[b]Field Commander Daniel Graves Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility Utah Loading Bay[/b] '[i]Well, at least it's not a rift.'[/i] That was the first thought to come to Graves mind as he took in the tableau of the loading bay. On full view as he swapped a magazine into his rifle. The bodies of the cobbled together tech-zombies intermingled with what had been a fireteam worth of Kilo shooters. But the massive Goliath like figure was still standing. Blood dotted it's jumpsuit intermittently and yet it showed no signs of pain as it focused on Kilo team member. [quote=@JFK] He dropped his slung PDW and swiftly gripped the revolver with both hands. He lined up the crude sights with the beast's head and fired a hefty .44 magnum round, praying it would crack it's skull and bury itself in the right places to make it go limp. [/quote] The massive report and muzzle flash of a .44 came from somewhere on the other side of the bay. The goliath staggered, a chunk of visible skull and gore shooting away from a corner of it's head. The Kilo shooter audibly inhaling as the pressure lessened. The Tech-Zombies were down. GOliath was going down; Graves was about to lower his rifle when he noticed it. The goliath had staggered but caught itself on unsteady feet. It looked confused but it wobbled as it gazed around the bay with that electric blue gaze. It still didn't fall; despite the visible brain matter Daniel could see even from this distance. It eventually reoriented in the direction of the magnum shot and began to wobble unsteadily there. The gait resembled the tech-zombies; nothing like its earlier grace. A distinction Graves noted as he sent the bolt home on a fresh magazine and reshouldered the rifle. "Pour it on!!!!" Graves, Lima, and the still functional members of Kilo fired from their various positions within the room. A mad twenty seconds of converging fire that hit the goliath from seemingly every angle. The giant falling to its knees somewhere in the fusillade as it flesh and bone were pummeled by the gunfire. It reached a futile hand towards Stoke's position; as if it could still reach him. Then, a bullet hit whatever the goliath needed to keep moving past the headshot and the fusillade. The collapse was almost anti-climatic for the size of the target and the ammunition they had expended. "Clear." Graves sent as he took in the bay now. Six dead science experiments. Three dead Acheron. One wounded to an unknown degree. A sigh. Not the worst start to an op but definitely not the best. "Kilo, get the casualties to the LZ and set up defenses in the lobby. Stokes! You in here?" Graces saw the Alton wearing helmet of Stokes appear; the revolver he had used still in his hands. "Nice shot; I'll make sure you get a sticker. Anyways.." He motioned at a Lima fireteam. "Take these boys from Lima and go pick up the gals from Concealment. Let them do their jobs; just make sure they get where they need to go. Clear? Rest of Lima, police up this bay and get back to Juliet. Let's move people!" --------- [b]Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility Utah Security Room[/b] The security room was a mad house. Blood, overturned furniture and bullet holes dotted the walls. Empty arms lockers and scattered magazine holders pointed to a desperate race to arm before the battle had reached the room. But for all the chaos outside the room and the signs of battle within; the room held no threats. An examination of the security system however revealed an unsettling development. The systems had all been slaved to a terminal somewhere in the basement. An oddly named "Sector Null Zero" listed as the new security access point. The security footage erased too by whatever process had moved its functions deeper into the facility. The only upside was that whatever had overridden the system had also wiped the door control systems. Had they been intact; the team would have had to hunt down colored keycards to access sectors of the facility. The pounding of footsteps resounding from the hall; heavy footfalls. But the footfall's were preceded by a commanding, female voice. "Friendlies!!!!! Friendlies!!!!!" There were four of them rushing down the hall. Cradling Mossberg shotguns with death grips and casting fearful glances around. All four of them were dressed in dark uniforms; the logo of Obsidian Dynamics the sole bit of color on their otherwise stark uniforms. Three were the typical large shouldered, skull cracker look of private corporate security. Too much time in the gym and not enough time at the firing range. The fourth had sharp angular features and fair hair that had been styled before the events of the day had left it coated in grime and matted to her skull. A name tap and security badge proclaimed her as one of their VIP's; Head of Security Ava Wiberg. The four came to a jumbling stop near the security room. Not seeming to mind the guns pointed at them; a testament to whatever had occurred that they preferred the company of armed strangers. Head of Security Wiberg, looked on the trio of Acheron shooters with a mixture of relief and disbelief. "Are you three the only extraction team?" Her gaze taking in the dead tech-zombies and Fabio taking a selfie with said tech zombies. Her grip readjusting on her shotgun. "You are the extraction team right?" An edge to her words. [@Dyelli Beybi], [@Theyra], [@PrinceAlexus] -------- As the next tech-zombie fell; the reporter scrambled to her feet. A spray of gunk from a headshot splattering her formerly white blouse. She took a panicked look around the office before darting through the newly battered open door. Taking to danger of the building over the shattered safety that had been her previous hiding place. The reporter disappearing from sight somewhere in the fourth floor. Away from the windows and sightlines of the sniper teams. [@Flarbinia] ------- Field Contract Advisor Samantha Norr Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility Utah [quote=@Tesserach]"This will lead us to them." Soraya looked up at both Imogen and Samantha, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I do not know who else would be calling from inside the facility. I think we go in. Offer help: we can think of a story as we search, yes?"[/quote] Sam took in the display. A road map that would lead at least to [i]one[/i] of the reporters. The other somewhere on the fourth floor. The gunfire from the facility having died down at least. Not the abrupt way of a team being wiped out; but the petering fire of a one-sided firefight dying out. "Let's start with the location we know exactly." Sam examined the dot, somewhere on the far side of the building from the lobby. Though she couldn't figure out which floor it was on. The van unlocked with a beep. A standard news van; monitors, spare equipment, empty cases and personal effects scattered among its shelfs and nooks. Beside a moderately fashionable purse was a smart phone, silent now, but obviously the one that had been ringing. Sam picked the phone up with cursory. The lock screen revealing a flurry of missed calls and texts; the most recent from a contact labeled "Intern: Whitney". The rest appeared acquaintances of some kind that were worried for her. "Looks like we're going to need a cover story for this." She showed the phone towards Imogen. Passing the device over as she stepped out. Boots making a clacking as she stepped out and pulled her weapon around for a reassuring heft of its weight. She stepped beside Soraya. "I guess its time to head in now." She hoped the words sounded casual. Not at all displaying the nervousness she felt. Nor did she pay attention to the slight phantom ache of the scar on her collarbone. [@Tesserach], [@PatientBean]