Nick stood beside the Marcus character, who still looked like he could use something to ease his mood. Then the guy excused himself and headed for the door, which seems to be emminating an almost evil presence. And then the order came in; kill them all, every last one. Pretty simple. And as Marcus walked towards the exit of the club - pushing past people to make his way there - the doors blew off into the club, signifying the start of the extermination. Bits of the bouncer spattered in following the explosion, as well as a group of the soldiers of the New Order. Some gore landed atop Nicks' shirt as the club descended into madness; gunshots and death everywhere.

Nick approached the men that had just entered and had begun killing everyone in sight. They were New Order, that was for sure, but all in all the details didn't matter.
"Hey. Yes, you, soldiers. Do you see this?" he motioned to his clothes, now lightly covered in dead bouncer, "This is my favourite set of clothes, and you just fucking ruined it." the soldiers looked at him with confusion, only to suddenly stiffen up and realise their place.
"S-sir, we-we didn't mean t-" as the man began apologising, he was silenced with a gunshot; drowned out by the sound of fighting in the club. The brains of the man dripped from the soldier behind him, who stood as rigid as he did when Nick approached. In Nicks' hand, his pistol aimed upwards and directly at wher the head of the man used to be.
"I don't want your fucking apology, shit head. You lot, keep killing. I have some business to attend to." he said, walking away and into the crown of manic fighters.

Walking through the chaos and bloodshed, Nick all but tuned out from out, instead opting for a more suitable tune from his mind. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a grenade and lollipop, only to holster hid gun and thrown the grenade to his free hand. Then he bit the pin and pulled from it, before throwing into the the crowd of people shooting each other to shit. He unwrapped the lollipop and placed it into his both - listening to the delightful sound of his grenade detonating and killing multiple people. Then he suddenly tuned back in to the sight of him holding his knife and gun as a bullet wiped clean past his face. Oh fuck off... he thought, as he span on an axis and shot the first person he saw. Then Nick continued to spin, shooting every person in front of him until he heard the gun click; he was out of ammo. He holstered the gun once more and switched the knife to his stronger hand. Then he kept walking, towards a set of stairs he had previously not seen just next to the bar. A guy ran in front of him and grabbed him the the shirt, raising a fist to punch. Idiot he thought, as he grabbed the punch in mid air, twisted the guys arm behind his back and cleanly slit his throat with the blade. Then Nick twisted round and sliced another person throat, before ducking down and sweeping the legs from a female who had been shooting out wildly. Bringing the knife in a clean motion, he sliced open her stomach, which sent out a spray of blood and a painful scream of agony that pierced through the fighting. That couldn't have boded well. So, he reached into his jacket and pulled out another grenade, this time a lot different, he pulled the pin in the same manner as the last, but this time tossed it into the air. Then he leapt and barged through people, trying to get as far away from the impact zone as possible. Just in time, too, as the sound of burning men and cooking flesh filled the air as the grenade ignited everything around it. Ah, the sound of pain he thought, and he bit down on the lolli, causing it to shatter.

Juno hated helicopter flight. It should have been glamorous, flying through the air and dropping hell on the enemies below before dropping soldiers to finish the remnants. Yknow, like the stories that she heard while training from all the instructors. THe ones who had apparently been in a Darter air transport.

It...wasnt. It was tightly packed, loud, didnt smell very good and was extremely cold. Really, even under her protective gear she was trying hard not to shiver.

Oh well, when they landed, the exercise they were about to get would warm them up just fine.

"Squad, this is your pilot speaking! We are two kilometres from the target, get ready!"

Juno got up, holding a nearby wall bar as she unslung her rifle, checking to make sure there was a grenade loaded, then making sure the magazine actually had bullets in. This continued. Ammo, check. Explosives, check. Blades, check. Sidearm, check. Healthy dose of fear/respect from her men?

She looked over at the others, who were preparing the same way she was. The closest ones flinched slightly, although, to their credit, they hid it quite well. Satisfied, Juno got up and stood behind the pilot.

"Anything on the roof?" she yelled, trying to be heard over the rotor blades.

The pilot yelled back. "Two hostiles, both armed, neither with anti air or armour capability. Orders?"

Juno looked out of the forward window. The transport had stopped, but she could clearly see two small specks on the roof of the club, even despite the copious amounts of smoke that was coming from the battle below.

She smiled. "Dont give them a chance to take any of my men down. Use the frontal minigun. Cut them to pieces."

She grabbed another wall bar as the transport lurched forward, as the pilot began to aim. A pleasant whirring sound went into Juno's ears, followed by the sound of hundreds of rounds blasting from the minigun. The two resistance soldiers didnt stand a chance, being torn apart a dozen times over before they even realised they were being shot at, with the remains being splattered over the roof and off the side.

Quick. Violent. Efficent. Three words that summed up the New Order Special Ops units perfectly. Juno smiled as the transport sailed over the roof and began to slowly lower. She didnt let any of her men see the smile though.

Before the transport had reached the recommanded disembark height, Juno hd pulled the door open and leaped out, landing on both her feet like a cat. Her men followed suit, but she was already heading down the stairs to the lower levels. As she did so, she spoke into her comm bead.

"You saw the briefing. This is bandit country." She said, as she drew one of her knives. "Kill everything that moves."
____________

Andrew got up, coughing, wondering if the blood he tasted was his own, or someone elses. He wondered which one would have been worse. His gun had remained in its holster, and he pulled it out with shaking hands without even getting up.

New order. It had to be. Dead man shows up, is killed by assailant, who in turn is also killed. But this was...a full military operation. Not just a raid. How the hell did something like that warrant all this? And against a target as high-profile as nexus?

"What the FUCK did that guy know?"

In the few seconds that he used to get over the shock, and another few seconds that he used to survey the situation, the outcome was clear.

Nexus was finished. Their few trained personnel were being mown down like animals, along with just about anyone else who wasnt even a part of the resistance. The only option now was to...strategically withdraw. But where? The front and back doors were obviously controlled by the New Order, the roof was almost certainly controlled too and even if it wasnt, he would have nowhere to go short of jumping off the roof.

"If only i had one of those suits used by the flock..."

That left...the basement. Wonderful. With any luck, Kerrat was heading there too.

Slowly, Andrew began to move, his gun at the ready. Step by step, towards the basement staircase.

____________________________

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU CANT SEND HELP!?!??!?"

The voice on the other end of the line sighed, as if it was a shop owner dealing with a unsatisfied customer.

"We cannot send any forces. Your location is risky to head to, and even if we did, the New Order almost certainly has several gunships. We have even detected an emperor class heading for your location. its fairly far, but its certainly heading for you."

Kerrat went pale. An emperor? Why would they need one of those for an operation, even one like this...

"...But that is not our most pressing concern. We need to talk about the man that we heard ended up as a corpse near your front door."
The voice on the phone had changed. Instead of a womans accent, it now sounded like a mans, with a southern united states twang to it.

"He was carrying a computer disk on his person. Do you have it?"

