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HUDSON YARDS

Click. Click. Click. Click. Don knew for a fact he wasn't crazy. Having served he knew many a former brother in arms that lost it after a tour of duty and blew their brains out... or somebody else's if that was their fancy. But he knew he wasn't one of them. The former serviceman felt completely lucid, the flicking of his rifle's select-fire the only real oddity about him. This wasn't some sort of manic episode, this was the call of duty. He didn't remember getting those orders jammed into his head but that didn't matter. Everything around him and the more recent communication with command was a-posteriori proof that he was doing the right thing. It was easy for him really, just dig up the guns and then connect all his armour and gadgets to his carrier rig and backpack. It must have been quite different for more grounded people with families. Yeah, all the people selected for the Division would have had their loved ones know who they were with and would by now be used to them going off to fight. But this wasn't the ordinary serviceman experience. This was a threat at home, rather than overseas. Depending on how long all this shit went on, Don reckoned that this would sooner or later become a liability. Even the most devout of servicemen would have trouble fighting in these stone jungles with little to show for it when their very own families would almost certainly be under some sort of danger. For now there were far more pressing issues though.

For now Donald kept himself in civilian clothing, for now quite sure this was the right idea. Yes, it meant that hypothetical comrades might mistake him for a looter and marauder. But it also meant that he was beneath notice for many people. He had his M4 of course, but the plate carrier and all else was hidden beneath his clothes to make sure he wouldn't be a juicy target for the vast majority of this new world's ne'erdowells. Besides, his M4 was furnished to look like a rather simple civilian AR rather than the high end piece of military equipment that it was. If all the sent orders were right, they'd know it was him coming rather than some random scavenger and wouldn't blow his brains out. Approaching the building Badger put away his rifle and drew his pistol for the tight indoor confines. That said he kept the safety on for now, more or less confident that his fellow Agent would have cleared any threats that the building might have housed, it was simply that a bit of caution never hurt; better safe than sorry, the saying goes. As Donald cleared the rooms and walkways of the building he felt somewhat sickened. The place was ransacked, every single thing that was A) not too heavy to carry away and B) possible to pawn off for a few bucks was gone. As a sort of experiment he opened a cupboard, and he growled faintly as it seemed someone had even taken the stationery. He knew now wasn't the time to dwell on hatred for the scum of the world like some discount vigilante, he had a job to do. Sighing he made his way over to Firefly, nodding respectfully to his counterpart. Don went through the same routine his counterpart had, introducing himself meanwhile. "Its good to see you Agent. I'm Badger. Ready to move?"

---

Badger didn't waste any time following Firefly outside. He winced a few tears from his eyes as the sun momentarily blinded him, but just as quickly as he adjusted to the darker interior he adjusted to the outdoor lighting. Listening to the orders from command Don nodded, taking out his M4 now that they were outside and flicking it to single fire. The announcement that another team being sent to take care of the checkpoint mollified the only concern that Don had, and so he nodded with renewed dedication to this new objective.

With the map Bates pulled out Don knew that the man had a head start on figuring out a path and so he didn't really bother trying to do likewise, instead kneeling down and taking a look at the scene through the optics of his rifle. He hadn't seen anybody on the way here, but he never heard of anybody dying of caution. Dying to people you didn't know were there because you forgot to do a second sweep of a place happened very often, on the other hand. When his counterpart came up with a route Hayes simply nodded and stood up. "I'm easy, and I already had a long rest before I made my way here I'm good to go. Lead the way." he said, gesturing with his left hand.

Donald kept quiet on the way through the highway, and although he wasn't quite expecting what he came upon with his comrade it wasn't particularly surprising either. This line of thought was very quickly interrupted when the distinct report of firearms was heard, and much like his partner the warrior went for cover. Experience from SWAT told the man that most civilian cars were unreliable cover with most rifle and even a good chunk of pistol bullets easily going through their doors and trunks, and so instead a heavier truck was sought out. Peeking out revealed that these men were just police officers with service pistols however, which cars would more or less stop, not to mention the plate carriers of the duo. The rifles of the agents however would more than readily go through any civilian cars, which in addition to the other advantages of the agents made any sort of confrontation a done deal more or less.

