And They All Fall Down
Roleplaying Log: And They All Fall Down
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Carmilla and Domino attack a hidden AIM laboratory under a Gotham warehouse in search of Antonio Romano. Such things never go according to plan.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: May 11, 2019
IC Location: Gotham, Warehouse District
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 14 May 2019 00:42
Rating & Warnings: R
NPC & GM Credits: Carmilla
Associated Plots

* OOC Time: Mon May 13 11:39:04 2019 *

* * *

The cold, brisk rains of the preceding nights washed away all the filth and grime of their previous endeavours, leaving a sense of chilling, austere refreshment on the morning air. By evening, however, this gave way to fog, and then to a squalid mugginess, the heat rising off paved roads and discarded refuse choking the air until it almost seems too thick to breathe. It's proof that your sins can't really wash away, just run down a drain into a gutter and turn the sewage a rusty brownish red.

It's in conditions like these that Domino will find herself overlooking a warehouse built out of cinder blocks and corrugated steel, watching as a 20 ton freight trailer is backed in through the bay doors. According to Carmilla, they have to be moving durable equipment of some kind. According to Carmilla, most of what they send in never comes out. And according to her, it makes no sense for a shipping and receiving center, which is what this place purports to be. A lot of things revolve around what Carmilla has said lately. It might be enough to wear on the nerves.

The Scorpion is doing her part, so far as Domino is aware. She'd met up long enough to say that she'd be going in through the east and flushing their target toward the street through the southeast corner. Domino could get on the radio if she needed backup but otherwise she is in this alone. Her new 'friend' has a lot of business to take care of inside. If she emerges too soon, they'll both be swarmed by guards quickly enough. She seems to think she can take care of whatever's inside.

Regardless, Domino can see five of them now. Two are talking by the west side, near the bay doors. The man driving the truck appears to be armed. Two more near the southern side of the building, by the electric fence. It begins when the power at the warehouse flickers, and the lights go out. Immediately, flashlights illuminate the lot, casting silhouettes of the heavily armed men patroling it.

Power will be back on any moment now. It's not hard to guess that there'll be a generator. And more guards.

* * *

It's always kind of irritating when a person whom you REALLY WANTED DEAD turns out to be more useful alive than not. And always so ..damn..-right- about things. But whatever. Some differences can be put aside when there's mutual gain to be had, and tonight the albino has gone to some lengths to assure her end of the mission is both successful and enjoyable.

Very..very..enjoyable. For her, anyway. And really, that's what matters.

She's got the compound and surrounding territory scoped out in a very literal sense. The .300 carbine had served her well the other night but it was time to ramp things up a notch or four. As it turns out you can get an AR-15 platform chambered in a different sort of .300, this one to the tune of a Winchester Magnum.

The distance she's working from is properly fitting for such a meaty caliber, perched on a grungy and muddy hillside with all of her tricks for tonight's job laid out and ready. This is still very much Carmilla's job. Neena's simply the appointed guardian angel.

And those two guards over by the fence are the first on her list.

As soon as the power goes out there's a distant *snap* as the first bullet is unleashed, slicing out through the leaves, crossing over a graveyard, blitzing over the fence and across a parking lot, clearing a pond, nearly trimming the elbow off of a statue, glinting like a comet beneath a street light, then ending in a gory spray of red stained organic matter as it punches clean through both of their heads.

The two get shoved away from the fence as they topple to the ground, one of them having just retrieved his radio before going down. Now the weight of the two bodies keeps his thumb pinned to the transmit button, blocking the enemy's distance communications.

"Damn I love my work," Domino mutters to herself while drawing a bead on the next target. The southern side of the compound officially belongs to her now.

On their own comms, she tells Carmilla "Take your time, Princess. I can do this all night."

* * *

"Heads up, there's a few more headed your way."

four more men exit through the bay doors, carrying matte black bullpup rifles with custom stocks. SA80s, if Domino stops long enough to get a good look at their weapons. Quickly, however, they are accompanied by bright halogen lamps sweeping the darkness like spotlights and twitchy trigger fingers. One brave first responder, a young man with dark hair, dark skin, and vivid gray eyes, dashes over toward the fallen guards and drops to a knee to inspect their injuries. They are, of course, very dead but it was probably impossible to tell from the door way. He stops long enough to say something into his radio.

Which is when someone squeezes off a burst in Neena's general direction. The sound is explosive, echoing through the night like someone had started a jackhammer. The rounds go whizzing by into the distance. She's definitely within shooting range but clearly, no one's seen her. Yet.

"Target should be exiting shortly. …Watch your eyes." If Domino is using nightvision optics it's going to be very bright out, very quickly. When the power cycles they start with large overhead lights that turn the entire warehouse area from night to day.