Kerrat checked his pockets desperately. Even in his furious state, he felt almost unable to disobey a cabal member. He didnt have it. Who had it? Who had he given that wallet to? Was it in there? Oh god...

"i...dont think i have it...i think i know who..."

The phone gave a deep sigh. "Then we must go without it. This is going to be considerably more difficult than i previously thought..." The phone gave another sigh. It was doing that a lot.

"You have our greatest sympathies, Mr Kerrat. We all with you luck for the future, and we all sincerely hope that you have at least one bullet left in your sidearm."

The phone went dead. Kerrat stared at it, his eyes wide with horror. His fist slowly closed around it, crushing it to splinters. He sat down.

Alexei Kerrat, one of the most dangerous resistance leaders in existence, former aide to the cabal and former New Order Major, held his head in his left hand.



"What the hell have i done?" He sobbed, raising his handgun to his head as the sounds of the destruction of his life's work sounded all around him.

Her heart felt like it was pounding on the outside of her chest, her vision narrowed and all the sounds of gunshots and screams went mute. Dusk focused on the basement, hopefully either their escape or at least it could offer some sort of protection till this was over. She tried to keep herself as the smallest target she could when Anita pushed her towards to basement stairs, this started a fit of giggles from Dusk -quite often when she became anxious or down right afraid for her life she couldn't stop herself from laughing. It was her own little coping mechanism and this was certainly one of those times.
Bullets flew around everywhere echoing the 'ting ting' sound as they ricocheted, lights flashed and exploded glass fell from every direction. Whoever this mob was that were prematurely ending the night of the Nexus club goers, sure as hell were making short work of it.

Dusk practically leapt down the concrete stairs, taking two or three at a time only stopping when she hit the solid metal entrance door. Reaching out with her left hand to the rounded doorknob she tried to open the door.. nothing... She tried again this time putting a little weight behind her right shoulder into the door... again no movement.

Dusk caught a glimpse of Anita at the top of the stairs, rifle in hand spraying controlled busts of ammunition towards encroaching enemy "LOCKED!" She called out, frantically she tried again but this time with both hands, looking down she realised why the handle wouldn't open. Her left hand slowly dripped with a dark red fluid- her hand had been slipping around the doorknob, had she been hit by a bullet? Or was it from the door explosion? All the pain masked by the adrenaline pulsed through her arm, it excruciatingly burned and tingled all the same time. Dusk sucked a deep breath in, gripped the door knob tighter and pushed the door inwards, "I'm in!" Dusk yelled, it easily opened this time to reveal a rather well lit room scattered with shelving lined with boxes of miscellaneous items and empty stainless silver beer kegs.
"Hurry up!" Dusk screached, Anita descended down the stairs still taking pot shots. As soon as Anita was inside the doorway Dusk slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against it she slid down to the ground and searched for hopefully a way out of this hell hole. Their situation was going from bad to seriously fucked up. Dusk tried to control her breathing as best as she could when she realised they were stuck underground without an obvious exit. Ever since she was caught in a New Order building collapse she had terrible time dealing with small underground spaces.

The muffled sound of gunfire upstairs almost fooled Anita into thinking the battle was far away. Time to her was almost non existent for that entire fight. Another fight for survival that ended in her just barely dodging a bullet. The moment Dusk shut the door her eyes darted around with her stolen rifle, still alert for either another soldier or something to drink. She smiled at the though of the latter, but immediately grimaced. A sharp pain shot through her left cheek. There was wet substance slowly trickling its way down her face and it was obvious she was hurt. She felt felt around her face noticed small, hard sharp pieces was stuck in her flesh. Probably glass that shattered, but it was no where near as bad as Dusk's injury. Luckily she was able to use her limbs without issue.

"Well with luck we can find our way out of here and some booze. They must have something down here." Anita wondered aloud while moving forward sweeping the round letting Dusk to catch her breath. The door appeared secure and would likely take more than a few bullets to break through so they had time to look for some way out.

Anita moved through the room quickly and figured it was secure. It didn't take long before she began rifling through boxes and shelves for anything that can help. She looked for secret doors or passages and also wondered how would a high profiled professional resistance group hide these things. It would be a lie to say Anita wasn't exactly hopeful they wouldn't end up with a bullet in their head.

Nick continued on towards the staircase that undoubtedly led to the basement. Then, he saw 2 girls making there way inside; one firing into the crowd at New Order soldiers with a rifle. They were obviously no strangers to combat, but then that could be said to pretty much every person within the Nexus club. He pulled out his pistol and dropped the magazine, before sliding a new one in from the line of his jacket. The thing was definitely a work of great craftsmanship; filled with so many pockets small enough not to be noticed to large enough to fit a grenade or a couple of mags. If the two people who had just entered the basement didn't believe that he was a civilian (or that they had seen him killing a lot of Nexus members) things could get messy - and not for Nick.

He approached the basement, still pushing past the crowd that was the club, when he realised something. Juno, a New Order Captain he had "worked" with for a while, would probably be here. According to his commanding officer, she had been doing pretty well; and with that absurd yet oddly effective training regime to boot. Oh well, it could wait until either he was away from earshot or the 2 girls in the basement were dead. So as Nick walked towards the door, occasionally firing a shot or slicing someone, he began to wonder. What would his life had been like if he hadn't killed him... Or better yet, he learned to control his emotions sooner. Sure, they would've placed him under medical care eventually; but maybe if he hadn't done everything he had... Things could have been a lot different. He wouldn't be a designated Processor - or at least designated ID 0477 - and he wouldn't have been placed under the conditions he had been for so long. Then Nick shook his head to clear it, only to realise that he had stopped in front of the door to the basement which was now closed. It was time to put on a show.

Outside the door, a couple of gunshots rang out, followed by the calls and cries of a young man.
"Shit... Please... Open the door... Please... I-I need help... damnit!" another set of shots went out, "Get the fuck away from me! Please, open the damn door... I-" he very clearing sounded distressed. Any person in their right mind would have opened the door, no matter the situation. Nick pleaded from the other side, a smile across his face as he shot down Nexus members on stairs; all unarmed. Throughout it all, he pounded on the door with his free hand. He kept thinking as he continued the act; the innocent, naive and rather distressed boy was one of his favourite acts. It especially helped when the soldiers he dealt with didn't recognise him in casual wear.
"God damnit, I need help! Why cant you open the goddy door... Please..." when shots went out, and then the sound of the inevitable; the dead mans trigger. The click of an empty chamber resounded countless times before he decided to bring it out. Waterworks normally did the trick if nothing else worked. He began to cry crocodile tears as best he could without laughing or even snickering.
"P-Please... I-I beg of you... They're gonna kill me... Please..." he broke down against the door, hitting his head lightly against it a couple of time; and a smile of pride across his face.

Juno whirled around, slicing through the barrel of a handgun pointed right at her face. She then slashed foward, killing the opponent with a riposte straight into his left eye. Before he even hit the floor, she looked around.

It was...unpleasant. Were all these people really resistance members, like the briefing had told her? She had an unpleasant feeling that she knew the answer.