These were cops though, and they weren't even SWAT officers. Blasting random people wasn't their duty, however this wasn't the time and the place to be confronting them, and Don started to say "wait" but he was too late. "Fuck." was all he could say, rubbing his forehead wearily. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." he muttered again, the expletives somehow calming. It was rather suspicious that a man in actual military gear was not believed when he said he was military, though. Something was really fishy here and quite frankly Don was suspecting these people were only impersonating law enforcement officers — the only evidence to the contrary was that they used the term "officer" between each other before they knew the SHD Agents were present.

"Hold on, I'll flank them, I'll let you know when I'm in position. Tell me if you think it's going to shit, over." Don communicated, before crouching down and doing the closest thing he could to a run whilst keeping his head below the level of the cars. Ideally he wanted to make it behind the two NYPD Officers but even being at the side to insure he had the drop on them with his rifle would really be enough given it seemed these were the only two present. He just hoped Firefly would be able to diffuse the situation, or at least keep the cops talking long enough for him to be in position to take them out with two quick taps on the trigger. He'd probably aim for their thighs or stomach depending the urgency of the situation, neither shot instantly lethal allowing for a quick questioning of the men but the latter being eventually mortal as blood loss, shock, and other complications soon got to you. Well, at least this was a heroic story he'd be able to tell the grandkids, of how he saved some poor citizen from being executed by rogue police officers in this trying time. With the way things were going Badger reckoned there'd be quite a lot more before things got better though, and he really didn't believe this little act of heroism would pay off when there was a more urgent objective. He'd have to raise his concerns with Bates when they were out of a volatile scenario later.

---

Again there were gunshots, but from the taunt of the woman Badger could readily surmise they hadn't hit his comrade and so he continued moving to his position. However by the sounds of movement it seemed that the following shots were aimed to kill Bates, and he could just about make out the sound of subsonic munitions leaving a suppressed firearm. Well, they were only handguns, but Don still couldn't allow his comrade to come under threat.

Badger nodded at Bates's response, looking about the scene. Only one of the four firearms active just now were silenced and the noise of guns echoed across the area. This in turn presented a danger, several dangers in fact. The buddies of these cops could easily be around some corner and they would not be happy to see two armed men over the corpses of their fellow officers. But even if that wasn't the case, there could be lots of other vultures attracted to the sound. All hell was breaking loose and marauders of all sorts would flock here in hopes of finding some dead to pick apart for valuables.

Having finally made it to the shot policemen Badger first removed the magazine from his M4 and replaced the spent round. Then he would squat down and take their pistols along with their munitions, belts, and vests into his backpack. Even if he didn't need them it was better they came with him rather than end up in the hands of some scavenger. If he couldn't eventually find someone worthwhile to hand over the equipment to then he would just throw them into some sewer or stash them with some trash where they wouldn't be found. It might of course seem somewhat ghoulish to already start looting the woman when she was still alive, but Badger didn't particularly care. The country was fucking collapsing, there were more important things to be thinking about than some sensibilities right now.

The shot woman was clearly a real cop according to a cursory examination... well, a badge and other ID could be faked and while it was unlikely the consideration should still be on the table, and examining the friend of Officer McKinney would likely reveal more or less the same as with her, although two badges would certainly be harder to fake than one. The short interrogation that happened did confuse the Agent somewhat. While the woman's idea of cleansing the city eerily mirrored his own, he wasn't sure if he could really consider himself akin to the officer. The Agent couldn't really believe what he was hearing, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to. With the bloodloss she'd be undergoing there were only moments left, and Badger shook her a little to keep her from slipping into unconsciousness.

"What do you mean? Did these people spread the disease intentionally?" he demanded, the thought that they might have very well made it not even crossing his mind; he made sure he kept his voice down in case somebody was already closing in on the position of the duo. Regardless of exactly what her explanation was, Badger would look quizzically to Firefly, the fact he wasn't sure the woman's story should be believed all over the face.

Then it hit him. "Firefly. The civilian. Where is he?" He stood up, flicking his assault rifle to fully automatic. If the woman was in fact telling the truth then they had to know where the arrested citizen was and apprehend him as fast as possible. If they didn't, then the duo would be responsible for a very, very dangerous man escaping justice. Though he made sure not to show it, a soft panic started to set into the Agent.

