From The Ashes

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Furasian

That one other guy from that other joint
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Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
((Sorry guys for this was rushed. I hope it is an alright starter!))

The time claimed the sun was high up the sky, shining it's rays that would bring a bright day... Yet it's rays shined on a dark, post apocalyptic world that was leaving it's nuclear winter, unbeknownst to it's inhabitants. Despite the gray, merciless life of the metro, there is still a flare, one that was bright enough to show the way. That flare we know as hope, hope that the younger ones will be able to live the ways of the old world once more. Unfortunately, human kind has not learned from it's mistakes yet, and war comes yet again on top of all the nightmares they already live in.

---

L'efant Plaza

The sizable station was rather bustling with metro dwellers like usual. People both normal or abnormal walked the tracks or the platform where makeshift shelters were built either for trade or to establish a more permanent home. Many people were not from the station though, and they could be spotted out by the west gate where a line of carts and man made transportation started building up. At the end of the line, a couple armed men stood at the gate, refusing to let anyone through. One of them was the center of attention it seemed, a ranger whose token he wore around his neck read the name 'Wilson Fillmoore'

"Why are you not letting us through? Can't you see we need to get to the metro center?!" One of the more impatient refugees exclaimed, one who was fleeing the war. "Some of my family was in that group that went in! What do you care if I get killed?!" He wasn't the only one, but the only thing stopping him was the furred individual's word and the station militia who had guns ready for the worst.

"Like I said.." Wilson replied, trying his best to keep his serene, professional tone. "There is a bandit blockade down the line. The sooner I can ensure nobody will move down towards the Smithsonian station the sooner I can deal with the situation myself." He said it with confidence, and like a ranger he had the mind to follow his word, but even he knew he couldn't take on a station of god knows what alone... He didn't even know how many guys with guns were down there.

"They could be selling those people off to slave traders right now! Just move you ignorant animal and let us protect our own!" With that the angered man stormed into the crowd, and those who were observing started speaking among each other in hushed whispers. Tensions were starting to rise, and this crowd will ultimately want to break through, like cattle breaking past a fence to run into a herd of wolves.
 
Much of the urban wasteland that was DC lay silent in the mid day sun. Due to the hostility of the surface, from mutants to radiation storms, not many had ventured out, or even set up a outpost of any kind. Thus, silent the landscape remained with the occasional caw of a crow or groan of metal breaking the eerie silence. Suddenly, a strange sound began to echo over the land, one that hadn't been heard in years. The sound of the air being chopped, a mechanical growling, wind blowing.....


Walter sat in the seat near the lowered ramp of the V-22 Osprey he road in. In front of him was his handler. He stared out of the aircraft as it flew through the gray sky. His handler tapped him to get his attention.

"Alright, enough day dreaming. We need to go over the briefing one more time. I just got an update from command."

"Alright, shoot." Walter's voice had a slight mechanical tone to it due to his full face mask.

"We will be inserting you at drop point Echo instead of Delta, near station "Congress Heights" and "Anacostia". According to some new information dug up back at base, that's were a specific server hub is... or was... depending on the situation. Intel in that area needs to be updated anyway since we've been mostly focusing our search near the governmental districts. The stations their are reportedly abandon, but like I said, the intel of the area is old, so stay alert. In the northwest building, you'll find your safe house/op center. Once again, it hasn't bee-"

"I get it David, move on."

"Ahem, right. So your main objective, recover whatever data is left in the server room. Secondary objectives are reconnaissance and other data grabs where you can. We need to figure out what's going on in the area. Be sure to check in every three days, full deployment however should only last a month before you're pulled out, so an easy work day to say the least. Remember standard procedure..... aaaand that's all I got for you Lieutenant."

"Seems simple enough."

"If it were so easy am I right?"

The V-22 tilted its rotors up as the VTOL aircraft entered hover mode over what used to be an intersection. Now it was a cold flat area of pavement, rubble, and snow. Dust and wind blew up around the aircraft from the powerful forces as Walter repelled down from the V-22. He gave the craft a thumbs up then immediately took cover and scanned the LZ as the aircraft flew away. All alone again, but the silence was something he enjoyed. A quick glanced with thermals revealed that no human had seen him and most of the wildlife was spooked from the VTOL. Sighing, he stood up and began to pick his way through the rubble to a ruined residential building near one of the stations. Inside was a secretly fortified safe house in one of the rooms with a system of motion trackers set up through the building. Typing in the keypad, he unlocked the door to the hidden away room. It had been a simple large bedroom, but now a center operating center for those who knew about it. The windows were covered, but had one slit for observing the entrance to near by Anacostia. Though it seemed fairly pointless, simply because the station wasn't inhabited like some of the other major ones.