Oh well. Couldnt be helped now. If she didnt do it, someone else would. She pulled her sidearm and fired into a group of people not far away. She didnt react as she watched two fall dead to the floor.

As she watched them die, she noticed someone familiar. Twirling her blades, she yelled at him.

"Nick! Stop fucking around and find their leader! He has to be here somewhere!"

______________________________

Delta was pacing nervously, trying to ignore the sounds of gunfire and screaming below.

"How long left?" he stuttered to the communications expert nearest him, who was still trying to concentrate on his laptop. "Same as when you asked five minutes ago, sir. At our current rate, all hostiles will be purged within the next hour."

"good. Good..." he whispered to himself, making the comm expert unable to hear him.

"Its necessary...Its necessary..."

"Sir!"

Delta looked up. The soldier had a look of alarm on his face. "We have detected an emperor class air transport heading towards us! We never called any reinforcements, so..."

"Really?" said Delta, calming down slightly. "They must be on patrol. Contact them and..."

The expert looked up. "Sir...the designation for the transport, its..."

"Oh no..."
"...Hyperion."

Delta almost fell to his knees right there and then, his face going completely pale and his mouth going dry.

"Oh no...its her...thats her transport...why is she here...why does she, of all days, have to fucking come HERE?!?!"

He msut have stood there for about a minute, before he realised that the communications expert was still looking at him. Managing to hold in his terror, he nodded to him.

"Find them a landing position. Give her my regards, ill meet her once i oversee the rest of this. I may as well bring my officers with me."

Shock had started to set in, Dusk's rosey red cheeks now drained of colour and her body began to tremble. Get a hold of yourself woman this isn't your first rodeo! Suck it up or you're dead. Her inner dialogue stated matter of factly.

Dusk climbed up off the floor cradling her arm, swallowing hard she braced for pain as she reached inside to retrieve her pay packet before slipping it into her boot. No way in hell was she going to leave that behind. She began awkwardly removing her jacket dropping it to the floor and rolling up her sleeve, tattooed arm scattered with nasty looking lacerations slowly oozing blood. There was a fully stocked med-kit and not to mention a fairly decent armoury to boot in the safe house like shipping container that Dusk and her partner used a few blocks from where she was but it didn't look like she was going to get there any time soon.

She hadn't noticed a chemically acidic tang that wafted around the room until she began searching the opposite of the room to Anita "I can't see a way out and this room stinks" Dusk groaned at Anita screwing up her nose. A small bunch of tools sat on the lid of one of the large 44 gallon drums- a small wrench, tape measure and a few screwdrivers of varying sizes, Dusk moved them around and took the largest one. Better this than nothing.

Dusk damn well nearly jumped out of her skin at the fist pounding on the outside of the door followed by the cries of a man "Shit... Please... Open the door... Please... I-I need help... damnit! "
GUNSHOTS "Get the fuck away from me! Please, open the damn door....."
Dusk tensed up shooting a glare directly at Anita hoping to god she didn't want to try and be some sort of hero and save the poor sucker on the other side. Dusk had never locked the door, fingers crossed whoever was on the other side didn't work it out.
"God damnit, I need help! Why cant you open the goddam door... Please..." The voice squealed again. Dusk pressed her fingers to her lips in a 'ssshhhhh' and motioned Anita to take one side of the door while she took the other.
BANG BANG BANG "P-Please... I-I beg of you... They're gonna kill me... Please..."
In Dusk's mind If whoever was on the other side was to burst through they would end up bringing the rest of the sordid crew from upstairs down as well.

Then it went quiet....

It was a matter of time before she would return to his quarters to spread the news. He could finally find out what exactly he was used for, the purpose of him still being in one piece. The knowing of traitor-ship to his very own humanity waved his emotions to-and-fro. His head was resting in the palms of both hands, trembling at whatever thoughts would come. It must've been a few hours or so. As soon as he was sent back, tests were run on him whilst whatever outcome went on at least a few miles away. He'd never be able to hear, read or identify what could've possibly went down, and that fucking terrified him to the core. His mind went to those on the roof. Luther 'Besra' Martindale. Lucinda 'Goshawk' Graham. Shikra... All three had perished, and from that, many more might've. It had been a short while since the man had even heard of the Flock's movement, as if they had just gone incognito. In known that Marcus was captured, they would plot day after day to think of a way to release their brethren before they were killed...or said something they shouldn't. Having someone with the experience and knowledge of Marcus in the captive clutches of the New-Order spelt grief, and made them stand down all operations to focus on making sure that Marcus was going to make it. Nothing had been heard of, unfortunately. He was still there. They were still unable to make a move. Marcus let out the deepest of moans, tightening his grip around the withered forehead. Without warning, his door was unlocked, and it slid open slowly. Expecting the rush of footsteps from Rosa, as she usually did...there was a pause of silence. Through the corner of his preferable vision, he could make out her standing there...watching him. After a minute of just looking towards him, she approached; her files were within her hands, labelled Confidential.

"Marcus? You...alright?" She sounded quite distraught. Maybe she had gotten the time to think about what Marcus had told her...About what will happen to her...about what they were doing. To her expectation, Marcus only grunted a yes. He was never great at communicating, and the files of his service career stated this issue. "Hey...I was just looking through your camera feed and noticed tha-" She looked back towards Marcus, seeing him glumly stare up at her now. Rosa silenced herself, opening the folder and sitting in a chair opposite the bed he was rested on. "So...our Mission, hey? Good success on our behalf. Not much else I can really say bu-"

"W-What happened after...W-we left?" Marcus spoke up, muttering a low tone. Rosa looked oddly at him.

"U-uhm. You know...a good mission complete and we returned. It is all go-"

"I said...What...Happened." He retorted. The tone was now stuttering, knowing something horrendous was about to slam straight into his conciousness. Rosa looked down slightly, trying not to make eye contact. These sort of parts of her job were difficult...telling people outcomes they did not want to hear...and expecting herself to go along as if another day at the office had gone by.

Her voice trailed slightly as she hummed, trying to think of a way to put it that didn't make it sound horrifically grim or disturbing. She, herself, for once wasn't prepared to just sit back and let him sob over something they had accomplished with flawless results.

"From what we have confirmed, our teams then moved in after I made our little 'Call'. Pretty good timing, as many armed personnel, including two highly-respected Captains, Juno and one known as Nick, that entered. The exact details of their actions aren't for our eyes, but we do know that we have a confirmed 306+ Deaths from those purged within the building." She said, a slight grin of proudness flashed at Marcus. There was a deafening silence as she waited for a response, and so be it. A trembling voice seeped from his lips.

"You are proud...p-proud to be o-one of those...those...those who ended so many lives..." He stumbled through his vocal journey.

