Tahlia Harris
Isla Langosta / Lobster Island, Colombia
Firestarter, Twisted Firestarter
The explosions below were making it clear that Boomer was taking no prisoners, and with his rifle and club, he wasn't going to leave any scalp untouched.
"Noted. Not with that implement, I'm not. Fucking hellfire, Boomer." Tahlia's voice carried a certain sternity to it, yet watching what he was doing, she was rather in shock. It was time to change magazines, on that note, and well, put her eye to the scope again, knowing that the body count he was collecting was now making her sniper fire seem almost anonymous. Mateo must have been straight up a ghost now, and well, she didn't want to know how much she was turning Thiago inside out.
"They're dropping back, but with any sense, there'll be another layer. Let me dent their confidence a little." Tahlia called to Boomer on the comms, loading a new magazine in, this time with something a bit heavier hitting.
Back on the scope, and well, the pyro was right where she needed him. Dragged out of cover, and trying to torch Chuck, well, at the least making his life inconvenient. Trying, and no doubt the flames would be sticky, it wasn't as much of a straight up threat as some of the other troops firing RPGs wildly around him, Tahlia taking out the round in the chamber with a normal round and instead, loading a much heavier, armour-piercing bullet inside from the magazine loaded, one that would certainly get more penetration on.
"Right....let's see.....windage, range....there." Tahlia whispered to herself, and picking him up, adjusted her sighting, noting the composition of the armour. No sniper round she had was getting through him, but oh, a heavy like that should really have known better. You armoured your tanks the same, even Laura knew that, or else your big arse was getting exploded. And with a gentle pull on the trigger, she watched him move and stomp closer, putting fire on Chuck, yet right as he was stationary, being right where she needed him. The round flew and with a loud plink, slapped into the bottom of the flamethrower tank, ricocheting before the true extent was revealed.
The pyro's tank ruptured, and with fuel pouring, it didn't take much for it to light due to the volatile compound mixing with his ignition substance, and suddenly, the guy didn't so much explode as well....get turned into a missile. The flamethrower basically turned into a rocket, and sent him flying into the building he had walked into, and with a loud bang, set off a huge explosion, toasting him and everyone in it alive.
"Aw fucking yeah! Eat shit, cunt! Hope you liked that, Boomer!" Tahlia called into the comms, the excitement coming through, as she adjusted her rifle again, pulling the bolt, a little high on being back in the field, and well, back to work, realising her inner voice had come out.
"Sorry about that. Right. Where were we? Okay, that might help you a bit. Watch for RPGs, they're fortified inside too from the looks from it, but you'll have a little less resistance now. Go inside and get what we need, Spectre is yours. The exos will be able to punch you harder, so make sure you clamp them. However you do that, I will leave that creative part to you. Actually, let me bring you some help on the flank. It'll make your extraction quicker, and if I'm not mistaken....shit, yeah we got more choppers inbound. " Tahlia called out.
"Tiny Nord, you on station? We might need some help on the northern side of the base, where Boomer is moving in. I know, the boat isn't fun, but we haven't exactly got clear airspace. Bring the patrol boat in close, they won't see you coming and hit the flank when you're ready. I think we might be about to make a hell of a lot more heat. I got visual on helis in the far horizon, likely carrying heavy munitions. They do not want to give up Spectre easy..." Tahlia called, knowing that Tiny Nord was on hand for extraction - and while he wouldn't have expected to be getting his hands dirty, the armoured American counterpart to Boomer would certainly be keen to blow shit up. Bringing in more high-calibre support would help, and given the versatility of Tiny Nord's platform, anti-air and anti anyone was always on the cards.
"Right, bear with, Boomer. I need to relocate to get a better shot."
------
Skye Rosalind Lyons
Observatorio Cruz del Sur, Torres del Paine, Patagonia, Chile
With Sam supporting Freya down, Skye had the chance to secure the entry point, and well, tidy up the mess of bodies they'd been making. It was a quiet shift, but once they got inside, it would be a lot busier- after all, out here they were surrounded by snow white-topped granite mountains and it was a light dusting that was below feet here in the concrete, so nobody was out here in the pitch black, given they didn't expect trouble. Not the kind that would come in without a trace.