Carmilla, meanwhile, is on the warpath. When the first two guards head out to chek out the disturbance on the southern side she steps in through the west side door. There are huge crates and timber piles inside, and she places her back to one of them, listening to the commotion. A hapless guard heads for the west side of the building, but meets Carmilla's left arm, gets tripped to the ground, and then eats enough sedative to put him out for two days before being carefully dragged out of sight.

They have bigger things to worry about outside. Still, from Dom's point of view it is probably very conspicuous that no one emerges coming around the building on the southwest.

* * *

"Wait..are those seriously -Enfields?-" Domino says more to herself but still transmitting to Carmilla's set. "I wonder if Britain finally came to their senses and started throwing those scrap heaps out. The curse of the lowest bidder strikes again." Eh, if opportunity comes around she might snag one to hang on a wall somewhere.

Of course, she's busy checking out their gear and lining them up while they're spreading shots out in her general vicinity. "Ooo hey, someone's gunning for a promotion!"

The magnum slams into her shoulder a second time as the guy that was foolish enough to fire blindly into the hillside loses his head over it.

There's a fine line between effective power and gratuitous gore and she's deliberately crossed way over the latter. This gig doubles as sending a message to A.I.M. Her initial message comes in the spray of brain matter that pelts the visors and helmets of the guards unfortunate enough to be standing by that last dude.

Then the 'watch your eyes' does indeed have her reaching up to neatly flick a setting on the optics right before the lights come to life like a portable sun. Not only is her previous handiwork laid out for all to see on the southern side but all of those other guards are now caught out in the open.

"Ooo..that wasn't smart."

At this distance she shouldn't have to worry much about a stray shot from a 5.56. Who cares if they know where the sniper is? They barely have the firepower to reach back! Thus, the parking lot becomes a shooting gallery. Guards start getting plowed over or slammed back into containers. One guy gets shot through a blind barrier, the magnum blasting a fist-sized chunk out of the back before turning the guy's core inside out.

The rifle's reloaded after ten then the albino's scanning for their target. He'll be the one looking more out of place than the others and panicking up a storm as he tries to reach the nearest vehicle.

"Iii spy a wabbit," she almost cheerily comms back while trailing the guy's head with the crosshairs. "Thirty seconds to engagement. Have fun down there."

* * *

The poor bastards weren't prepared for Domino, clearly. Someone inside the warehouse is shouting, "Shut those spotlights off, you idiot!" in a Cornish accent while other people are scurrying in all directions. Carmilla is already moving away from the spotlight controls, the levers thrown all the way up.

The Scorpion's back is against another large crate, and she watches as two men approach the controls. They walk right past her. The man on the right turns in her direction, rifle in hand… A leg sweep to drop the nearest of them as he gauntlet extends over her left arm. She lifts her hand and tenses as she lashes out with a vicious strike. It doesn't actually connect, but the two men start to cough and clutch at their throats. She steps over them as they turn red and sink to the floor.

The hardest part is going to be finding a way into the actual base. Dom's job, on the other hand…

They might not have the range to compete with an AR-15 loaded .300 mag, but they'll still try. Domino is within potentially lethal range if they can ever get that lucky. Sighting her in from a lit position in the dark at a poor vantage is probably impossible. THose shots are coming a little closer, but by this point all of the men have scattered for cover. Except for First Responder dude. That young man deserves a promotion, since he's still in the line of fire, looking after his compatriots, and notably having set his rifle aside entirely in favour of doing what he can. Looks like one of Dom's targets "lived". He'll need a new eye, probably.

A large group of men are exiting through the southeast side of the building as discretely as they can manage. Six of them head toward the parking lots covering a seventh who has his head firmly down, while several others… Disappear into the shadows. These guys are armed with what looks to be heavily modified SCAR-Hs, though it's hard to tell what the configuration is. But given the custom body armour and their facility in simply vanishing into the warehouse district before shots can be taken these are probably the "real" guards. They even remembered to wear helmets.

"Target is moving. We've got 'em. Got a visual?"

* * *

The first responder guy's lucking out. So long as he's dealing with the carnage and not worrying about joining the fight then Domino leaves him be. There are plenty of targets left which are somewhat more pressing.

It's dangerous, sure, but the albino is in her happy place. She's humming a little tune to herself after having dropped quite a few of their first wave. Now she's heading towards a grungy old Jeep Grand Cherokee she picked up for a twelve pack of beer, climbing up onto the roof where nested between the luggage rails is a properly tricked out Barrett M107A1.

She is so -very- in her happy place tonight.