"Well...they were Nexus...Terrorists! You know that they are bad peop-"

"AND...What makes y-you think...they were all Nexus soldiers? I-It's a NightClub...People g-go there often! I met so-someone...who clearly was j-just a business woman. You s-seriously have forgotten the FUCKING OTHERS!" He leapt to his feet and wrapped his fingers around the rim of a water-basin in the corner of the room, mainly for cooking purposes. Rosa's face showed nothing but shock. She hadn't expected him to act so...defensively towards those who died. It traced her mind as she thought about those numbers..."Think...Think for once in your fucking life...your ever-so small life...that some people involved didn't deserve to die! Many of those within that building, fuck...maybe...maybe even m-more than half...were Citizens! N-not everyone t-there was a-armed...You s-send two blood-thirsty p-pricks to g-go murder. Cold-blooded style killings...w-with little consideration...Fuck...j-just...fucking shut up a-about this Mission..." Once again, she was silent. She had nothing to say, and to be honest, she only felt regret. It was true. She hadn't been considerative. She knew that there were many non-Nexus personnel killed. She knew her actions were crucial to the Operation...This wasn't just a Terrorist Hunt, but a mass Siege that was targeted to succeed with no obstructions, even common Citizen lives. On that note, she stood up slowly and awkwardly, making her way towards the exit. As she left, Rosa looked to Marcus, seeing him begin to wash his face in the mirror. A faint glimpse of failure flickered in her eyes as she turned, locking the door behind her.

A Grand scheme of lighting and reflection made him lift his head. Since his last argument that had occured about 32 minutes ago, he was in a difficult situation that could mean he was at least the slightest bit cheerful. It was a light, or reflective signal coming through the glass slit on the door to his quarter. At first, he did not take notice of it; the thing that really got his attention the second time was the banging against the door. Marcus raised his head in confusion, feeling a sense of anxiety kick in knowing something wasn't right. If someone was trying to get in, surely there'd be some sort of keycard that'd let them in. The only two people who visited Marcus personally were Rosa and the Indian Interrogator, though roughly speaking he seemed brawny enough to tear the entire building in half, let alone the door. He looked to the window, only seeing the light. It was difficult to even predict what was going on. The banging continued as a muffled voice managed to spread through the solid frame. He stood up slowly, making his way to a small terminal. The Terminal didn't have much control, or even actions, to commit. Maybe using a controlled network for personnel, as well as the standard Camera Controls for both his dormitory and department. The cameras were a way of safety, both inside and outside views of people. It could be used to the advantage of seeing invading 'Insurgents' enter specific choke-points within the storey. As he went through the list of cameras authorised for his own use, he selected the camera for the outside of his door. That was when he saw her. Rosa...she was standing there, looking scared. It was the first time he'd thought of her being scared...It was almost as if she were running...panicking or something. He looked towards the settings for the camera, the specific device being linked to the keypad terminal on the outside. Enabling the microphone, he listened carefully. She was breathing heavily, muttering his name over and over as if she needed help.

"W-what...what's going on? Just...use your keycard or something?" Marcus addressed, not entirely sure of the whole situation. Rosa wouldn't be able to see his face, but he could clearly analyse every emotion she was emitting and it was obvious that her's were for a negative purpose.

"M-Marcus! Authorise my card! Please...Authorise it quickly!" He looked at her anxiously through the camera lens, taking a minute to confirm what she asked him to do. Following her request, there was a few moments of him shuffling through the personnel linked to the Terminal. He searched for the name.

Rosa Julietta.

Nothing? He searched again.

Rosa Julietta.

Nothing again? Marcus looked back at the monitor she was placed on. "Rosa, it isn't coming up with anything. You...you don't seem to be registered o-onto the p-personnel list?" Her face dropped slightly as she stopped banging for the heartbeats that past. "R-Rosa? What's...What is going on?" She began to bang on the door more, begging for Marcus to re-open it. Before Marcus could move from the terminal, more shouting from within the Microphone made him stand still. From behind her, seven bodies approached. 5 Men and women, armed in more than just the simple Cannon Fodder gear, moved into a line in front of her. She backed away, only being visibly pressed against the door. Behind the team, two larger men approached. One was the Interrogator, and in front of him...a familiar face.

"2nd Lieutenant Rosa Julietta...you put up quite the fight back there, didn't you?" He grinned. It instantly fixed a memory into Marcus' mind. The voice, the uniform. It was in fact that very same officer responsible for the capturing of himself. Marcus stared blankly at the screen, as if frozen in time. The shock reeled down his spine and placed itself into the core of his conciousness. He felt fear. He felt horror.

"S-stop...stop this James? You know-"

"YOU, Ms. Julietta, WILL...and I Mean WILL...address me formally..." The man, identified so far as James, raised his tone. "This may be heresy, but I am still in a position where you need to know...that I am your superior!" She looked away, a hand from James slipping to the side holster. There was at least 6 Metres distance between the two standing off, and still there was nowhere for this woman to make an escape is she wished to. Fixed aim kept her on stress...on point. "SAY IT PROPERLY!" He drew his own handgun, pointing it towards her as the other hand casually rubbed against his small facial hair. He grinned, standing and letting his Longer coat droop downwards. Rosa squealed in fear, before uttering the words out to him, clearly audible through the microphone.

"Y-Yes...Yes Sir!" James couldn't help but smile.

"Think about it R'...I've been working in this establishment for a long time, and so have you. We trained together...we joined together...we fought together. You are a field Officer. You are addressed by a rank the other Field-Agents only dream to have, yet you commit such an act, that a Major like myself has to follow you on. How many was it, Rosa? How many men and women did you kill back there?" Marcus kept scrambling across his keyboard, trying to capture every informative piece of appearance of the Major that he could. Rosa stuttered, as Marcus moved the camera enough to reveal tears streaming from her eyes. 9 Hearts began to race as the vicinity stood on edge. Triggers were near pressing. "That's right...12...12 Fellow comrades who fell without even the bat of an eye. You know...Taylor was with that 12...So was Simon, and Jennifer. Not a smart move, is it? IS IT?!" The Major pulled the hammer down on his Handgun. The noise echoed through the microphone, as the sheer noise of the Hammer was enough to make Rosa flinch in fear, bursting into a louder cry.

"SOMEONE HELP ME!" She screamed, cowering herself up into a standing ball, as small as being on her foot could be. "O-Open the door!" She turned to the microphone.

"Fucking Traitor..." The words were slow, but as she turned back to face him...Marcus had to step back. The shock as he turned to the window. Seeing her flail. On Camera, a bullet ejected from his barrel and slammed into the neck of Rosa. Marcus' eyes widened. He began to breathe heavily as he saw her drop to the floor. She wasn't dead head. James was watching her bleed from her neck slowly, gargling every second. Her choking was barely audible on the speakers inside, but he could horrifyingly tell. The man crouched down, a sense of power surged through him as she continued to struggle to keep a grasp on life. He turned around, beginning to depart. However, before he could even reach the Team, who were lowering their firearms, he turned once more...Another bullet was fired, this time putting the dying woman out of her misery with a single projectile to her head. Marcus leapt back again, seeing all but her life spilling onto the floor and staining the shining rooms. The man looked to the team, telling them something. The group rounded up the body as James called in a report. Marcus sat back, thinking about what had happened...she must've listened to what he said...she must've listened to what was going to happen...she could've flared out at the New-Order after they discussed who was caught up in the Nexus Raid. She died because Marcus poisoned her mind...Marcus...This was his fault, to himself...