---

Figuratively. Fucking figuratively. This is what Marines meant when they said Army eats crayons. He had fallen into the stereotype of a grunt that had shooting as his only ability and fell for such nonsense. The Agent was angry as all hell, though his face didn't twitch the slightest amount to reflect this.

The man raised his rifle, thoughtfully deciding that this creature wasn't worth a bullet and that all the suffering of her last moments would be more than deserved. Once more the woman's speech seemed to be ever so similar to Don's own beliefs regarding criminality, but deep down he also knew that there was a fine line between himself and the officer. Namely, there was the fact of those he likewise considered "degenerates" would be rather few that the woman and her comrades did. Still, this moment was sobering. Badger made sure he'd keep this event at the back of his mind so that he wouldn't stoop to the levels of Ms. McKinney.

What the woman said was not very informative to be frank, at most it revealed there was a good deal more rogue policemen about the city which was a natural following from the fact that already two were corrupt enough to shoot innocents.

Just as these thoughts ran through the head of the soldier there was soon the sound of more police coming to the scene, clearly ready to kill after having been attracted to the scene by the sound of gunfire. The encounter with the officer still kept a seething hatred in the heart of Badger, and he wanted to fight these bastards; after all, they were just coppers with soft armour and pistols. But he knew he couldn't. There was no time to waste, and if he did stand and fight then he'd be a hyppocrite given how recently he considered chastising his partner for even bothering with this fiasco when there was a more urgent task at hand.

Thus the man nodded in concurrence, giving the wounded police officer a harsh kick on the head to make sure she wouldn't be able to recount to her comrades where the two agents had gone. With that done he ran over to Bates with rifle in hand. Well, now was a better time than any he supposed. "We shouldn't have done that, playing hero. There's a job we had to do, saving a single person - especially when they just get shot right afterwards - isn't worth it when completing our current objective might save a lot more." The whispered words were extremely utilitarian, but Badger meant them wholeheartedly and (although admittedly he had never run into such a situation) he would not let personal feelings get in the way of his duty; even if that civilian was from his family he would have known that the right thing to do was think of the greater good.

---

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // JAMES FARLEY POST OFFICE

In the tunnel Badger was fairly relaxed, for with a flashlight on him the threat of ambushes was minimal and it was simply a relaxing walk. But the moment the light of day struck the man he became tense, alert. This was the modern day Vietnam or Afghanistan; you were surrounded by civilians but just because they didn't wear uniforms that didn't mean they were non-combatants. To make it worse, the power tripping fucks of the police were now just another gang. Except this gang had experience shooting, and they carried high end weapons rather than zip-guns of all sorts. The people enjoying some fresh air entertainment? Those could easily have been snipers ready to end either agent's life from afar.

The caution about his surroundings seemed to prove itself to be well founded only moments later when the sounds of gunfire broke out. From the sheer amount of it, he decided it was wise to flick the select-fire of his rifle to full auto. The enemy came into view quickly and by God there were a lot of them. They had helmets, vests and automatic carbines. But they had the misfortune in context of being law enforcement, which would mean that while their helmets and vests would be rated for pistols, they weren't rated for rifle rounds and thus both 5,56 and 5,7 would easily chew through the false sense of security their soldier-boy outfits might give them.

Running for cover Badger didn't make a noise. But Firefly said that they had to get their attention, which made the man groan faintly. He would have preferred to use the fact they were in a good position to crossfire to wipe out these traitors in one go, but he supposed this time a more humanitarian approach was technically more important.

Thus, he stood up with his ballistic shield and assault rifle, spraying his entire magazine towards the cops to suppress them and catch their attention. With that he dropped the weapon, getting his entire body behind the shield. He knew some less experienced or simply more gung-ho agents tried to shoot with a pistol while holding one but Badger considered them stupid. What was the point of a shield if you were going to nevertheless expose a chunk of yourself so visibly to overwhelming firepower? Thus instead he approached the foe calmly, making sure his entire body was always behind the shield, ready to throw a sticky bomb come the moment he was close enough to do so accurately.