"Negative, Chaos, move to me. Frigga, cover our backs. It shouldn't be far up to me." Skye looked across, the dark blue paint on her face contrasting her burning red hair, professional yet well, a Pict through and through. As much as there was a human being behind those eyes, she looked like someone else, someone that had already pulled plenty of blood on her hands. And she would get plenty more. They had a job to do, and not much time to spare. Skye certainly felt like they were on the clock, and right now, they'd need to get in and out.
Looking across to Sam, Skye tilted her NVGs up for a moment, the Scot looking across intently to Sam, and her visored helmet.
"Alright. I'll stay on point. We might need your hacking skills in a moment, Chaos." Skye added, as she opened the door with a solid clack, moving inside and through the concrete walls, rifle raised, intent and sweeping, following the signage and covering the corners as best as she could within the lit-up environs inside.
Moving through the corridor, Skye moved slow on the approach to the observatory galley itself.
"Okay. Few inside. Slow and smooth, no rush." Skye retorted, hearing voices on the other end, and with it, gently pushing the door open, the telescope in a cradle above with its own cut-out with corridors below, filled with equipment and workbenches, like a library meeting a highly scientific laboratory. Moving slow, Skye readied up, keeping the rifle at a point position, as she picked out the first two on the walkway next to the telescope itself, clattering rounds into them as the others reacted, Skye letting Sam take on the other two closer to the actual optic itself, as Skye got to work on the far end of the room. They'd have a limited time to sort this before they got onto their communications, but given the work they'd done outside, they would have enough.
Moving around the corner, the man used his Glock to fire a couple rounds back, as Skye used his trace to get him out of position, and shot a couple rounds into his legs, baring his head and slapping another round in. With the room clear, Skye called it into the comms, reloading her magazine as she did so.
"Sound seems to contain well in these walls. But this is getting bloody. More of them awake than I liked. Scientists are up, but there's barely any." Skye called, giving the ping for the team to regroup at the end of the room, this time, one away from the specific one that Skye really wanted. Control Room.
Arriving on the door of that room following a short corridor, it was almost like a NASA-like arrangement, quiet for the night with a handful of technicians in the glass-adorned office. A singular guard in there visible through the glass window in the wooden doorframe. And with it, Skye nodded to Sam, as she moved inside and pushed first, and with barely a flinch, slotted the man with a headshot with the MCX tilted on her shoulder, splatting him into the floor as the techs yelled, Skye filling the void first with her booming voice.
"Freeze! Hands on your head, or you get a bullet, comprendo?" Skye yelled, rifle raised, the two technicians doing as asked, as Skye rushed in, the speed she had from the exo just adding that extra something to make her look very much not like the other man she'd just taken out.
"We're not here to hurt you. Just don't do anything stupid, answer my questions, and you might survive. Alright?" Skye called to one, switching into Spanish for the rest of the conversation, accented yet the one tech nodding, in absolute shit-filling fear at the look of Skye towering over her, rifle in hand, looking somewhat inhuman.
"Shit, ok! What do you want? Please, we're just working on the satellites, we have nothing to do with her mercenaries, please!"
"Exactly, so you can do some work. The Project Mercury satellite network. Can you take the data off it, and download it? And think about what I said earlier, no time for wrong answers. Because we can do it the hard way."
"It's not possible. Please, I beg! It's coded in a quantum-encrypted key for removals from the base station, there's no way, no way! We're just making sure it stays in orbit, and sending data....don't shoot, please!"
"Well, shit. Plan B then. I need you to drop the satellite. Right here, right now. There's a valley down there between us and the town, put it there. I know you can do it, it's reinforced. Quantum key or not, direct entry will always work." Skye simply retorted, watching as suddenly, the other technician raised his voice, concerned and realising that this wasn't going to end well for either if they did as the Scottish lady said.
"No....you don't understand, they'll....they'll kill us anyway. And if it hits...it'll....well, it'll be a big boom." The tech said to the other, as Skye lurched in closer between them, the slight whine of her exo and her mere look one of absolute, fire-starting rage, given how she was between the two.
"I can make it look convincing you had a gun to your head. Your chances are better than us just killing you both and figuring it out." Skye added, leaving silence for a few seconds, letting them soak this up, at least process that she was in their language, and well, certainly making a point of it.
"Okay, okay. I can do that. We can take it down. Please, I have kids, I don't want to die..."