Walter sat down at a small desk and began to plan his patrol of the surface.
 
~L'efant Plaza~

Herds of people of all creeds, origins, and races mixed and merged, disgruntled once again at reports of bandits and scum raiding within these dark, damp tunnels. In the midst of the people, a petite form shifted and scooted along, wearing clothes clearly too large for him and a gas mask dangling from his neck. Scarlet eyes of both innocence and corruption glanced, hearing one of the men rave to a ranger about getting to the center of the station. For many, it was truly devastating, being separated from their family and having little word in the matter. After all, the man with the gun often is the man not to be trifled with.

Ty, more often than not, broke that exception.

Using his time wisely, knowing the majority of those in L'efant would be curious to see the predicament occurring, the child quietly skulked away. It was obvious that Tyler was much more than a cute, round face, and that he, like others, had been forced to crime in order to sustain himself. Checking to see if the coast was clear, the son of the infamous Harrington Merchants began to quietly scoop whatever supplies he could find use for. Bread for consumption, bullets for trading, and even a few more air filters.

Tightening his gaze a bit, stealthily mixing in with the crowds, Tyler hastily darted towards one of the improve shacks thrown together with a mixture of sheet metal, iron bars, and lead piping. Climbing onto the roof of the shack, overlooking the plaza briefly, Tyler kept climbing shack onto shack, the overall plaza akin to slums of Rio, although, a bit more metallic in nature. Aiming to make his escape through a vent, Tyler quietly kept his escape, knowing this was a perfect chance to left the plaza and make a bolt towards another for the night.
 
L'Enfant Plaza

Eddie walks among the bustling crowd, whispers of bandits and worry somewhat making its way into his head. The people all looked like good, American citizens that needed that help. Obviously it was the Ranger at the other end refusing something that was the problem. It was then made up in his mind to approach the Ranger, and demand that he cease all disturbances.

Readjusting his rifle strap, he pushes his way though the crowd, about to start a confrontation with the well situated and readily armed Ranger before another crowd member laments on the subject of a blockade. As far as Eddie could remember, blockades either meant ships or police cars, but at the end of the day it mean that somebody, somewhere was inhibiting American freedom!

He immediately turns to face the man, a refugee likely trying to escape the conflict down the tunnel.
"Whut'n's this ahm hearin' bout that blockade y'all're talkin' bout?"

The man stands there, stunned at Eddie's remarkably loose grip on the English language. He manages to form some words.
"Yes, a blockade. Bandits, damn them. They've taken the tunnel up ahead and nobody can get through."

Eddie squints behind his glinting sunglasses, contemplating his next move.
"An' are y'all tryin'a git through?"

"Yes."

"Is them bandits no-good un-American sons of bitches?"

The man pauses. "I guess..."

Eddie's fearsome visage snaps into a gleeful grin and he pulls his rifle into his hands.
"Well, hoo wee! Cook my pants and call me a tailor, we got bandits t'kill!"

The refugee simply slinks his way back into the crowd and away from the maniac with a gun.
 
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Trotzen had been quietly tagging along with Wilson, occasionally glancing over his shoulders, as if paranoid. His front paws twitched back and forth, and were slightly raised in front of him. His eyes were bloodshot, and his muscles were tense. It was pretty normal body language for Trotzen to have.

"W-Wilson..." He would softly say, repeating himself every few seconds. However, he was far too quiet to be heard in this crowd.
 
A cold breeze blew down from the ruins of building tops, the breeze carried itself down to the ground where it flowed over the ruined streets, over rubble, and broken down cars until it caught a page from the remains of a newspaper in it's cold grasp. The page was swept up by the breeze and flowed with it down the various streets of ruined dc. For about ten minutes the page flowed through the air before it rounded the corner of a building only to fly into the face of a person holding a mug in his left hand, completely blocking the persons vision.

"what's this?"

