Atrophy
Punished GN
AtomicEmperor
Byrd Man
NoriWasHere
xxjessicaxx
Bartimaeus
Fetzen
Oakdell Harbour, White Coast_Quentin's body had decided before he'd even had a chance to speak a word to his team, the mere mention of ZODIAC was enough to drive him into motion. He felt a tinge in his gut from where the scarring had remained after the last encounter with the organisation's so-called 'Sovereign' - or whatever other name that asshole chose to go by. Three years, it had been three years since he'd last seen the masked bastard, but there was a part of him which remembered things with a surprising level of clarity.
Gesturing with a single, free hand, he rallied his team into motion.
First, however, their captured, now semi-conscious berserker was a potential problem to address, so Quentin opted to take no chances here, "Brannagh, Marshall - secure our original target and make sure there's no interference run on this side. Crown, Parker - you're both with me." Crown was a pyrokinetic - it was only logical that he was brought along as heavy artillery, whilst Parker and Brannagh were both experienced agents of similar measure, but one had to hang back here - partially because it was better to have two pairs of eyes than one and partially because he wasn't entirely sure how their MISW counterpart would handle himself in a situation such as this. Sure, they'd dealt with terrorists in their own country, but Quentin wasn't one to measure the man's worth by how he'd heard of the agency's reputation for indiscriminately holding a tight leash around any metahumans that came under their jurisdiction, particularly when they hadn't faced the likes of the Changelings or the IU. This was the safest, best bet as he'd seen it.
Frank wasn't one to argue, either - he'd even said beforehand that he'd fall in line with whatever Taylor pitched, though he couldn't help but pick up a slight tinge of... something as the veteran RAVEN briefly pulled back to their armoured truck to rearm. No matter - at least it wasn't his arse being shovelled into the fire.
"Counterpoint here, we're pushing towards the B Dock."
Why in the hell did everything go wrong for Meifeng?
Why couldn't there be one day where a mission goes as planned? Just one. Now, all of Maximilian's and her fears had been realized; ZODIAC was on their ass. For what reason? Maybe they want the Devil's arm for their bullshit. Didn't matter. Meifeng was pinned down with Francis, and the rest of her team. She needed a quick plan to get out of here, and kill as many of these bastards as she could before ZODIAC could pull out of the engagement. Her team quickly took cover behind walls, vehicles, and other shipping crates, and returned fire. But every shot they took was easy enough to dodge as ZODIAC had the high ground.
Now she wished they had the ability to use explosives in this operation, but she had a better idea;
"Move! Get out of their line of fire!" Meifeng said as she lead her team out of there. Francis took point by activating his psychic shell and tanking the bullets that were headed towards them.
"Don't bother following them," Sovereign said, as he walked to the edge of the rooftop. "We have more important matters to attend to."
The soldiers nodded as Sovereign hopped off the rooftop without a fear in the world. When he landed, the ground underneath his feet cracked, but Sovereign was not even the slightest bit annoyed. He pressed his earpiece, and asked,
"Phantasm, where is the arm?"
"It's on the shipping boat in docks C."
"Hah... we aren't that far off then?" Sovereign said.
As Quentin had led the way towards his colleagues, reports of contacts and contact movement came in frequently enough over the radio to give him a rough guess of where some of the ZODIAC paramilitaries had positioned themselves, giving him some leeway to manoeuvre his divided team down a route which would ideally allow them to catch the bastards out without getting cut down, yet even such such information would only prove to be limited in utility - as the veteran RAVEN quickly realised when, just out of the corner of his eye, a dark figure scrambled across the rooftop of one of the adjacent buildings.
"Contact!"
He saw Crown shift her weight behind the corner of a building, whilst Parker hastily dove behind a low concrete barrier. Quentin himself was forced to squeeze into the rather spacious doorway of a building, narrowly avoiding getting caught up in the middle of a narrow shooting gallery - though now he was blind to what they were dealing with. Even with the helmet and body armour, he wasn't particularly interested in exposing himself to get a view. Then, it occurred to the veteran RAVEN that perhaps, just as before, these paramilitaries were equipped with and were using IR goggles - the kind which were susceptible to being temporarily blinded by powerful heat signatures. Not to mention, the angle the contact was probably at would work in his favour.