The enemy was of course moving in to outflank him, they weren't stupid enough to just waste ammo trying to break the shield with volume of fire. But the Agent hoped his action would be enough to catch the attention of the renegades just long enough for Firefly and the other JTF warriors to either reposition and mount a counterattack or to at the very least evacuate.

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // JAMES FARLEY POST OFFICE

Between the crossfire, the explosives lobbed at them, and the disadvantage of the attacker the rogue police were overwhelmed and forced to retreat. In a way it was humourous how some gave themselves up such that their comrades would be able to escape. They had enough of a sense of heroism to sacrifice themselves for their friends, but not enough to actually continue to protect and to serve.

Though Badger didn't give chase to the fleeing renegades he made sure to keep on firing at them as they pulled out in an effort to make sure as few of them as possible got away, their cowardice and treachery not left unpunished... of course there was also the pragmatic side of the matter, wherein by eliminating these men he would make the efforts of bringing peace and order back into the city much easier.

Having made sure the foe was fully routed, Badger reloaded all his weapons and flicked them to safety before putting them away. Approaching the defenders with his counterpart, Badger examined the scene while the others spoke. Following Bates into the depths of the building the picture painted was not a very pretty one. If this was what remained of people loyal to the government then hope - valuable as it could be - was forlorn.

When Romero told the Doctor to leave rather than finish tending to her Badger raised an eyebrow, though he didn't say anything. In his opinion it was a shitty little display of one's ego's hopes at making an image of a badass that had a good chance of repercussions be it an infection or undue bloodloss. Not being a man of very many words Don didn't mind having Firefly introduce Badger for himself but he supposed the woman had to hear it from himself to help make sure she could trust the duo before herself.

"Agent Donald Hayes, ma'am." He said, saluting with the aim of a little sycophantry so they could get the introductions over with faster.

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // JAMES FARLEY POST OFFICE

---

"Likewise, Ma'am." Badger replied, lowering his saluting hand. He wasn't a particularly big sports fan, unless one considered chess as such which his past comrades didn't. This meant he had not in the past had much time spent around the Madison Square Garden, so he had little idea what he might be getting into there (especially with recent changes). Still, duty was duty and if he'd be sent into the depths of hell he'd only ask for a spare magazine.

Nodding as the assignment was made clear to them, Badger raised an eyebrow as the woman expressed her suffering. He very, very much wanted to make a snarky comment about pretending to be hot shit when you have a wound but he restrained himself. Saluting again to the woman he stepped out, letting Firefly get through the bullshit of talking to brass. Leaning on a wall he filed his nails as he waited for his comrade to come out, believing the world having fallen to anarchy was not an excuse for being poorly groomed.

Putting away his little vanity objects he once more unslung his rifle and spoke while moving to save time. "I say we get up on the rooftops in the area first. See what we're getting into. Scavengers might have already picked everything clean, and if not there's a good chance we won't be the only ones looking for the fuel. Could easily be a rat's nest of some sort, ambushes and traps at every corner."

The fuel was needed urgently otherwise they wouldn't ask of it. But if they barged in trying to get it as fast as possible they'd die and not get the fuel anyway so as far as Don saw there really wasn't a reason to rush things, one of the stories of Aesop coming to mind now. The only difference was that the hare would step on a landmine or get its throat cut by someone in an alley whereas the tortoise would make it to the end of the race on a pile of ne'erdowells' corpses. Badger of course saw himself as the tortoise, not fancying bullets in himself. "Of course, once we get an idea of what we're up against we should act as fast as possible, high speed and low drag, in and out, push any bastards we come up against as hard as possible and force them off of what's ours."

---

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // JAMES FARLEY POST OFFICE

---

Walking along Badger nodded to the soldier who approached them. "Thanks for the heads up." He said, even if he wasn't particularly thankful. "Gotcha."

Following Bates close behind, Badger kept low in a semi-crouch. They were still close to what one could consider safety, but considering that every step brought the team further and further away from it he felt that a little bit of caution now would be justified, especially if later it would pave the ground for some aggression.