Zee Captain asked as he reached up his right hand and grabbed the paper from her gasmask, looking carefully at it before he gasped in shock.

"I can't believe it!"

Zee Captain yelled to the top of his lungs as she looked at the paper through his gasmask intensely, at the top of the page was a report on war that was escalating dramatically, and under that was an advertisement, there was a large picture, which was relatively easy to make out, it was that of an old fashioned sports car from the 1950's, a Morgan. Under the picture were lines of text that were blurred from over the years, but what caught Zee Captains attention was the price of the vehicle that was under the text. In bold print was a dollar symbol with the number ten next to it, it looked like there was going to be another zero but the rest of the page was ripped off from there so it was hard to tell.

"I must find the dealership at once! this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I shall not miss!"

Zee Captain then folded the paper three times before putting it in one of her pockets, then he began his march to look for any sign that lead her to the nearest dealer ship. On his walk he stopped to look into the broken window of an antique shop, placing her hands against the only large piece of glass left in the window frame to look inside. To his delight he seen a Walkman cassette player with headphones on a broken display case that was covered in dust and had some rubble from the ceiling on it, without hesitation she went to the stores door to enter.

The door was a more or less just a wooden frame now for a small amount of broken glass that had been shattered years ago, even with the glass window broken enough for one to easily step through without consequence, Zee Captain grabbed the door handle and pushed open the door before entering. When he let go of the handle to enter the store, the door swung itself closed only to fall off it's rusted hinges and fall forward landing out onto the sidewalk with a thud. Zee Captain paid little attention to this as she approached the Walkman, gently he removed the small pieces of rubble before picking up the Walkman, brushing the dust off it Zee Captain smiled under her gasmask, it was in good condition considering the circumstances, the only damage there was besides a few scratches was the plastic that showed where the cassette went was cracked.

Zee Captain opened his satchel and reached into it only to pull out a cassette tape a few seconds later that she had looted from a ruined vehicles damaged cassette player earlier this day. with a happy smile Zee Captain opened the Walkman and placed the cassette in it, closing the Walkman, he then grabbed he headphones attached to it and put them on before pushing the play button on the Walkman, she looked at it and seen the cassette inside working. Luckily the Walkman had working AA batteries that miraculously survived this long, a few seconds later music flooded into Zee Captains ears, it was The Charleston.

(
)


"ah, lovely~"

Zee Captain said before he put the Walkman into his satchel as she left the store and turned right, walking down the sidewalk to continue on his search for the dealership that she believed existed somewhere in this city with a bounce in his step and her mug in his left hand, still steaming from it's contents. After Zee Captain rounded a corner to continue on his way the store he had been in finally gave way to time and collapsed in on itself.
 
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Drakus stood there, looking out the side of the Blackhawk studying what was once a busy metropolis, now a silent wasteland. The only thing he could hear was the blades of the helicopter and the low static of radio chatter through him comms picking up small pieces of unknown chatter. As they neared the drop off point a clear call cut through the static.

"Hades, I'm sure you're wondering why we rushed you out of the barracks. The brass want to see how you perform outside in the real environment. Up until now all you've faced were training exercises, this is the real deal. You'll be heading to Drop Point Echo to assist an operative with his mission. Once you hit the LZ, get in contact and meet up with Hunter 2-4. You will be under his command, if you have any problems I'm sure the eggheads will fix you right. Got it?"

"Yes sir. I understand fully. I will make contact and move under Hunter 2-4s command upon reaching the LZ." He said slightly lowering his head as the signal dropped. Even though he was rightfully accepted into this lifestyle no one seemed to respect him, but his job was to follow orders and he does it willingly. But now wasn't the time to dwell on his personal problems. He had a job to do.

As the helicopter neared a cleared out intersection it began to descend and slow its course. "Alright, this is your stop friend. Keep your head down and I'm sure you'll be fine." Once it stopped over the intersection a rope deployed on his side. He pulled his KSG from its grip on his back and held it in his right hand as his helmet began to take over his face from the metal sections on the sides of his face. Once the helmet fully covered him he tapped the metal top of the helicopter with his left hand before rappelling down the rope. Once he secured the landing site he gave a thumbs up to the pilot who quickly left the area.