It was a gamble, but...
"Crown, put a fireball high on that wall, ten-meters ahead of my position!"
"Copy." The pyrokinetic affirmed, before wordlessly following through on that last order, projecting a missile of flame towards the aforementioned wall, causing it to burst in contact in a haze of smoke and ash, obscuring any line of sight one would have had.
Once he'd heard that 'pop', Quentin hunkered as low as he could and peered out from behind the doorway, where in the few spare seconds he'd had identify where the would-be shooter was situated, he managed to briefly acquire vision of at least one figure positioned in a prone state on top of one of the larger industrial buildings at the docks, before instinct compelled him to place his weight back behind cover, just about a second before a nearby weapon crackled with gunfire and three succesive rounds punched through the brick-corner and scattered tiny pieces of shattered brick and cement at his feet.
There was definitely no space for movement now. In sighting their opponent Quentin had still exposed his own position, to the extent that any further movement would betray him. There was only one thing for it, be decided, hailing Crown again over the radio.
"Shooter's at my eleven, rooftop, about fifty metres- can you get a fireball that far?"
"Copy, it'll reach," She hastily answered.
"Alright, on my mark - fire!"
Once again, the pyrokinetic formed a flaming missile in a free palm until her entire forearm was wreathed in flame, then, after angling the trajectory of the missile to reach the position which Quentin had called, she propelled it outwards once more. It soared across the small dock like a phoenix for just a few seconds, before bursting into a consuming cloud of ash, smoke and flames as it slammed into the rooftop.
It was close enough to the shooter that the initial wave knocked them off their feet, then the flames quickly took a hold and the figure was seen staggering backwards and tumbling off what could only have been other side of the rooftop.
Almost immediately after, however, came another voice. "Counterpoint!" Meifeng almost shouted into the comms. "Sovereign is heading straight for the arm, and we barely have enough manpower to hold them off!"
"What direction?"
"Docks C, by the waterfront."
Shit, Quentin thought, before speaking up again, "Copy, we're pulling back that way."
Sovereign had personally led a war squad straight to Docks C. He quickly came across the great shipping vessel that held the arm within it, and he smiled underneath that helmet. Members of the Russian mafia took point at the edges of the vessel and opened fire, yet their poor discipline and desperation showed. Whilst the ZODIAC paramilitaries simply took up cover and began taking measured potshots at their assailants, Sovereign merely tanked the rounds off his ballistic armour, levelled his M60E4, then opened fire. Even with the high ground,the Russians were easily suppressed, rendering it difficult for them to even stick their heads out, let alone return fire. That was when Sovereign personally charged up the ramp, and turned his head. He opened fire on the Russian goons as the rest of ZODIAC followed up behind him (or found another way on top of the ship). A hail of fire eviscerated most of the remaining Russians on the boat.
He pointed towards one end of the boat, then turned around and pointed down the other. "Find me that arm. Go!"
Quentin's team had quickly regrouped just behind the waterfront, from where the veteran RAVEN quickly moved to intercept ZODIAC before they could acquire their intended prize. Taking up a position with a broad view of the cargo vessel, he withdrew from cover and took aim at one of the few paramilitary soldiers keeping watch on deck and opened fire, hoping to provide enough of a distraction for Crown - and just as he'd hoped, they quickly took cover and returned fire, playing into RAVEN's hands.
"Fireball on those positions!" He barked, as rounds buzzed past him.
And at that, a faint glow grew forth from another corner of the dock, before arcing beside and over the waterfront and into one of the shooters, bursting in yet another glowing cloud of ash and cinders and sending the poor bastard's body tumbling off the side of the deck - and that was just the first - Crown quickly brought up a barrage of smouldering missiles which had much the same effect on the other two visible on deck, giving Quentin and the other two, Parker and Marshall, a clear path aboard, whilst keeping a look out for any other contacts which might've emerged into her view.
