SleepyWrites
PrinceAlexus
Festive
Cyrania
Izurich
Pilatus
Days
MrSkimobile
FourtyTwoShimura
With a nod, and barely any sound. The ex-yakuza stepped off to the right and in a simple motion almost seemed to vanish. Not in the way Howard does or the rest of their inflitrators. But just surging forward. Running full tilt bent at the waist. You might call it a "Naruto-run" as he weaves his way forward. Past desks, and doors. And before the enemy can open fire he slips into the room, breaking line of sight.
The enemy can be heard laughing as the crazy guy with the sword just ran off.
Everyone in Raven knows much better. Ban Kingo affects the look of a Samurai. But that's actually very untrue. He perfers to often call himself a Yakuza Ronin. A Criminal Fallen Samurai. While a full on Samurai would shudder at the idea of doing something so dishonorable as attack from the back or side. Ban Shimura Kingo does not shy from doing such a deed.
He runs along a side passage. Darting from cover to cover as a few of the enemy make half hearted pot shots his way. Thinking he's not a problem. He's brought a sword to a gun fight. Until one of them loses sight completely. And gets a surprise, as a super shop blade punch through what he thought was a concrete support wall beside him and takes him in the throat. He coughs, the gorget of his combat harness barely stopping the blade. With a spurt of red arterial blood the blade slides back through the wall, and a moment later, four quick slashes opens a hole in the pillar, wide enough for Shimura to dive through and start making a nuisance of himself. Putting himself among the enemy. His blade flashing, once, twice, thrice. And two of the enemy fall.Third, fourth and fifth members of the squad he just made 40% less effective watch as the two bodies drop missing limbs.
Old samurai anime show spurts of blood often in moments like this, but it's like the edge of that wicked blade didn't give the blood vessels time to act. Shimura looks up his Kabuki paint on display as he smiles, "Motto!" He cries as he surges forward to attack again.
Lasagna
Sat quietly, dead still, no evidence at all that he was even there. Until word came down about the IFVs. And even then as he gets up and whispers into the comms line, "Lasagna displacing." A shuffle and he's on his feet, dropping the magazine of infantry grade ammo, and slotting it into a pouch on his harness for later use perhaps. Digging into his pouches, pulling free on of the few Armor Piercing Anti Material magazines he brought with him. As he nears another shooting point he's briefly visible to Dollface down below. Outlined against a dark bit of stone. But a second later he's gone. Finding a new firing position.
Overlooking the approach. He tucks himself into a new spot. Anyone saw him now it'd be painful to think the older soldier could tuck into a small space he is, but the firing spot is near invisible and gives him a great spot to fire from. He eases the Lynx's muzzle out, and takes a sight, waiting. He'd only have a short time to really make these shots count. And the targets would be small. He sniffed then whispers, "Dollface, Lasagna, I shall attempt to take out their Optics as best I can in the first moments once I see them. It it that much harder for them. You won't have long before they get to using other means of seeing. After that I'll work to disable other external systems. Use the time as best you can."
He took a deep breath.
The Hunter has new quarry. New Prey.
The first of the Pandur's appeared racing towards the stricken base. Lasagna sighted in. And it was simple as a movement of his finger.
The intel. officer in the first Pandur was calling out potential targets. When something flashed on his screen. And the camera on the outside of the Pandur exploded. The heavy round hitting what they thought was uparmored plastic. But it came apart and the camera destroyed. Other Camera installations on the Pandur were hit next. Blinding the machine as it rolled to a stunned stop.
The Prey has been stopped.
A dark tanned man grins, all tooth and tight skin. A look that wouldn't look off on the face of a big mountain cat.