Nick sat on the ground, with his pistol in hand and his free hand reaching for another mag. All he could get from the other side of the door was silence, which probably meant they didn't want him in. He lightly knocked on the door, quiet enough so that the others couldn't hear it. To his surprise, what came back was not the sound he expected. The people inside hadn't bothered to lock the door, which meant that they were, officially, cold hearted bastards. Well, not that that wasn't to be expected. From across the room, Juno yelled at Nick to move, to which he obliged.
"Yes, Captain" he replied, making sure to add a large amount of sarcasm to his mention of her rank. It was great teasing her about that. He stood, and shot the nearest person he saw to make sure the gun was working. Then he swivelled and shot straight at the door, the bullet breaking through it and hitting the ground by the two inside.
"I'll be back for you two later" he yelled at the door as he turned away and fired a couple more shots into the crowd, one hitting one of Juno's men and sending him sprawling to the floor.

Nick found his way to a door; a locked door. It was pretty sturdy by the looks of things, and wasn't likely to give way if he tried breaking it down. He kicked it a couple of times, causing a loud banging sound to reverberate around the club. Then he drew the pistol and shot at the handle, causing it to break into pieces and scatter across the ground. The door swung open, allowing Nick access to the higher floors where the leader inevitably was. He kicked the door open slightly and made his way up the stairs, finding an office of some guy. He kicked the door in and aimed his pistol directly at the man, who sat with a pistol to his head whilst looking very solemn. He wasn't going to kill him, because torture was so much more fun. He fired off a set of shots, one aimed for his right leg, another the left and the final one the raised arm. As soon as they fired he dropped the gun and grabbed two different items; his knife, and a syringe he kept in his pocket. Holding them, he leapt at the guy with ALMOST full intent to kill. Except that he wasn't, despite the syringe being filled with poison. Who knew, maybe the guys was just like him; a freak of nature.

"B, that place will be a slaughterhouse." Leo chided to the cellphone who had been ringing moments ago. Delivering the news. Apparently the New Order had decided to bare its fangs for real in a rather crowded, Nexus funded nightclub. Special Operations, APC's, Recon soldiers and even gunships. The outcome would be no surprise, but the sheer cruelty of it all had made Ramirez's stomach turn into an ugly knot. And yet, he knew that he was just one, and there were a lot of them around.

"I know, L. But nobody's going to help them. And that's why we have to. We parted with the New Order to make a difference, right?" An elder, much more experienced voice answered. That made Leo clinch his fist. He was right. They HAD to try. Else, Palailogoi actions and words would ring hollow.

"I don't think i can snatch anyone from that killzone about to happen."

"Lad, I know. But you must try.Sometimes, the right man in the wrong place can be the key."

"They're professional trained killers. And I'm just one."

"Trained like them, L. And on top of that... you've survived outer space. Do not belittle yourself. I have faith in you."

"Alright. Here goes nothing." Leo closed the cellphone, and quickly exited his nondescript car. With a deft kick he opened the trunk, revealing a combat armor and helmet with a golden two-headed eagle engraved on the left shoulder, as well as a cache of weapons inside a duffel bag. Inhaling, and checking he wasn't seen, headed for the nearest sewer entrance, weapons and armor in tow.

The stench of the sewer was almost unbearable. The fact he was packing half an armory inside the duffel bag didn't help. Ramirez had followed the instructions he had been given to heart. Intel indicated an often overlooked fact of the Nightclub. It had a small grate in the basement, which was too small for a person to fit through...but easily breachable with just a token amount of explosives. The muffled sounds of gunshots made him stop in his tracks. The tenous light of the Nexus basement pointed the location of the grate. Leo smiled faintly as he kneaded a couple of plastic explosive strips. It was then when he noticed a couple of female voices running about the basement.

Assailants? No... most likely survivors. Given their speech patterns.

He didn't think twice and made haste setting up the fuses and detonator. In a rather neat self controlled bang, the grate and a portion of the concrete fell, creating a hole wide enough to evacuate one person of a time. Taking the duffel bag and standing in top of the rubble, he waved his hand out of the hole.

"Psst, hey here!"

Dusk slowed her breathing as the disturbance behind the door went quiet for a few minutes that felt like twenty. What a fucking night. She should have listened to Sonny when he advised her earlier yesterday to use a dead drop location but like usual Dusk thought she knew better.
The male on the other side door piped up, acknowledging a Captain. Captain...military... I would bet this is New Order... assholes! she thought.
"I'll be back for you two later! the voice trailed off. Dusk tossed her screwdriver aside in a hissy fit, pacing aimlessly around the room she scowled at Anita who was checking the amount of ammunition left in her clip. "Not fuc-" Dusk was cut off by an small but intense explosion on the other side of the room sending her heartbeat racing yet again and a craving for another taste of whiskey, she hit the floor tucking her head between her arms for protection and wished for this night to be over already.

Psst, hey here!"a non threatening voice echoed from below.

That's it. Dusks nerves were officially scattered- two explosions, unfortunate rendezvous, gunfire and underground spaces. She was no solider, more than capable yes but she had people to do this kind of shit FOR her, she just supplied the means. Particles of concrete dust aimlessly floated through the air as hand waved out of the newly formed hole in the floor. Dusk had two options- either go back out the door to god knows what was waiting out there or take a chance on the hand.

Shakily she crawled over to the hole in the floor, looking over into the depths blinking until her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she was greeted by the bluest eyes and an wide grin.

She swallowed hard "Who the fuck are you!"

So far so good. At least one survivor. Leo smiled warmly at the figure who was peeking at him from the heights. No doubt probably scared out of her wits right now. Who wouldn't? Hell, even he, with all the training he had received, would've been at least stunned when someone turned the whole club in a warzone without prior warning.

"A good samaritan. Call me Leo." Ramirez answered back. "I'm here to provide an escape route and- hold on." His gaze darted to one side, as he seemed to notice something.

"Shit! Gonna strangle the intel guy." He added as he disappeared from the hole... and reemerged from a nearby trapdoor. "Huh, so the breach wasn't needed. Good to know. I must be looking like an idiot now." He stood tall as he dragged the duffel bag, breathing deeply, opening the contents of his portable armory. Knife, assault rifle, some grenades.

"By the way, exit is to the left in the sewers. Then find the marked exit. It's the one AFTER the marked exit. It'll lead you behind the New Order's killzone perimeter." The large man mumbled. "I need a name for this..."

"Ah, Operation Stamford Viking. Will do." He added, finally loading the magazine in the rifle with a sharp click. "So uh... yeah, you people, kinda run. I'm going to keep these New Order folks busy so more survivors can crawl out of this deathtrap."