"Hunter 2-4, Hades here. The brass put in a last minute call to deploy me as secondary support for the mission. What's your location?" He said awaiting a reply. There were no signal boosters in the area, but if he was in the area the signal would have no problem getting through.
 
Walter had just finished getting the safe house up and running when a transmission came over the radio. "Odd.... They usually don't check in so soon..." He thought as he answered. "This is Hunter 2-4, send your traffic."

"Hunter 2-4, Hades here. The brass put in a last minute call to deploy me as secondary support for the mission. What's your location?" the person responded. Hades? It was a name that seemed familiar yet didn't ring any bells. Walter walked out onto a ruined edge of the floor of the half collapsed building. Looking down at the clearing he had come from, he spotted the agent "Hades". He was a striking figure, definitely not wearing anything usual, and that was saying something. Zooming in, he noticed the very dragon esq appearance of the agent, along with the very prominent sheath on his back.

"What the fuck did command send me....?" he mumbled to himself. Placing his hand on his ear, and transmitted his response. "Roger that... Hades... Head towards the ruined building roughly 100 meters barring 162 of your location. I'm in the secure room on the third floor. Try to make your way here as discretely as possible agent, you stand out like a sore thumb out there. Hunter 2-4 out."

Walter shook his head and returned into the base. "Dammit, leave it to command to make an easy job a hard one. Hades...... Where have I heard that name...? Definitely not a regular agent.... or anything for that matter, otherwise I would of known. I guess I'll wait for his arrival... that is if he doesn't get spotted in that ridiculous get up...."
 
"Solid copy." Drakus said before starting his way towards the location Walter had described to him. He activated his infrared scanners turning his eyes a light blue to detect any possible hostiles as he carefully made his way to the ruined building. He kept his shotgun at the ready, but kept his finger off the trigger like he was trained. He moved around some of the old destroyed vehicles carefully looking out to make sure if anything was there that he saw it first. When he saw the coast was clear he entered the building and disabled his scanners.

He worked his way up the stairs until he reached the secure room Walter was talking about. He put his weapon away as he slowly approached behind Walter. "I understand you might be slightly irritated. Command seems to like to field test their weapons at the last minute. Name is Drakus, callsign Hades, although the lab often refers to me as Subject 13. Command told me to follow your orders. So here I am. I'm yours sir." He said standing at attention. He might not have been an average agent, but he was trained in a military environment all of his life and it easily showed.
 
"Weapons? So command has some new toys uh? I would say I'm jealous, but frankly I'm glad I don't have to look like Power Ranger, dragon slayer edition. Anyway, so I assumed command at least briefed you on what the mission plan is?" Up front and close now, it was slightly intimidating to see this armored up dragon guy standing in front of him. Considerably inches taller than Walter, he did have an imposing presence. "Oh and you can take off the helmet, the air quality is safe here as are we." Walter said as he removed his before plopping down in an old wooden chair.
 
Drakus nodded as his helmet split and retreated to the sides of his face before folding inward revealing the black slits in his yellow eyes. Half of the steel teeth still showed showing they were built into his jaw showing he wasn't exactly all flesh. He crossed his arms recalling what they told him before he boarded the helicopter. "They didn't tell me much other than that this was purely a snatch and grab mission with secondary reconnaissance objective. I believe they said the main objective was some kind of server room they wanted intel from. I don't think the officer much cared for me because of what I am which I get a lot of. That and because I was merely to be a second gun I don't believe he wanted to waste his breath on me. I guess I shouldn't be shocked though. After all 99% of the operatives are humans and I wasn't exactly put through the same training as most of the others. However I graduated from courses they made even tougher then what some of the agents went through. I guess the lab agents wanted an expendable super soldier line so they wouldn't have to put agents like you at risk, so here I am."
 