Pale fingers make a few slight adjustments to the optics as Carmilla's question comes through. "That's a copy. Looks like he brought the top shelf support, point to him. If you find one of those SCARs on your way out you might wanna grab it, decent piece of hardware."

Their body armor should be no sweat, she's got high explosive armor piercing rounds on tap. Their rifles, however… They could easily cross the distance and put down some hurt on her. It looks like they -might actually know how to use them- too.

Unlike Random Mook #37 who managed to get a lucky shot off, digging a furrow into the mud where she had been lying a moment earlier. Too little, too late.

Now her eye is on the prize. Armed escord, escape vehicle, limited options in getting out of Dodge. She doesn't overplay her hand just yet. No one else needs to know she's got the wrath of god at her fingertips. Not even Carmilla! It's always a good idea to keep an ace in the hole.

"You realize that the local vigilantes are gonna be pretty upset about this," she casually radios back to Carm. "I mean, we're new here so we get a tad more leeway before they get the four-one-one on who's new. Tonight better count, we may not have a second shot without incurring some visiting team penalties."

Meanwhile she's still calmly following the escape vehicle, letting them get both further away from the facility and closer to Impending Doom. It's gonna get real messy real soon.

* * *

"Think we'll be okay for now. Gotham is basically a warzone," Carmilla will reply. "I'm not planning on staying in town and using the same M.O. twice. Are you?"

Carmilla's voice is fraught with tension. There's a soft grunt caught over the mic before it goes dead, as if she'd hit something… Heavy. Then again, the Scorpion is- as Domino might remind herself- five foot two and kind of a lightweight to boot. So it might just be one of the guards.

"I've run into a couple of the guys you're talking about down here. Their armour is some kind of special AIM bullshit. Careful with that." There's a shout on the far end, as of a grown man in abject panic. Then it cuts out again.

For Domino's part, she gets a good look at the escape vehicle indeed. It's a customized SUV, dark blue, nothing too unusual except that a close look shows it's heavily armoured. Ballistic windows, armoured panels, even the tires have some kind of nonsense going on with them. It's AIM, so maybe they self-reinflate or something. Never forget this is literally the mad scientists' New World Order.

All in all, the progression is pretty orderly. It's impossible to get a good look at whoever they're guarding right now; it seems the bodyguards have a good handle on what they're doing.

The guys who split off from the main group are nowhere to be found. In the shadows of the other warehouses and the mild fog it would be impossible to locate them from above. Which is probably the point.

* * *

"Oh, that's a real shame," Dom deadpans about Gotham being a warzone. "Someone should do something about that." The errant shrug will go unnoticed to Carmilla but it's there all the same. "I don't know. Maybe. I mean you can't beat the classics."

At the grunt and the resulting silence her brows lift slightly, left hand reaching to her headset for a second before Scorpion comes back through. "Sounds like you're making some friends."

Sitrep: One armored SUV full of organized and equipped soldiers. One priority target who needs to stay alive nested somewhere in the middle. One shadow ops team who has disappeared some time ago, probably hunting down the albino sniper. She has a chance to stop the SUV but as soon as she brings the noise the other team will know exactly where she is. She's gonna have to get fancy on this one.

"Might have to change up the plans a little, Princess. Some of these boys are playin' it smart, I'll give 'em another twenty seconds before they've fully clocked me. Gonna have to do this quick and dirty, grab the goon and gun it. We can catch up later."

Off-comms this is followed with a grumbled "Great, I get to be on extended babysitter duty."

Welp. There'll be time to lament the circumstances later. Off goes the safety as the SUV comes up into view along a hill. It's almost an arrow straight shot to where she's nested. Dial it in onto the driver aaand—

*BDOOM!*

Nearby branches get flung aside from the concussion out of the muzzle brake as down the road a golfball sized hole suddenly appears right in front of the SUV's driver. An instantaneous flash of light from within the cabin comes from the miniaturized explosive going off, sending chunks of high tech armor around the cabin like a makeshift claymore mine.

Then the passenger gets one.

Then the engine gets two.

Brass rings out against the Jeep's roof like palm-sized gongs as the albino shreds the incoming vehicle to the point of severing one of the front wheels, transforming their getaway vehicle into a three ton tumbleweed.

Then she's rolling off of the roof and behind the Jeep, grunting at the awkward weight of the M107. No way she's leaving it behind if it can be helped! It gets tossed into the back. The .300 WinMag gets pulled from the mud, too. Then she's sprinting for the SUV which is only now coming to a smoking rest.

"Closing in on our bunny now."

* * *

"You *do* have to appreciate an artist's work. Just have to keep one step ahead of the capes, I guess."

