to back up the Meta should this apparent sting op go wrong.) And while it seemed to be something Nick could just wait out, at first, he soon realized that he could not just stand by and watch. These were Hounds troops. Quite possibly an entire cell, deployed at once, judging by the amount of sheer firepower and bodies to use it that they had brought. And the Hounds had learned a disturbing number of Metas' personal information, leading to more direct attacks, in some areas. That meant they could know about Abigails' secret. And if they sent a squad to secure the motel as a fallback point, like November would if he were in their shoes... Quickly checking his two handguns and putting them in his coat and hip holsters, November picked up his MP5K, hefted it, and jammed three extra magazines in his belt. He had a feeling he would need them. Abigail came out of the motel bathroom, startled by the gunshots. "Dad? What's going on?" Lifting a pair of walkie-talkies, Nick handed his daughter one. [color=MediumSlateBlue]"If you hear anything, tell me. Tap the call button twice if you can't talk without someone hearing. Got it?"[/color] Dumbfounded, Abigail nodded, before quickly latching onto her father's arm. "Wait! If there's something going on, I could help!" She gave her most winning smile, and then continued, "Please, dad! I'm literally freakin' invincible!" Nick just shook his head, pressing the walkie-talkie into her hands more forcefully. [color=MediumSlateBlue]"No, Abby. Stay here, and signal me if someone tries to get into the motel, okay?"[/color] Abby started to complain, but then realized the futility of it. ".... Alright, dad." Nodding, Nick gave himself a once over, checking that everything was present, and then exited the motel room. When he stepped onto the balcony, it was still in the early stages of chaos. People looking around wildly, conferring in each other, talking about where the gunshots came from. Pushing past an elderly couple who were bickering with each other while a wildly uncomfortable room service lady looked on, November quickly snuck down the stairs, keeping the submachine gun held to his side, and hoping that no one would notice. Walking with purpose to the square, (where the meta had begun to battle the Hounds of Humanity with SWAT support,) MP5k at the ready, November was hyperaware of his surroundings, checking every corner and making sure to pay attention to his peripherals. He was crouched behind a (now-vacant) newsstand, when even more black vans began to unload Hound troops and then drive forward, doors open. Machineguns in the doors, on both sides, manned. Well this was turning out to be a pleasant fucking afternoon. Grimacing and taking aim, Nick fired at a nearby Hound, catching the entire squad by surprise. As soon as he saw the man begin to fall, a bullet through his eye, the former SEAL moved to another insurgent, continuing his grim work with a vicious efficacy. It took the Hounds two more soldiers to realize that they were the ones being fired upon, instead of the meta in the square. Falling back to points of cover, the Hounds desperately looked for their assailant, scanning the street. Those that poked their heads out of cover got a bullet in the brain, and the gunners in the vans were the first to die. Those guns would rip him apart. However, it wasn't before long that the Hounds figured out his location, and started laying into his cover, the steel newsstand, with suppressing fire. As bits of shredded paper fell around and on him, Nick dropped low, looking under the small gap between newsstand and ground. Taking aim at their feet, he caused two to fall, bullets cutting into their feet painfully. As soon as their heads came out of cover, boom. Quickly reloading and taking a deep breath, November considered his options as bullets continued to fly all around him. None of them currently looked good, but the opportunity to make a move would come. He just needed to be patient. [/center]