"Well, there you are, finally!" Sergi closed his book. and sat upright in his chair, he smiled at the man before him, He had a round head, with balding gray hair and a beard, and spoke with a thick European accent. "Yes, well the trip from the Armory to a place such as here is not an easy trip you know? Nice establishment you have here, Anacostia...hmmm, could be a nation someday." Sergi nodded at the rather portly man, 'Mr.Boise' as he would like to be called, "Yes, I really do hope we can spread the ways of equality to all four corners of the world. Now, down to business. I have some files I need to transfer over to the server in the 'South Vault' as it were, and you, being Mr.Boise himself, as the vault-master, I would like for you to open the door to the South Vault so I can move these lovely files to its server room." Mr.Boise gave a strange look, and Sergi scratched his scruffy neck as he went to search for all the files needed. You didn't wanna mess with this guy, he knows these strange computer and other high-tech stuffs, hence why only he can open the vaults. It sucks like that. He raised an eyebrow, "What files are these exactly? Mr.Dawes, I hope I didn't have to travel all the way down here for a bunch of cooking recipes! Although, that wouldn't be that bad."
"These are recovery files, you know important things that the paper was more important than the heat it gave, and the fact that almost nobody knows that but us?" Mr Boise nodded, "Yes, that is true, but you haven't answered my question, why do I need to vault these? Are they anything with historical value?" Sergei searched through the folders and metal containers that were the files. Finally he raised a finger "Yes, these are definitely governmental, it's got CLASSIFIED written on it." Mr.Boise squinted at the papers a bit before nodding again, apparently very pleased with Sergei's recovery work, "Alright, this is very useful, Ill put this in the vault for future use, most definitely! Follow me to my ride, we break for the surface immediately!" Sergei nodded and got in the vehicle with him and his convoy: apparently, it was an automatic carriage of some sort, a car? and we had the finest protection communism can offer, with two other armored vehicles as well, and a lot of soldiers to help with guard, a convoy of vehicles we were, with heavily armored soldiers all around, we were most definitely 100% mutant-and-ambush-proof. Whatever he recovered from the flame, it was something BIG. It made him feel like a king, and it made Mr.Boise feel like a god, it's been like he's never been happier to find what he found, and it made Sergei Dawes wonder......

Is anyone else after these?

@SqL Constantia Harvey
@Cloudjumper
 
"I would make a joke about you "takin mah jobs!" but I don't go for low hangin fruit. But yeah, life is a bitch. So what can tha-" Walter was cut off by the sound of rumbling vehicles and chatting voices. He bolted out of the chair and put his helmet back on before grabbing his rifle and peering out the small viewing port at the window. He watched as an anthro and a rather aging looking man made their way out the subway entrance and towards a waiting convoy. "Well... I should say that I'm surprised, but the intel on the area was old... I guess someone set up shop here at Anacostia station... Lucky us..." He placed his rifle against the wall again, but plugged his helmet into a spotting scope and zoomed in on the convoy. They anthro seemed to be carrying someth..... "Oh.... I think we just spotted a target of interest...." he said, motioning for Hades to take a look. The anthro carried a number of folders from what he could tell, and on the front one in big stamped letters was "CLASSIFIED". He watched as they loaded into the two armored vehicles. They were fairly well guarded, but nothing to impressive. Makeshift "soldiers" carrying old weaponry and wearing somewhat sufficient body armor. Walter quickly unplugged his helmet optics from the spotting scope and grabbed his rifle, making his way to the door.

"Come on, let's tale these guys and see what they're up to. There only a few routes those vehicles can follow thanks to all the rubble and collapsed roads in the area. We should be able to keep up with them to say the least. Hopefully we may get a shot at getting whatever mister tiger over there is carrying or simply be able to update some intel about the area." he said before making his way out the door. Carefully, they began to move through the rubble, staying hidden from sight and observing the convoy.
 
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Eddie trumps through the busy thoroughfare towards the Ranger blocking the exit to the dangerous tunnel. He tries to avoid bumping into people just to avoid confrontation, but he still manages to knock over a man moving a box of foodstuffs. Ignoring the man and his shouting, he approaches the guard.
He holds his rifle in his left hand as he gives a stiff salute to the Ranger. "Rrrrranger. I am here t'expunge this 'ere tunnel ah any of them rootin' tootin' people-shootin' bandits thems citizens are talkin' bout in the market. I am certifah'd in shootin' no-good varmits and takin' care o' business and am requestin' access to that there tunnel behind ya. Sir!" He maintains the saluting pose, while looking into the space behind the Ranger.

((I'm just gonna leave that there because I don't know if anyone's writing for the Ranger.))
 
Wilson kept up his firm stance until he was sure the man was no longer challenging his word, the ranger letting out a sigh under his breath as his eyes scanned over the crowd. His surroundings were somewhat chaotic, and the din that was created from a mixture of voices didn't help him one bit when it came to thinking over the situation in an attempt to develop a solution.