Having reverted to his 870, Quentin took point and led the four man team up the gangplank and onto the surface deck of the vessel, passing half a dozen bodies which could've only belonged to the Russians (or, to be more specific, the unlucky bastards dumb enough to have ended up under their payroll) along with the smouldering corpse of one of the ZODIAC shooters that had been up on deck.
As they approached one the entrance hatches, the sharp crackles of gunfire in an enclosed compartment resonated outwards, all but indicating to the RAVENs where Sovereign had led his own unit - and where they still were. Pushing in, they could only hope that the bastard was still searching for the arm and that they'd be able to hold him down until further reinforcements arrived. Quentin had no illusions about that, at least.
Frank, on the other hand, kept his head focused - if anything he'd read about the assassin was half-accurate, they were without a doubt facing dangerous odds. Just a few years back this 'Sovereign' had murdered an MP back in his home country. On the orders of the same bastards who had been pulling the government and MISW's strings. By extension, he had rendered them all an accomplice to their crimes, unwitting or no. No. Frank cleared his head of such thoughts and focused as best he could on the task at hand. They would need everything they had for this one.
Slowly, the team inserted further into the bowels of the vessel, descending down a flight of steps into its dimly lit confines.
Despite their best efforts, Sovereign and ZODIAC were far ahead of RAVEN. They had the boat completely covered, and he was slowly descending on the arm....
However, the Russian mobsters weren't going down without a fight. In a dimly lit room, the "leaders" of the Mafia assembled. With the arm placed inside a specialized cryogenic cooler. One man, was bald-headed, and was covered in tattoos. Extremely muscular.
"Who would have thought we'd have such a showing for us," The man said in Russian, grinning at the destruction that took place overhead. Before he was smacked by his older partner.
"Don't be stupid," His partner said, "Wurdulac wants this arm. We're going to give it to them."
"I don't see that being an option," He answered, as he peered out the window. "Perhaps we should leave the arm here, and let those bastards fight it out..."
"We still have plenty of options, Anatoly," The man said, as he turned his head towards a woman with a shaved head, and lots of tattoos. He threw a thumb at her. "This is Alina..."
"And she can do what to help our predicta-" Anatoly tried to say, but Alina hopped up, and got in his face.
"Well, dumbass, how do you think we got the arm in the first place?" Alina said, as she clutched her hands together. She seemingly created a ball of electrostatic that grew larger and larger. She raised the orb over her head as the other men in the room stepped back. "After I do my thing, you either run, or get left behind. Your choice."
That was when the orb exploded, and effectively sent out an electromagnetic pulse that shut off all electronics on the boat. From the boat's electronics, all the way to ZODIAC's hardware. It was total darkness, as the Russians got what they wanted.
"... Let's move." Anatoly said.
The ZODIAC army were pushing through the bowels of the ship... when the pulse hit them. Sovereign came to a stop, surprised that all the tech in his helmet was dead. He reached down to his wrist, and pressed some buttons... only for nothing to pop up. The ZODIAC soldiers were bathed in complete darkness, with not even access to night vision (or flashlights). Underneath that helmet, Sovereign was laughing. He was having a riot.
"Ahhhhh... they are clever, aren't they?" Sovereign said, before he slung his machine gun over his shoulder. "No matter, stay close to me, and point out any targets."
The high pitched squeal which erupted across the comms was enough to make Quentin wince, causing the veteran RAVEN to tune off for a moment as the lighting across the ship died. EMP? He thought, recognising the hallmarks from a similar situation that occurred several years before. All other voices on the comms had fallen silent, but he wanted to be sure.
"This is Counterpoint, do you read, Crown?"
No answer came.
Most of RAVEN's electronic equipment had been retroactively hardened to military specs to avoid a repeat of the massacre three years back, where their equipment had been fried by an overloaded metahuman's EMP blast, but that didn't mean their equipment was entirely infallible, especially judging by the fact that their mounted torches were dead.
At the least, it would possibly have taken more than a few moments for the comms equipment to tune back in, time which they didn't have. Instead, the veteran RAVEN pressed onwards, into the bowels of the vessel, well aware of the viper's nest that they were entering.