There are screams from inside the vehicle, which gets turned into a death trap as shredded composite ceramic and titanium body armour is torn apart and sent flying in all directions by the concussive force of the explosive rounds. It's like using a tank to attack a Tonka Truck toy caravan. Gratuitous destruction raining in all directions. Incredibly, a couple battered, dazed men are piling out of the SUV now, sweeping the area with their rifles and checking their wounds. The fact they aren't all dead or dying is a testament to the quality of their transportation.

Inside, however, the principle is there. A balding man in his middle forties with graying black hair, a square jawline, and a dazed expression. He seems to be bleeding from a head wound. Another of the soldiers appears to be trapped at the moment, struggling with a crumpled door and a broken seat belt. It's chaos, twisted metal, and blood.

The two unexpected survivors spot Domino on her intercept course and bring their weapons to bear. They are pretty battered, however, and the initial shots go far off course. Their ears have to be ringing, if nothing else. Even with a heavily reinforced cabin to ride in.

The driver, of course, had no chance. There's not enough of him left to identify. Carm, meanwhile, has no clue about this as she calls out, "Copy, bunny is in sight. I'm heading underground now. I'll be out of radio contact in 10. … Don't lose that pretty head while I'm gone. Hard to find a decent partner out here."

* * *

Two dazed soldiers and one stuck inside doesn't seem like much of a fight. The shadow crew is still out there, right? Eh, they'll get their turn!

The first shots coming toward Domino are dodged by means of throwing herself into a corkscrew jump, one arm swiping downward as a machine pistol cuts loose with a handful of rounds in his direction. His armor catches most of them. Most.

Then she's on top of the second guy, sending the muzzle of his rifle against the overturned side of the overturned SUV with a raised foot. His shots spark into the armor as her second gun comes up and obliterates the faceplate of his armor with another automatic burst. She'll take his gun now, thank you!

The guy with a stuck seatbelt is next, solving that problem with one well placed bullet.

One of the mangled SUV's back doors creaks open. It's followed by a half-gloved hand darting inside to grab the balding man they're after. "I need a doctor!" she calls out with perhaps a little -too- much malicious glee.

The way that she's got the guy in a black hood and with wrists ziptied behind him proves that she's done this sort of thing plenty of times before. This is all the easy part!

"Bunny's in the bag. Worry about your own head, I've got these goobers."

The tricky part will be getting him back into the Jeep and hit the road running before the other team catches up to them. If they wreck the Jeep then she's going to be in kind of a bad spot. Using the getaway vehicle as a sniper's roost prooobably wasn't the best choice she could have made.

On the upside, now she has some leverage. How valuable is Mister Scientist? Valuable enough to have merited such a strong escort! They'll go to some length to keep from accidentally killing him.

"Eugh, when's the last time you got outside?" she grunts while hauling the hooded man along. "A little cardio wouldn't have killed you."

* * *

The shadow team obviously wasn't expecting Domino to simply charge the SUV, and they got outmaneuvered. It probably isn't going to happen again. The first sign that she's been caught unawares is a bullet that thankfully strikes a jagged piece of SUV and ricochets away from Domino instead of taking off half of her skull. Then the gunfire begins in earnest.

Clearly, the Spec Ops team has a lot of firepower zeroed in. The count was six guys. It's impossible to identify the number of shooters, and the direction of fire seems to be south… Southwest… Southeast… Possibly everywhere. It's dark out there, and with the car smouldering and scattered flashlights Domino has put herself into the position of being just like the guys at the warehouse: night blind under assault from unseen forces.

The principle doesn't respond to the heckling. He's pretty hefty, too. He moves with Domino when she yanks, but if he resisted it might actually be hard to shove him around. Guy is more solid than he looks. But there wasn't any difficulty at all in getting him black bagged and ziptied…

* * *

At the first shot sparking against the overturned vehicle Domino's eyes snap wide and she ducks low, immediately followed by a roll off to the side to use the reinforced wreckage as cover. One warning is all she gets, the following volley drumming out a deadly beat around her as she goes.

Even if their weapons -could- penetrate through the armored plating they wouldn't dare risk hitting the hostage. If they get close enough to try and pull him to safety she'll know it and will be able to ambush them. But until then..?

Sitting. Fucking. Swan.

..Dammit. And they drew first blood. Her hand comes away from a shoulder with fingertips smeared bright red. Now they're gettin' serious.

"You boys are late to the party!" she calls out while plucking a flashbang from her harness. Out comes the pin, the albino giving the top of the arming lever a quick kiss before letting it flick away to start the countdown.

Where does she throw it, though?

How about over -there?-

With her back to the SUV she neatly tosses it up over her shoulder, clearing the wreckage to land somewhere off into the brush. This tactic is only going to work once, hopefully it nets her some positive results!