Over time, the small voice next to him reached his ears, and his gaze slowly shifted over to the younger fellow beside him. There wasn't a quick response from the wolf, and by the time he opened his mouth another distraction exploded not to far way, this time it wasn't directed towards him... Yet. Within minutes of dealing with one person another one was approaching, this one looking to be a bit more equipped than the last individual who approached him. Regardless, the anthro held his stance, a sense of relief going over him when this man seemed to be offering aid.

"No need for a salute." Wilson replied, pausing for a moment to think over the man's offer before continuing. "Unfortunately I will not send anyone over there. They already tried sending a group and that failed... And there were some unarmed people in that group too. These guys are known for catching folks for the slave market or just killing them and taking their stuff.. Bandit stuff. If more people go in than more pe-" There was a cut off there and the Ranger peered over his shoulder down the tunnel he denied access to, going into deep thought. The guard can't help him for they have to protect the station, and time was running out. He had to do something or make some decisions soon before these people loose their patience or get desperate. Fear is an awful thing, and soon it would cause hell in this station if he can not put a stop to it. One man won't do it, but perhaps a group of determined metro dwellers might convince Wilson to give these people one more try. "... Listen. You wanna help?" He asked, pointing back into the crowd as his eyes went to meet the man with the unique vocabulary. "If you can get enough people I believe are able to back us up if we were to run in there and deal with the threat, you got a deal. I will allow you to assist me in getting these bandits out of the way."
 
Sergi Sat in the car with Mr.Boise, along with two other guards. He clutched those filed quite dearly as if they contained his life. They actually might, since Mr.Boise has the ability to make people disappear, no matter how powerful they are! He gives Sergei a raised eyebrow and speaks to him in a soft, lofty tone "You look a bit agitated there Mr.Dawes...is there something on your mind?" Sergi nodded in rejection. "No I believe not. Just a little paranoid is all." The old man gave a laugh, "What's going to catch us out here? Flies? The occasional mutant? No need to worry Mr.Dawes, let me tell you what, since you have been a good friend to me for quite some time, I'll let you on on my darkest secret. I am not a member of Communism, or any faction for that matter! I am merely the Vault-keeper! I use my vaults to keep the history, history in which I now have the job of writing...I am what keeps The Outsiders entertained!"

The cat gave him a confused gaze. "The Outsiders?"
"Yes, the outsiders, I can only assume they wish to keep the history as it is, and destroy my work. But yeah, these guys are like ninja-superheroes, they come in nearly invincible, and do their job without a trace.Best part is, they never kill people! so no need to worry about them! I have met a few actually, but then you know, I took the job of Vault-Keeper!" The cat anthro nodded and put a hand to his chin in response, "That's very...reassuring I guess...So, why the need to tell me this?" Mr.Boise gave him a flat response, completely ignoring his question, "Looks like we're here! The South Vault!" The cars stop, and out pop the two leaders, surrounded by roughly 14-15 guards. Sergi clutched the files in his hand, and looked at the massive building that lay in front of them, it was quite tall, cylindrical in shape, and had holes in several spots from bomb debris. Mr.Boise opened the door, flipped a switch, and wires started flickering all over the place, all of a sudden, the Lights came on! and a humm from the ceiling cam on as well, ventilation! This place is like it never even took that much damage from the war, its amazing how well built it is. Sergei pulled off his mask, since the ventilation seemed to negate the effects of the radiation, Mr.Boise pointed to a few rooms, filled to the brim with papers, electronics and books of all sorts, and after going through a few locked doors, we finally ended up in the server room, which hat a lot of data holders, and a lone computer. Mr.Boise sat down at the computer, and motioned for Sergei to come over.

"Put those files over there, and we will be ready to begin!"
 
"Wilson..." Trotzen continued to say softly, poking Wilson in the side with a singular claw. He held in his paw a few revolver rounds, which he was trying to offer to Wilson. "W-Wilson..." He repeated, looking over his shoulders and beginning to breathe heavily and rapidly, even more than usual.
 