"So do all the people you're hurting with this. You might yet live." With that, Skye looked across knowing he was back at work, to Sam and the others, headed over to the man on the ground. Ripping his headset off, Skye put ear to it, and heard the various chatter. They were right now finding bodies, and well, they had zero idea of what the hell was going on. They were being ripped apart by ghosts clearly, and the alarm would soon follow once that happened.
"Well, that was fun while it lasted. Chaos, get to disabling the anti-air system here. I think we may need to get ready to loud. Frigga, there's a QRF headed our way. Find somewhere quiet, and rip them a new one, would you? I'll leave your surprise to you. Meantime, I'll make sure we get our satellite down with these two. Once we're done, we'll need to chase it and get to it before they do. Which means that ATV, and those motorcross bikes in Hawk's hold might come in handy for us." Skye added, giving instruction to the other two, knowing shit was going to hit the fan soonish.
"We may need some help, mind." Skye called, as she put hand to ear, knowing that now they may as well as the fact that they were seconds from an alarm.
"Hawk, this is Queen, we're going to need support within ten minutes. Prep the VTOL for fire support, and I'm going to fire a GPS marker for where we might need some transportation once we're outside."
Somewhere in Geneva, Switzerland
The white-haired older man sat with a set of aviator glasses on, the quiet evening cafe in Geneva as cosy as it could be- and sitting upstairs in the quiet, empty room, outside the Jet d'Eau, it was as unassuming it could be. Set out for him, and his partner to meet, and discretion even here was helpful. But then again, when you may have been public enemy number one, but looked like every other banker in this city, that just came easy. It felt strange to be sitting opposite to the person he wanted to see- the redhead herself, Lynx. Quite the figure, from what he had read. And how remarkable it was to have her on board.
"I almost didn't think I'd get this meeting." He spoke with a cold unassuming tone, it must have been Scandinavian in origin, but it felt so international, it almost dissolved anonymously.
"Neither did I, Christian. But I guess we had some mutual friends, and some mutual views." Lynx responded, the grey-shirt, jeans wearing counterpart at the table as stoic as ever, her charm back on as usual, a grin hiding a calculated, firm look behind the woman that sat there, a demeanour that almost looked steely past and through the sunglasses he wore.
"Yes, indeed. I'm glad you view things similarly. Tell me, what do you see, when it comes to our work? What is it that you're looking at the most?" He asked, raising his sunglasses for just a second, revealing his bloodshot eyes.
"World's on fire, and well, some preparation wouldn't go amiss. That is you lot seem to offer. So I thought it may as well be worth putting myself on your side. I did my homework. I know what you are, what you want, who you're made of. Some I don't agree with, but that's never the point when you need to make change."
"Agreed. I assume it's not money you want, with the way you talk?"
"Not really. You don't need someone with money to change things. Just the key and a place in what's next. Your organisation wants change and someone to do it with. So do I, and I can offer you that. I'll personally make your wildest dreams happen, and anyway, you need someone like me who can make a template. Get things done where money can't buy talent. You need an investor with capital at risk in this, someone who is willing to die to make a world they might not live in. I expect some parity for that, not like one of your mercenaries, but as someone who has done, well, what you know I'm capable of."
"And you realise that the directors will not like this, don't you?"
"I'll give them what they want within two years. They'll be safe and sound. Comfy even. I expect you don't trust me. Just give me what I need and you will in time."
"I trust you. They won't."
"Well, there is one aspect you might want to see. Maybe it will convince them a little more. You know little about me. But I'll show you who you really do want to know about." She replied, and taking it out from her jean pocket, rather than Christian being the one to do it, it was Lynx, the hand revealing the image, and then, placing it onto the table.
The picture was pushed across the table, the Polaroid displaying a red-haired operative in an exoskeleton in a blurry CCTV image, that white-haired man could see as nigh identical to Lynx in front of her.
"So how is it you are you doing two jobs at once these days? I thought you just did work for SIS? A spook, right?" The question was clear, his eyebrows raised, given the situation, and well, how impossible this had to be. Lynx's look turned to a grin, as she leaned in forwards, pushing her cup of coffee aside, very much aware this one, oh, this would get him right away.
"Well...if I told you how, I'd have to kill you. She does seem awfully similar to me."
"Heh, well, I'll be damned. Well. Lynx, whoever you are. You may be quite useful yet."
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