They'll be spread out, approaching from multiple vectors. As soon as she sticks her head out they'll take their shots. So, Dom drops down onto a shoulder and preps to shoot through the SUV's shattered windows. The strengthened pieces will likely deflect some of the shots but all she needs is for one to get through and find its mark. Gotta keep these guys on their toes before they do the same to her!

* * *

The fire from that side is abruptly halted. Domino will spot a shadow leaning out from beside a warehouse across the way. He'd been moving to take cover against a nondescript pickup truck parked beneath a defunct street lamp. Now he's flailing a little and retreating out of sight. The next burst of fire, however, comes from across the way. They seem to be zeroing in on Domino's position, and strangely willing to fire on their own principle to get the job done.

Then Domino returns fire through that window. The only sign that she hit anything is the line of bullets tearing off across the street wildly, striking a street lamp and tearing chunks out of the paved road. Still, that's definitely one solid hit for the swan. Her enemies, however, have settled into a rhythm, covering eachother's reloading expertly to create a punishing wave of largely unending return fire.

THen the guns go silent. But obviously, that just means they're hoping Domino will try to move away from the wrecked armoured car that is slowly being swiss-cheesed with armor piercing rounds.

For some reason, the principle hasn't done more than flop a little bit and sit there. How bad WAS that head injury? It didn't look like too much.

* * *

Ah shit.

Shit shit shit.

If they're willing to gun down one of their own then Domino's safety net is done for. On top of that..AP rounds. The spark beside her face is proof enough, the wrinkled armored hide of the SUV now home to a couple of brand new marble-sized holes. Her typical bullet resistant black skin wouldn't hold up to a rifle caliber round, let alone the AP variety.

That might prove to be a good thing, though… AP's won't have much deviation or cavitation. If she does get hit they'll punch clean through her. Nothing left to try and dig out later. It's a small blessing but when so out-gunned she'll take what she can get.

Something's feeling off about this. Their 'bunny' hasn't been acting anything like how she would have anticipated. Dom's pinned down out in the middle of nowhere. Oh, and Scorpion is conveniently off comms. Had this been a set-up..?

Options are limited. Dom could stay back here and maybe fake out one of them long enough for an easy kill but then they'd go back to perforating her cover. She's sure as hell not surrendering. Which leaves one choice left.

Neena tosses herself clear over the upside down SUV, out of cover and fully into the big wide open. It's that time during the game where she kicks the table over, resets it with a new set of rules, and lets the ol' X-Gene do its thing.

* * *

That's when the comm cuts back in. Just for a second.Scorpion is apparently frantically trying to reach Domino. There's lots of muffled static over the comm line. She'd said she was going to be underground, so really the fact anything got through is a miracle.

Neena leaves the principle behind, blind and bound, and dives into the midst of the flying armor piercing rounds. The echo of bullets against stone and metal is absolutely deafening, the scream of pavement torn apart and bouncing 7.62mm rounds drowning out almost anything that could be overheard. They chew out a semi circle around Domino's form as she advances, incredibly missing. One man leans out to take a carefully aimed shot through his reflex sight - and then he's swearing, looking utterly confused as the bullet simply fails to fire. And then there's a cough of smoke from the barrel as it explodes in the chamber and he drops his gun clattering to the ground. And that is when Dom will hear it.

. "-'s not Antonio. You've got a decoy-"

That doesn't mean it'll sting less when the principle snaps out of his zip ties and takes a swipe at Neena's retreating back. Forewarned is forearmed, and she was already leaping out into the middle of the fray, so she just barely avoids a blow that leaves a large dent in the still-intact frame of the armoured SUV. One can just imagine what it would have done to a certain swan.

* * *

No plan survives contact with the enemy.

Everything seemed to be going perfectly, which is exactly why being worried would have been the correct course of action. Domino's gone all in, thrown onto the razor's edge of chaos and probability, and the target they were trying to get away with -isn't even the right target.-

Neena's blood runs cold when she hears the distorted words through the comms a heartbeat before the -creature- behind her breaks free and takes a swipe! There isn't any time to think or plan, no chance of stopping to get a read on their locations. If she doesn't stop moving she's dead. Simple as that.

"Noticed!!"

Jumping rolling dodging weaving sprinting leaping corkscrewing cartwheeling and -dumping the fucking mags- on both of her machine pistols. A burst over here, a burst over there, two bursts in that direction, she doesn't bother aiming for a single one of them. Instinct guides her motions.