Jesus Christ, I am really talkative today. Why do I sound this stupid? Maybe I'm nervous... anyway, focus, Leo. It's time to be a shining knight and don't end with a bullet in your skull for your troubles.

Andrew kept moving, staying low, keeping his gun close. It probably wouldnt help if any of them noticed him.
"They wouldnt shoot me..."
He knew about the bounty. He really didnt want to be taken in alive.

He moved near the door leading to the basement, hiding behind a pillar as he listened to a woman's voice.
"Get up, your armor took the hit. God, im going to kill that prick some day...Anyway, stay here. Guard the door and dont go in, who knows if they booby trapped it..." the voice trailed off into the distance.

Andrew paused for a moment, waiting for the woman to leave, all the while screwing a silencer onto his sidearm. He jumped up, pointing it at the soldier, who appeared to not have completely recovered from his wound inflicted by "That prick"
"Whos down there?" he asked. The soldier didn't raise his gun, knowing that he was beaten.

"A few resistance members. We weren't going to..." he was stopped as Andrew pulled the trigger, blowing the contents of his skull over the back of his helmet. Now knowing that his escape route hadn't been found, he shot the lock open without even looking and ran inside, pulling the door shut and sealing it again with a nearby tire iron. He looked around, and noticed several people in the room, with a large hole in the floor. He walked up to them, too stressed to remember that he was shy.

"There was a trapdoor you kn..." he finished with a squeak, as he realized that two of the three people he was talking to were women.

"L...lets just...er...get out of here. I um...killed a soldier outside and they are gonna notice soon..." he trailed off, trying to wish his coat would swallow him up and hide him from all their...looks.

________________

Delta tried not to shield his face as the emperor transport hovered over him as he stood on the roof of the building. Instead of it landing, several rope ladders fell down from its loading bay, and five soldiers in elite riot longcoats and body armor climbed down. Delta tried to greet them, but they ignored him until a sixth figure climbed down, jumping off the last four rungs like she couldnt wait to see him. She wore a dark red dress uniform with gold trim, which complimented her silver hair.

Delta stepped foward, opening his mouth to speak, only for the woman to hold her index finger up as a sign for him to be quiet. SHe walked to the edge of the roof, looking in the direction of the nexus nightclub.
"Three hundred, was it?"

Delta's mind raced, before realising that she was talking about the body count of the nexus.
"Ye..yes, that is our current estimate. We are currently finishing..."

"I know. I checked. Dont tell me what i already know, Delta. I know everything thats happened." She turned to one of her men, before throwing a small object to him, which he caught with one hand. She then turned around, and walked up to Delta, clearing her hair away from her eyes.

"Director-General, may i request a reason to why you are presen..."

She pointed her finger to the air again, and said a single word to her surbodinate, the one that she had thrown the object to.
"Record."

The soldier lifted the object in front of his face, and Delta realised what it was. A camera phone.

Before he could yell, the Director-General grabbed his head in her hands, forcing her thumbs into his eye sockets.

Delta screamed like he had never screamed before. His accompanying officers shouted in horror and protest, but the Director-General's guards had already drawn their sidearms on the "Record" and each fired several shots, each one catching one of Delta's officers in the face or chest. Before they could attempt to aid their commander, they were dead, killed with ruthless efficiency.

The Director-General continued to force her thumbs deeper into his head, pushing him down to his knees. She remained completely emotionless, until a few seconds in, when a small smirk was visible on her face. But she didnt say a word, until she got bored and let him go, wiping her hands on Delta's own jacket before viciously kicking him in the face, snapping his neck and finishing the unfortunate man off.

She turned around, cracking her knuckles as if she had just finished lifting weights rather than murdering her own subordinate with her bare hands.

"Little shit got blood on my uniform. I should have just used my gun." she said simply, before turning to the soldier holding the camera phone. "Did you get it?"

The soldier gave it back to her. "Whole thing."

THe director general nodded. "Good. Contact the forces at the nightclub. Order them to make a full retreat. Inform them that Director-General Mcallister is in command of this situation now. I want to speak to the field officers in there now, one of them has earned a promotion.

SHe looked back at the blood soaked remains of Delta, as well as the corpses of his entourage.

"We need a replacement officer or two. These ones seem to have stopped working properly."

The sound of a focusing camera echoed through his room ever-so slightly. It was odd. James stood behind his monitor, a fellow comrade in front of him. His eyes were quite narrow as he stared deeply at Marcus' movement. Well, he should really say non-movement. He was completely still, almost a statue amongst the buzzing life outside the Three Towers of the 52nd Detachment. Within it's concealed and windowless walls, Marcus sat still. He looked towards a digital time-reading, mounted onto the wall. It read the time; late evening indeed, it was something of a remark. James noted down the key facts. It had been 23 Hours since the Nexus Operation, 22 since he returned...2 hours since the death of Rosa. The informal execution must've gotten to him, right? He was a traumatised lad, no doubt, but that severely hindered what he wanted out of the ex-apprentice. Strange. It was strange, indeed. His old apprentice, back under his wing. The melancholic memory. He was sat in the same slumbered position, much younger as such. The boy after the execution of Sergeant Wilkshire...He placed his hand onto the back-rest of the chair, his monitor operator speaking up.

"Sir, with all do respect, what is the deal with this person anyway? Why wasn't he killed like the other three on that rooftop, if you don't mind me asking?" James' hand fumbled onto his face, scratching the stubble underneath his mouth and chin. Standing back up, he took a deep breath.

"Marcus William Brenada. He never signed up, and was special amongst the rest. He's a Field Operative, the type that infiltrate and snuff-out. He was amazing at his job. His petite, though tall, personality made him exceptionally easy to both manipulate and fall sympathy for. From what I can remember, Corporal, is that he had over 7 odd shutdowns. He was respected here. He's technically still part of us. An Inside-Operator, a role many dream to get. Unfortunately, he did disappear. I trained the boy for a good amount of time, and I was keen on making him among the great names, Juno and Nickel and such...The night we raided them, we find him on a rooftop, drinking tea. The suit, the appearance, he was almost a completely different man. The boy I knew wasn't the same anymore, which you must know from your family, Corporal, that it is a strange experience. He's still alive because he has the information he said he'd provide, and it is a matter of who can get it out that'll bring us one step closer to shutting down the pigeons, or whatever they are called..." After finishing his short anecdote, he patted his back. "Contact Marcus, tell him I'm coming in. I want to see what I can do myself. If not...you know who to call." The Corporal nodded, leaving the conversation to swivel back to the monitor and spoke into the microphone.

---

The door slid open, just as Marcus had been told. He remained mildly still, but his head postured upwards towards his Superior. He nodded, though not out of respect but fear. This was it. Years had gone by since the two had seen each other, without a gun to his head. They had never talked for such a while that even this seemed awkward for the Man of Many Arms. He looked at Marcus and handed him a box, filled with small bits of paper. Marcus looked at the box, then back up towards James. It was almost obvious to Marcus what he was trying to do. All that interrogation training back in the day made him notify it easily, yet he still ran along with it as if he had no utter clue.