Soon enough, they heard footsteps - albeit very faint. In the darkness below deck, it was hard to make anything out - though that uncertainty quickly changed.
A near-deafening crackle resonated through the narrow corridors below deck, briefly opened with a series of dim flashes from the other side of the corridor. Rounds buzzed past, narrowly missing the RAVENs.
Quentin answered by firing off a slug at the source of the flash.
"It was only a matter of time..." Sovereign groaned to himself, as he came in contact with RAVEN. He pulled out his machine gun, and pushed aside the other members of ZODIAC, before he opened fire on the hallway. Holding it with one hand, he raised his other hand, and gestured for ZODIAC to go down the other halls while Sovereign took full attention of RAVEN. I wonder if he's here. He thought to himself, as he reached down to his belt, and pulled out a grenade, and tossed it at them. Either way, they are none of my concern. He thought again, as he turned around.
"Grenade!"
It was nigh impossible to hear over the continuous clatter of gunfire, but it was one of Quentin's team who sounded the alarm, near enough diving out from cover in order to yank him back to safety with them. A brief flash and a shockwave which rippled through the narrow hall with a deafening resonance quickly followed, shrapnel scattering across and skirting one of the RAVENs across the leg, throwing them off balance and into the line of fire. Two rounds slammed into Parker's body armour whilst a third punched through his arm, eliciting an agonised yelp from the agent, though thanks to Marshall's intervention he was pulled out of the line of fire before any further damage could be done, leaving Quentin and Brannagh to return fire. As the firefight raged on, Sovereign continued alone. After all, the assassin had an idea of where the Russians with the arm would scurry off to. He eventually went above deck... towards the life boats.
Still wreathed in darkness, Quentin thought to pop a flare and tossed it down the corridor, illuminating the ZODIACs huddling at each side and near enough blinding them for a precious few moments as their sight was overwhelmed by the red hue. Quickly, one of them went down under pressure from the remaining RAVEN's combined focus, then another, just as a familiar voice crackled into their comms pieces, over the sound of gunfire,"..tacts, top deck!" Crown's signal had just about reached through to the confines of the ship below deck, before her voice came in again again, this time with a greater sense of urgency, "Sovereign in sight!" Him, Quentin had been affirmed, his line of thought interrupted by a final rippling of gunfire hailed the neutralisation of the last ZODIAC, who's narrow silhouette rippled against the bulkhead.
"Fireball on contact, keep him suppressed!" The veteran RAVEN near enough barked back, as soon as he knew his voice was being transmitted back to her, already pushing more slugs into the magazine tube of his Remington. Whilst Marshall had taken up watch, Branagh was already in the process of applying a tourniquet to Parker's wounded arm. "I'm heading topside to cover Crown," he began, "Keep Parker and yourselves covered, watch for any others."
With one man injured, another preoccupied and the third still remaining as an unknown in the face of pressure, Quentin had decided that he may as well have been forced to head topside without them. He knew what kind of danger Crown was heaped in and he sure as hell wasn't about to leave one his team to face it alone, not against the assassin.
Sovereign kept marching forward, his heavy footsteps being an announcement when he stormed around the corner, and saw the Russians trying to hoist down the lifeboats. They stopped out of shock, but Sovereign charged forward. They didn't waste time in hosing him down with bullets, but they bounced off him. He grabbed onto the nearest mobster by the neck, and hoisted him above his head, earning a series of profanities spluttered at him in his native tongue... which then turned into actual screams as the assassin threw him overboard, then charged forward.
"Give me the arm." Sovereign ordered, as he continued.
Only then did a smoking missile slam into the former assassin from the rear, engulfing him in a blinding shroud of smoke and embers, yet the only reaction that Abel demonstrated was irritation... he whipped around halfway, and quickly pulled out his revolver, then fired off a shot at the RAVEN. If it wasn't for that body armour of hers, she would have been almost undoubtedly killed, yet the sheer force of the impact was enough to knock her to the ground and leave behind some internal injuries.