When the pistols run dry it's back to the SCAR-17 she stole from the one trooper (and wasn't THAT smart fucking planning?!) Sweat sticks ebony hair to the albino's brow while stopping short, boots slipping in the mud and dropping her to a knee as the battle rifle is brought around toward what -had- been her hostage to dump yet another mag.

Probability may favor her. It's certainly running in high gear while she's out doing her armed jackrabbit routine. It still doesn't help so much if something's coming up behind her. Who knows how many of those shadow goons are still in pursuit! They know where Whitey is way better than she knows where they are…

* * *

"Do you hear me? … What's your status, Domino?" Scorpion must have found a way to boost her signal because, some static aside, she's actually coming across loud and clear now. "The fucker's sealed in a bunker under the warehouse."

Meanwhile, the monster formerly known as Antonio Romano bursts free with an almost mechanical level of precise movements. It is after Domino, looming over her as she whirls toward it to fire off a series of rounds. It's hard to get a good look among all the lights. He's huge. How did she not notice how huge he really was? It's within human standards, but still…

The rounds hit the thing and bounce, tearing off flesh and casting sparks as a metallic skeleton underneath synthetic skin is being bared. The creature lunges with ridiculous speed and takes a huge heavy-fisted swipe at Domino…

And misses. There's still part of that black bag clinging to his head, and improbably it's flown up over RomanoBot's eyes to obscure his ability to simply squish the merc into paste. He manages to send one of his own compatriot's flying, hitting a nearby wall with a sickening thud before sliding down bonelessly to the pavement.

Luck on overdrive indeed. It's a momentary setback, however. Just enough for the jackrabbit to put some distance between herself and the android pursuing her. By comparison, the incoming gunfire seems almost charming. It's sporadic, now. No wonder they weren't worried about hitting the high value target when they opened fire.

Once again, the bot throws himself into a furious lunge. As he does he's scooping up a fallen rifle from the ground. …And smashing a Mitsubishi Mirage out of his way like it's made of paper. They (are* pretty light, but this is ridiculous.

* * *

Over the racket of copious amounts of automatic fire, Carmilla will hear "I chased after a creature that wants to rip my face off, I'm being hunted by an elite shadow team, I'm running low on ammo and I'm covered in mud, so my status is 'bananas!'"

And the AP rounds didn't even tickle the thing.

"Scratch that, Machine, -not- creat—OOF!" She can FEEL the ribs being turned into Jell-o within the guy that took the hit beside her, flicked away like he amounted to nothing at all. As much as she'd love to score a free four thousand dollar rifle setup the SCAR is empty and slowing her down, so she throws it at the hulking machine. It's still a weapon, darnit!

Running.

SO MUCH RUNNING.

The albino leaps off of the ground and springboards off of a dead light pole, barely avoiding getting creamed by the Mitsubishi which goes sliding past. She jumps right off of it in passing, getting a speed boost to go sliding beneath a disconnected semi trailer.

There's only one weapon in the area which will likely put a proper dent into the machine. It's a certain fifty caliber loaded with half a mag of HEAP rounds. Back at the Jeep. On the other side of this building. Being cut off by RoboRomano. There may be a bit more Cat and Mouse to try and survive through…

"I feel like you could have better prepped me for this mission!" is barked into the comms while bouncing over the hood of another car. Dom barely has time to reload one of the pistols! By the time one's ready she's firing back over a shoulder without looking, pelting the fuel tank of a Chevy with enough rounds to trigger a spark. It catches the vapor trail then turns the whole car into a gasoline fireball.

At least she can see a little better now…

"This thing is going full Terminator on my albino ass!"

* * *

"They're not supposed to deploy those above ground. He was supposed to be /my/ problem," Carm calls back over the microphone. She's breathless, like she's running somewhere at this moment. "This is AIM. You've gone after them before, right? Anyway!" A breathless pause. Then, "Those things are heavy. Really heavy. Try getting up somewhere high? And I bet they can't turn very fast either."

Running! That thing is ridiculously fast. The rifle hits it in the face and bounces off of its eyes. It actually missteps in response, improbably stumbling into a lamp post and sending it bowling to the street before recovering. That was a one in a billion shot. Getting a good luck, Dom will see that the AP rounds did do some damage that is slightly more than superficial. A team of soldiers with that level of firepower could take one down with coordinated fire, probably. So the Barret would probably do the trick. …ANd it's being left far behind.

One of the operators emerges from the shadows of a building, taking cover by an old chevy. She's aiming at Domino, who is going to have to evade a burst of automatic fire as well as a hulking death machine. When a few bullets ping off of the car. That's why she's behind the wheel well, of course. She thinks nothing of it for now, lining up the shot. Her finger tenses over the trigger. Ping! Another shot. That sound was tinnier, like it hit something hollow…

It's all the warning the poor soldier gets before the car goes up in a towering inferno of flames, a literal fireball engulfing it in the way only Hollywood and high explosives have ever really managed. Even the advancing behemoth is caught in the blast. For a second it might seem like she's free of pursuit.