Though he hadn't been here before, Don knew this place was supposed to be loud. There was supposed to be the cheering of crowds and the snickering of bookies, there were supposed to be announcements and vendors making their rounds. But this ghost-town? Well... Though not exactly afraid, the Agent certainly was unnerved.

As there was blood on the door to the security room it seemed that the Agent's suspicions of this place being a rat's nest were getting more and more proofs. Nodding as Firefly prepared to breach the room Badger likewise pushed the imaginary foe within, but it turned out the place was uninhabited.

"I don't know." Agent Hayes replied to his partner's question, deciding to search the bodies of the police officers for anything of interest. "But I don't want to stick around for too long to end up just like these two pricks. Let's just make a quick note of this and move on. Time is short, and we need that fuel now."

---

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // JAMES FARLEY POST OFFICE

---

As they went further through the building the fact the people who had shot the police officers found it necessary to go for the head like the first ones the Agents had seen, Badger at least felt a little more confident for it might suggest they lacked long-rifles to penetrate the body armour of the Agents. Of course that was probably wishful thinking and whoever had done this massacre was probably just either A) saving bullets or B) making absolute sure that their opponents were dead. The former of the two options meant that the stinginess of the opponent could be levered against them, whilst the latter would insure that if one of the Agents got taken out of action then they wouldn't recover, for this foe would make sure to execute them as they had the now dead men at their feet.

---

Badger stood impassively as Firefly spoke, nodding to his counterpart as he finished. To him it seemed that the man was speaking this warning as much for himself as for Don who knew he didn't really need it. He was well aware he was a cold utilitarian bastard; the only thing he would consider offering the souls that would be there might be a bullet of mercy, but even that was likely out of the question given that with all the factories closed down the ammunition the agents had was to be rationed.

They went through the scene, and though it was a harsh sight the Agent calmly did his duty looking side to side making sure no threats were hidden between the pictures of misery. Eventually they made it to the elevator, Don frankly quite surprised it was still operational given the state of disrepair of everything else. In fact, he was rather suspicious. "Weird that the elevator's working, when everything else is so fucked." Of course given the security room was still functional it wasn't that much a surprise, but still something to think about.

When the topic of the men being sent here was broached, something like a smile finally went on Badger's lips. "From how it sounded I was certain the answer is 'C: All of the above.' even as they were briefing us. They simply couldn't know exactly what is going on here, but they likely guessed its a rat-trap with ninety-nine percent efficiency, money back guaranteed. Chances one of us are going to be part of a mortality statistic are pretty high I think, but I don't think that's the fault of the pricks that sent us here. Look around, there's no more coffee runs to be done, everything is a suicide mission, and amongst them this isn't that bad. I think a bullet to the brains is nicer than having some dipshit use a baseball bat to turn my ribs into aspic."

---

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // MADISON SQUARE FIELD HOSPITAL

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Badger chuckled, giving a lovetap to his comrade in the relative security of the moment. "Bullets' not so scary when you know its coming. The Japanese thought it is the ones who go into battle hoping to die that will live, the rest will perish. I'm not a teen virgin to be obsessed with samurai but I think there's value in that."

It would have become by now clear to Firefly that Badger (rather appropriately) considered himself as a hard bastard but he nevertheless failed to restrain a retch as the smell hit him. He was a warrior not a coroner, and though these deaths were fairly recent they nevertheless had been about now to accumulate a stench.

After a moment the Agent managed to brace himself however, and he followed suit. The man hit the deck as gunfire erupted against the duo and was about to end the life of their assailant before his comrade's voice rang out. Keeping his firearm trained upon the gunman Badger eventually relaxed as it seemed Firefly was able to talk the person down, and eventually he stood up looking about. A thought came over the man that he should be documenting this. After all, nobody else as and all that was happening couldn't just be forgotten. Though he considered himself to not be ghoulish enough to take photos while a man was dying before his eyes, Badger nevertheless took his phone from his pocket to make sure there was enough charge on it that some pictures could be taken; the history books of centuries later would have high-res photographs oh yes.

But there were more urgent matters to attend to. Thus Don turned to the Doctor and lowered his mask a little out of deference, before asking quite bluntly: "Fuel. Where is it?"

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