Instead of finishing her off, Sovereign merely brushed the flames off before they caused any damage to his weaponry - or caused his grenades to explode. After the flames were gone, he turned his attention back to the few Russians, who were intent on capitalizing on Crown's distraction. Sovereign quickly turned his revolver on their liferaft, and shot it, tearing the inflatable to pieces. He marched forward.
"The. Arm." Sovereign ordered in their native tongue. "I am not[/i] asking again.[/i]"
"Fuck this, you're on your own!" One of them near enough bolted as he grew closer, leaving the others behind.
Then, unexpectedly, came a clatter from behind as a canister rolled across the deck, towards Sovereign's feet. Containment foam.
The canister exploded before Sovereign could even react, and bonded his feet with a tough chemical that not even he could break easily. He narrowed his eyes, as he turned around... And was met with the sight of a RAVEN hastily raising a Remington 870 towards him, then firing off a slug at his upper mid-section. The bullet barely dented his armor, but he narrowed his eyes at him.
"Quentin Taylor..." Sovereign said... subtly reaching for his revolver. "Why did I get the feeling I'd end up running into you?" He asked.
"Hands behind your head!" The veteran RAVEN barked, racking the pump action, "Next shot won't be a warning."
"If you plan on killing me with that..." Sovereign blankly said. "... You're going to need more bullets."
Undaunted, he quickly pulled out his oversized revolver, and aimed directly for Quentin, before firing. Even holding him at gunpoint had proven pointless, as past encounters had shown, yet it couldn't have been said that he hadn't tried - the moment he'd realised the former assassin was reaching for a weapon, Quent had near enough bolted for the nearest form of cover, an alcove just ahead of the ship's bridge, yet those superhuman reflexes still worked in Sovereign's favour. Like a kick to the ribs, Quentin felt the .500 bullet smashing into his armour, causing him to briefly crumple against the wall as the shock of the impact rippled across his torso. Bruises, at least. Quentin clenched his teeth and fought the pain along with any temptation to stop and rest.
Instead, he reached for his comms piece and sent out a hail across the channels. "Counterpoint here... Sovereign's on the top deck, foamed him but he's still armed, going to engage."
Sovereign focused instead on trying to break free from the containment foam. He knelt down, and punched the foam hard as he could, but even with his strength, that wasn't enough to crack it.
Yet again, Quentin emerged from cover, this time a little more sluggish but still in motion - but this time the veteran RAVEN didn't even offer a warning and instead opened fire, then hastily racked the pump action and fired again, aiming upwards this time with the intent of landing an impact on the bastard's visor. The slugs slammed right into his helmet, and Sovereign groaned. It seemed there was no way to avoid this confrontation.
Aware of the M60E4 still slung over his shoulder, Sovereign quickly hoisted it, ready to fire and opened fire on Quentin's position, forcing the veteran RAVEN back behind cover, still firing in short, sharp bursts with what remained of the belt... which ran through about as quickly as one would've expected, just as one had hoped in Quentin's case - and so he launched yet again from cover, ready to unleash another barrage of slugs upon the former assassin, only to be met with the weight of the emptied, still-smoking GPMG smashing into him. Sovereign went back to hammering away at the containment foam. Eventually, he made cracks. The man grinned from underneath the armor, and then slammed it one more time as the foam shattered.
Twisting, he clenched his fists after a glance. The Russians were long-gone. Smart, but at the same time so irritating. He turned back towards Quentin, and spoke.
"... I am not your enemy, Mr. Taylor," Sovereign stated. "I am merely an agent stopping something worse that is coming over the horizon." He continued, retrieving a smoke grenade. "... You'll see some day."
He primed the grenade, then dropped it at his feet and in moments the deck had been blanketed in a blinding sheet of smoke. Quentin scrabbled for his 870 yet again, but by the time he'd managed to get a rough picture again, Sovereign was gone. Along with the arm.
"Shit..." Quentin spat, with a half-hearted grunt. Delivering the news to Maximilian was going to be a shitshow, but they had to know, "Counterpoint here, the package is gone, Sovereign escaped without it."