Then a car door comes flying at Domino from inside of the flames. Carm will call, "Keep your comm channel open."

* * *

"Well -that's- comforting! Yeah—it was a while ago, okay?!" Get somewhere high. Uh..well, she could try getting onto the roof and going over the top rather than running around the building, but couldn't it just..y'know. Throw a CAR after her? Slow turners. So Dom's effectively being chased by a mechanized tornado.

Somehow this does not put her mind at ease any.

'Keep your channel open.' "Yeah, I was planning on—" she starts to reply while glancing over her shoulder JUST in time to see a door come flying at her.

There's not enough time to yell before it slams into her side and sends her flying. It's a full framed jolt that knocks the wind out of the merc's lungs, a raised arm slamming into the back window of another car a heartbeat before the door chucks her inside of the parked vehicle then crashes into the side. Instantly the frame becomes so badly mangled that she's not likely going to get back out from that side.

Neena has just enough time now to shake some of the safety glass out of her hair and yell from the acute pain in her elbow before the entire roofline caves in overhead from a severed tire left flying away from the explosion.

That could have landed on her HEAD. Somehow the door flung her into safety while it was busy kicking her ass! The back seat is suddenly turned into a very cramped space with a sheared piece of steel axle impaling the cushions. It nicked the inside of her thigh. Another inch and she'd have been pinned inside and bleeding out in a real hurry.

"Oh jeezus, and I thought Sentinels were bad…"

* * *

Across the radio it must sound like the world is ending. When Domino starts speaking again she'll actually catch a soft sigh of relief from Carm. "Sentinels are still worse, don't worry," Carm will assure Domino. She has a smooth, slightly smoky voice that is actually rather soothing to hear spouted out you over a radio. In other circumstances she might actually be a pleasant voice to have running overwatch. Though right now…

There's a the lound whumpf of a vehicle being struck by impossible force, and then the scream of twisting, crumpling metal. The Escalade that Domino is currently holed up inside of is much, much heavier than a Mitsubishi Mirage, and it doesn't quite skitter away like the tin can he'd tossed earlier. Instead, the robot is crushing the already battered car. Inexorably. Tearing his way through steel frame and fiber glass foors toward Domino's position.

The far door is torn off and thrown away, leaving Domino face to face with the grinning, skeletal steel face of the attacking robot. The good news? The car being literally torn apart has freed her from the crumpled steel that was keeping her trapped inside. Small blessings.

Carmilla, meanwhile… Isn't saying much just yet. The last Domino heard she was running. But right now? Domino is just trapped the most hardcore version of Swan Lake ever performed.

* * *

"Thanks for the encouragement, chief," Domino deadpans then sucks in a breath while probing at her elbow. Auto glass is tough stuff, alright. That's gonna need a week's worth of ice.

Then the Cadillac jolts with frightening force and all of that plush interior meant to cut down on the road noise is put to the true test as the SUV becomes a giant Spam can. "Oh fuck—oh fuck!"

While the machine is working its way through so much steel to get to the creamy white center Neena is finally (frantically) reloading her two machine pistols. By the time the two slides slam back into battery she's left with some proper nightmare fuel of that grinning metal face staring right back at her, and a fresh series of gashes across a leg from where it got a little too close to scoring a crippling blow. A moment of proper terror overcomes the merc as she comes to the realization that the only way out of this car is to go -toward- the gleaming bloodied monstrosity.

The broken piece of axle is still lodged into the seat. It makes a good point to kick off from. The unloading of both pistols into the machine's face may just be gratuitous. The desperate "NYAAAH!" battlecry may just be superfluous.

Neena falls out of the Escalade and hits the ground in a roll between the robot's legs. They don't turn fast? She's going to put it to the test! Whitey springs back to her feet and Runs Like Hell, muttering some manner of swear with each rapid exhale.

Where the hell's the Jeep?!

No idea but around the corner is another one of those shadow ops guys waiting for her! The butt of a SCAR jumps out toward her face but she's already ducking, spinning about on her heels, pointing a pistol up beneath the guy's chin and popping him where the helmet doesn't cover.

Last round in the mag. Huh. Sure ran that one close.

"Carmilla I SWEAR TO GOD the next mission is my call!"

JEEP! There's the Jeep! That's..a really long fucking way away! Pale eyes roll in an 'of course' expression as she keeps hoofing (limping) it like Hell itself is on her heels. Work it, girl!