"Marcus...I wanted to check on you. Catch up quickly before I go do an inspection on the 43rd Barracks down South." Marcus nodded slightly, once again. He was rather terrified right now, predicting this to be his death. The camera watched the two talk. "I wanted to thank you, for the work you've been committing yourself to. I know the other members seem to be rather Rough from what you remember. And quite frankly, Marcus, they don't trust you the way I do. I remember what we had done in the past and that I know you are still the same Infiltrator we both needed and deserved." Marcus looked up towards him, glumly. He knew exactly that this was all a lie, in some way, and listened to avoid any trouble. "You know what, M'...I'm going to promise you again. You'll be among those great names, I promise. Which brings me to the subject of you being visited by someone, maybe, soon?" He perked up.

"By...by who?" The stammered words spilled out.

"Not sure, to be honest...that's for Her to decide..." He looked to the camera, pointing. Marcus knew exactly what this'll mean...they want the information...and they'll do it peacefully without violence to ensure he remains on their side.

"No one is just good samaritan in this city" Dusk scoffed at man as he disappeared back down the hole.
Looking him over, Leo was obviously knew what and prepared for what he was getting into and Dusk moved to the side to let him through nodding as he explained the way out of the sewer.
"Leo right?...." She painfully lowered herself into the escape hole The damp smell of rotting garbage and stagnate water filled her nostrils "Thanks!" She called back to him as she disappeared into the sewers reciting his directions quietly to herself.

"Intel guy was sloppy as hell." Leo seemed to somewhat grumble. He wasn't going to live down the trapdoor fumble, was he? He looked at the new arrival. It seemed he knew the place a little better than the other girl. He didn't seem one of those combat types. But one couldn't be too wary. Sometimes the most harmless ones hid tremendous psychotic violent jerks. Nevertheless, the way he had chosen to chastise Leo flagged him as someone, at the very least fond of the club and frowning upon needless violence. He seemed alright, for now. One couldn't be too sure.

As the other girl had said, there were no good samaritans left.

Leo appraised his options. The other man had said he had killed a guy. Well, that wasn't the issue here. Had he had gone with his original plan, there could be a significant amount of fallen New Order soldiers. "Any more survivors left?" He finally pieced to ask, tapping the barrel of his rifle with his hand in a show of contained impatience. He then added. "Evac route is to the left, passing the marked sewer exit. The mark itself is for disorienting. Take the next one after."

Time for a little reconaissance Leo breathed deep as he walked towards the door in silence, finger on the trigger and a flashbang in hand. He would need to figure out if there was a cue to intervene or not. Now, Leo wouldn't hesitate to kill if he had to, but he frowned in wantom violence in general. He wouldn't waste time avenging the dead here. Not at least for now. He couldn't turn a rescue operation in an assault to the New Order forces. At least not when he was just a lone individual. He reached the door outside the basement, only to find it to be jammed with a tire iron.

Your skin's really important to yourself huh... Leo wondered, upon seeing that someone else, likely the man, had sealed the exit out in fear. Well, it couldn't be helped. He probably thought everyone was dead. Still, he decided not to remove it, but instead lean against the wall, to try and hear the situation beyond the door.

Retreat, huh. They might've achieved what they've come to do here in first place. Or killed everyone. Damn. He decided to keep a little more at the ready, just in case someone had just been assumed dead. He really wished there was a medic with him now.

Five hours later......

Bleep...bleeeeep...bleeeeeep...
The phone vibrated across the wooden table stirring Dusk awake from her alcohol induced sleep. She licked her dry lips as she slowly rolled her head off her arm the she used as a pillow, she felt like shit, clearly she was developing the hangover from hell. Blinking a few times she managed to focus her eyes on the three quarter empty bottle of whiskey still sitting in front of her.
Bleep......bleeeeep......bleeeeeeep..... Her phone sounded like an oversized wasp on the timber table, she grabbed it and answered it groggily.
"What"
"I heard what happened, are you okay?" It was an older mans voice on the other end- deep, serious and one she knew intimately.
Dusk sat up looking at her injured arm, cleaned and bandaged luckily not needing any stitches.
"Mmmmm..... Yeah, I guess.....It was New Order wasn't it?" She questioned.
"Yes"
"Do you know why?"
"Not yet"
"Amed.....it was a fucking slaughter"
"I know but you got out"
"Barely..."
There was an uncomfortable silence as she waited, wanting him to comfort her with kind words.
"Did you get my package?" Was the question that broke the silence.

Dusk dropped her head and sighed wanting to hang up on Amed right there and then but she couldn't bring herself too. She lifted her eyes to the table, it was covered in a mess of paperwork, photographs and maps of the city, she shuffled them around until she found the A4 sized orange envelope. She picked it up earlier yesterday but hadn't had a chance to view its contents.
"Yeah... I got it here now, what about it" she tore open an end and emptied the documents in front of her. She began sorting through, most of the New Order watermark pages were lined with thick black marks covering certain words and sentences, others were neatly hand written and the last few were black and white surveillance photographs.
"Good... Good, have you read through them" Amed enquired.
"Yeah yeah" she lied, she would look over them a little later when she didn't feel so hungover.
"We need to locate Mr Marcus Brenada"
Holding her phone to her ear with her shoulder she picked through the photographs slowly, each of them showing the same three men engaged in a conversation. The first two she just glanced off but the third her eyes steadied and widened. Surely not.
"No fucking way" she gasped quietly as she recognised the grim looking young man from the bar at the club.
"What's wrong?" Amed spoke a little surprised.
"What did you say his name was?" She chewed on her lip.
"Marcus Brenada"
Dusk recalled a woman calling him 'M' when he was pulled him away from the bar before he pleaded for her to get people out.
"Dee?"
Dusk slapped the photos down and poured herself a the remains of the bottle of whiskey in last nights glass.
"I think I know where to find him..."

Directed to LetMeDoStuff.

The early morning orchestra of clanging of pots and pans echoed, joined in by the sharp shouts of Chinese workers from the kitchen behind her. A wafting scent of fresh rain and garbage still clung to the crisp early morning air as Dusk huddled behind the open counter top window of the small noodle shop. She had been coming to this particular spot for a while now, not only because in her opinion they were the best ramen in the city but it also provided a meeting place close proximity to the New Order Towers for her to conduct her business with a select few New Order personnel. The city still slept other than those few early morning workers scurrying about like cockroaches as the sun hadn't peaked over the horizon. Only the neon glow from various street signs provided any illumination to the rain drenched dirty city.

Dusk plugged the small communicator into her ear, tapped a number into the phone before pressing little green call button.
After a few rings a man with British accent picked up "Good Morning"
"Its's me" Dusk spoke in a hushed tone.
"Ahhh How's the ramen this morning?"
"Lovely hun, just lovely"
There was a paused silence for the voice questioned in a concerning tone.
"You sure you wanna do this?.."
"No.... But I need to"
"Yeah right...." His tone was disbelieving "Rooftop two?"
"Confirmed."
"Remember you will have eight minutes ONLY.... Call me when your inside.... I hope this is worth it"
"Yeah.. Me too." Nervously she ended the call.