* * *

"Any time," Carmilla replies across the radio. Then she's silent. As Domino tumbles beneath the legs of the robotic murder machine there's a second of heart pounding, stomach lurching intensity where he swipes downward, like he just might catch her as she's diving past. He manages to scrape at her back, tearing fabric without actually catching the woman in question. Then she's off.

As promised, the machine doesn't so much turn as pivot, twisting with a sort of dreadful finality that is fortunately just what Domino was hoping for. She has to deal with pieces of flaming wreckage and the toppled, twisted light pole, their surroundings actually beginning to look very much like an apocalyptic war zone. Bombs clearly went off here. The only thing missing is craters pocking the ground.

On a straight run the robot is probably faster than Domino. IT takes a bit to pick up speed, but it just- keeps picking up speed as it breaks into a jog, then a run, and finally as flat out sprint all with the same emotionless expression on its features.

It could talk, but why? Talking is not part of its mission parameters.

* * *

Warzones she can handle. Warzones are disturbingly comfortable. Maybe the smoke and fire will provide some cover as well, who knows! Domino's just glad that her head hadn't been snipped off of her neck. Too damn close!

Throughout the maneuver she can hear those horrible sounds of pistons and servos carring the machine around. She can feel the ground tremble as it starts to pick up the pace. The increase in rhythm could be directly tied to her pulse by now, the growing fear being swallowed down and twisted into a steady mantra of "I hate you..I hate you..I HATE you…" over the comms.

The back of the Jeep is still open. She had been anticipating throwing their man right on inside. That failure proves to be a lifesaver as she ducks her head and -pushes forward.-

Almost there…

Almost there…

That the mighty Barrett happens to be facing in the right direction comes down to planning. It's way too big to turn around. Good call, Thurman.

"I'm not
going

down
like

THIS!"

Jumping clears the bumper. Momentum slides her straight toward the front, colliding with the divider wall as her hands already work to wrap around the monstrous gun. She'll have to shoot left handed. She doesn't care. Boots brace against the interior, it's all she can do to lift it off of the bipod and -Yell- in fear and blind determination as she starts hammering the trigger.

No aiming.

No need.

At this range she can't possibly fucking miss.

The muzzle blast shreds the top of a boot and cuts down into the skin but she keeps taking shots, not stopping until all five are down the pipe. Screaming the whole way.

* * *

One shot… Two… Three. The force of the rifle firing in this hurried state is enough to risk dislocating a shoulder or bowl her over outright. A jeep isn't a great place to brace for a shot even if you're in *good* shape. The first shot slams into the robot with a disturbing amount of non-finality. There's a hole punched through the chest plate and it rocks back, but then it's still advancing on the jeep. Still running. Picking up further speed. The second nearly takes off an arm.

It's still a ball of impossibly strong metal and hydraulics bearing down on Domino with the force of a freight train and a great deal less concern for the welfare of whatever is in its path. Implacable. Unstoppable. When the third shot hits it the left shoulder is shattered, leaving that arm dangling uselessly. And that's not enough. It hits the jeep with enough force to shatter the windows and rock the vehicle like it's dangerously close to tipping over and throwing Domino onto the pavement. The fourth shot ends up going up, through the roof of the vehicle. A mechanical limb is scrabbling at the mercenary from outside of the car.

"Get fucked!" There's… The Scorpion? That gauntlet on her left hand is back, and the tiny thing is literally leaping out, as if from nowhere, and ending up on the back of the robot, riding it like some kind of mechanical horse. With only one limb it can't reach its diminutive passenger. Who knew weighing a buck twenty and being all of five foot two would be a benefit in this situation?

Carmilla clenches her hand, takes a deep breath, and slams her gauntleted fist into the thing. It should be like a fly striking Goliath. It ought to be useless. But strangely, it rocks instead, like it was threatening to bowl over. Corrosive acid pumps into it through the gauntlet and she's clutching at its outstretched arm as it reaches for Domino … And those fingers stop moving. A bare inch away from finally grabbing onto the elusive mercenary.

And that's when the fifth shot goes right between the robot's eyes. Carmilla is leaping free of the thing as it is blown to hell, the mechanical skeleton toppling to the ground almost as if in pieces. She tumbles free and is showered in shrapnel. The left arm of the robot finally topples off and this actually hits Carm, though she's quickly kicking it away.

For her part, the Scorpion is bruised, bloodied, red in the cheeks, and perspiring freely. Whatever happened on her end there'll be a /story/ to tell. "Sounds like we've got a lot to talk about," the smaller merc manages.

Incredibly, the jeep is still in pretty good shape. Lady Luck is smiling on them tonight.

No, really.

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