Dusk slid off the stool and put her New Order insignia cap on, dressed in charcoal grey jumpsuit she felt uncomfortable as her heart pounded heavily under her breast. Picking up her large tool bag she made for the doorway and began to make her way over to the second towers large entrance.

Dusk swiped her stolen access card at the front tinted glass doors at 5:08, shift change wasn't due for another hour, which meant there should only be the night skeleton staff on duty. The doors wheezed open to reveal the foyer, it was smaller than she imagined. The entire room was a brightening white- illuminated by a number of halogen downlights giving Dusk the feeling she had just walked into a hospital... Or morgue.
A long desk, a metal detector and two tired looking night guards provided a barrier between the foyer and the elevators she needed to access. She swallowed her nerves and strutted forward with feigned confidence footsteps echoing in the near empty foyer. The New Order security looked up from whatever was keeping their attention on their desk bound minister.
"Mornin' gentleman" Dusk did her best to hide her southern accent as she placed her tool bag on the counter. Keeping her head slightly lowered she tried to avoid her face being indirect line of sight of the many cameras she could hear burring about the rooms ceiling.

The older grey haired guard grunted as his eyes returned to whatever he was watching while the much younger blonde haired guard gave a sleepy half smile "You're in early, I.D please".
Dusk stuck her hand into her pocket retrieving another card and handed it over.
"Yeah well if the night crew stopped breaking the cafeteria coffee machine I could still be in bed" she joked.
The blonde guard chuckled as he typed something into his computer and waited.
He handed back the I.D card and motioned her to the metal detector "I reckon Its the day staff that think their too good to clean it once in a while"
Deliberately she left her tool-bag on the counter as she moved through the detector, not realising she was holding her breath till she spoke again "Ha! So true" she flashed a sweet smile to the man, no boy... He didn't look much older than twenty. Bloody hell they recruit young.
Dusk passed through the detector without an issues, she was halfway turned to the elevator when the the boy called out. He reached up taking her tool bag off the counter, SHIT! He's going to put it through her mind raced thinking of an exit plan if this job went sour so early.
"Your gear!" he smiled passing the bag over to her, thank god for inexperience. "No point setting the detectors off for a bunch of tools"
If he only knew....Her 'tool' bag housed a suppressed nine millimetre with a an extra clip and two hundred grams of cyclotrimethylene-trinitramine.
Dusk blushed coyly as she thanked him and took her bag before turn-facing back to the elevator. Pressing the wall button the doors opened and she stepped in. First and only stop- Thirty Fourth floor.
Dusk redialled the number on her phone.
"Reece... I'm in what's your ETA?"
"I'm in the air, twenty minutes tops"
Timing was going to be critical so she set the timer on her watch for a countdown of fourteen minutes.

Dusk had argued with Amadeus the previous day about the this operation. She didn't understand why he wanted to send her when he had a plethora of scouts with more tactical training but he insisted, saying something sarcastic about her delightful can-do attitude and sassy smile. The plan was relatively simple- Get in, find the mark and get out undetected. So far everything had run smooth as silk.
The elevator doors chimed as they opened into the foyer platform of the
Dusk this time was greeted by three alert and side armed personal- two men and a woman this time. The taller of the two men ushered her forward to the desk where the woman sat. All eyes suspiciously watched her carefully.
"Name and I.D card please" her tone was removed and almost mechanical like.
Dusk removed the lanyard from around her neck handing it over, just like she did earlier.
"Mallory. I'm from maintenance here for room six" Dusk replied flatly.
The woman tapped on the keys "We have no maintenance requests open at the moment"
Time to drop a name "What? You sure? Check again, Lt Michaels mentioned the sink was leaking in room six last night, you know what he's like....he asked me to check it out start of my shift" she huffed
The woman tapped on the keys again "I'm telling you there is no open request, I cannot let you go any further."
Dusk huffed "Seriously, it's gotta be there, Lt Daniel Michaels, ya'll know him- tall skinny man with the mean temper" she looked to her watch, time was disappearing quickly "well he's going to be pissed if I don't get this shit fixed..why not wake him up for the request... Give him a call..... Hell I'll give him a call."
The woman looked a little shocked at Dusk's forwardness as whipped out her phone and began dialling a number.
"Okay, okay" the woman interrupted "Just get him to lodge the request as soon as possible." She waved her on. Dusk pocketed her phone, grabbed her keycard and began to make her way to the stairs only to be blocked by the second security team member. A good few inches taller, he looked down upon her. His thick dark moustache twitched slightly "Mallory is it?"
"That's it's princess, now excuse me" she glared directly at him, stupid thing to do as he got a real good look at her face.
He took a few more moments chewing on his gum before only slightly stepping aside enough for her to descend the stairs to the lower level. He followed closely behind.
"We have a body in six" Moustache called out.
Dusk's gut dropped, that horrible feeling washed over her that she got here too late "What?"
"Six is occupied" he replied.
Dusk tried to keep cool "Is that going to be a problem?"
"Not unless he tries something, they gave him a good work over" he chuckled.
The arrived at room six's door "Guess I'm lucky that you'll be right out side then princess" Dusk swiped her keycard, unlocking the door she entered.

There were muffled voices coming from the outer-end of the doorway. And from the few weeks he had been in the captivity of the New-Order, Marcus would've just set aside the conversations and would've imagined it were officers discussing their next move with himself. He was a high priority within the building, or at least the James he was. There were plans for him, and without the knowledge on whether the Flock were still around fighting or dead in their own homes...was something that terrified him. His own kind of fighters for freedom were almost incognito to his own knowledge, and that meant he was forever past the aid of rescue. There were buzzing outside, a few radio checks going on at his terminal, when something began to shift. The door opened. And through the door came another body, which Marcus could only see through the corner of his eye. He saw a uniform, therefore didn't even bother to look up. His forehead laid still in his hands, as per usual. The study teams and security monitors would constantly check if he were alive, when in reality he was only remaining still and low. He heard the footsteps come closer, stopping a few metres from where he was. Whoever this New-Order personnel was, they were greeted by a mess of slightly bruised arms, marks from where a painful shoulder injury once was and the long haired man. In the corner of the crystal clear room was a glass cylinder cupboard. Inside the shimmering glass was a suit. It was only familiar to Marcus, out of both him and the stranger who walked in. It bared small dents, showing a long-time usage and experience handling. No doubt it was Marcus' seeing as the size of it was roughly peaking the height of the Man's. There was a battle-worn helmet on a rack, a little left to the cupboard, adjacent to the shelf carrying the technician arm piece that fitted nicely onto the suit. Marcus didn't say anything at first. He didn't have anything to say...that was until he was eventually going to find out who was there, about to reintroduce themselves. Eventually he grumbled, knowing the person might be waiting for him to greet them or say something. He spoke, in a low, helpless and broken tone.

"W-what...do you want?"