Hades wasn't exactly sure how to respond to Walter's words to whether they were supposed to be an insult or not so he merely kept silent. However when he motioned him to come over he did without hesitation and looked over the group. He covered his face with his mask activating the infrared scanners to get an idea how many personnel they were looking at before the vehicles covered them. "You weren't kidding, I haven't seen someone with enough money to pay guards in some time let alone a convoy during these times. I guess we aren't the only ones with money to spend it seems." He then deactivated his scanner as Walter left to follow them. He followed close behind pulling out his .44 to ensure the cylinder was full just in case the situation went south. Once he saw it was fully loaded he set it back in the holster and did the same with his KSG and kept it at the ready as he followed Walter keeping a few paces back using the previous cover he used to remain hidden. He wasn't sure where they would be led to, but he was trained to deal with situations as they develop, both stealthily and guns blazing. But he was under Walter's command so he would follow his orders whichever way he wanted to go.
 
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The group carefully trailed the convoy from behind as the vehicles maneuvered through the rubble. As Walter had predicted, the convoy had to go down specific routes and go around many blocked off areas where either the rubble or the radiation was too high. This made it easy for the squad to keep up with the armored vehicles. Finally they took up positions in a bombed out office building across a square where the convoy had stopped. Before them was a large governmental building, surprisingly fairly in tack compared to the surroundings. Walter glanced at his data tablet and nodded to Hades. "Right, it seems this convoy just led us to the target building were the server rooms are kept. Looks like they've fortified the place and set up shop.... Hmmm..." he watched as the two assumed VIPs entered the building, followed by a few guards while the others remained posted outside. Walter scanned the building with his sensors, trying to figure out a plan. That's when he noticed the surrounding buildings. While the server room building was fairly intact, the neighboring buildings had various faces and chunks taken out of it from explosions. Though the roof of one of these remaining buildings still held next to the target building.

"Alright, here's the plan. We move through these buildings on the right here, staying out of sight. We then make our way to the roof of that upper right building and jump our way across. Once on the roof, we knock out that sentry and find a way in from there. Once inside, we take it easy. I got the schematics of the building on my HUD, so we shouldn't get lost, but we don't know what they have changed on the inside, however the server room should only be in a somewhat secure room. A reinforced door, but nothing a kicker charge, mute charge combo can't take care of. Those VIPs will also be in the building, maybe even in the server room but we can't be sure." Walter explained while motioning to the map on his tablet.

"You up for it?"
 
Eddie squints for a second at the lupine's orders. They were odd, and he was just as ready to run in there on his own and take out the barricade. However, he also knew that no country could exist without people coming together, and America was no exception. And what better way to bring people together than under the harrowing experiences of gunfire?

He drops the salute, and then runs a couple feet over to a short barrel, jumping up on top. He fails terribly, knocking over the barrel and landing on his stomach. The racket manages to garner a few listeners and/or frightened onlookers, and Eddie quickly gets to his feet and readjusts his blue-tinted aviators.

He puts on his best presidential smile and says, "Howdy, my fella' com-pay-tri-otts. I'm Eddie Hopkins, and I'm whatcha might call a soldier of four-chune. Lucky for you all fine folk, I'm lookin' fer others to share in that forchun', and go fightin' with me while we kick some bandits outta our hard-earned tunnels."
His voice starts raising, from a solid speaking voice to an outright yell.
We're gonna kick some varmit ass and bring back some glory for the good ol' US of A, so who's with me?!"
The onlookers are less than moved by Eddie's impromptu speech, but a few have already grown sick and tired of waiting for those bandits to up and leave. Three men, dressed in standard civillian clothes, step forward.

The first man was somewhere in his 40's most likely. He had a salt-and-pepper goatee and his hair was hidden underneath a flat cap. His brown leather jacket showed wear, as did his jeans and shoes, but it was all well maintained.
The second man, visibly younger and likely somewhere around Eddie's age wore a long cotton trenchcoat and had a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder. Around his neck hung a black rubber gas mask and his face was clean shaven. His hair was fair and cut short. His eyes stood out most, with a vibrant blue color that looked like the sky on a sunny day.
The third and last man was somewhere in his 20's, and doing quite well for it. His grey long-sleeved shirt held tight to his arms revealed an impressive set of muscles underneath. His pants were worn and black, and on its belt hung a mean looking revolver. His face had some rough stubble on it and his brown hair hung messily over his forehead. The bangs are held back somewhat with a backwards baseball cap.

The first man speaks, and his voice carries the air of a leader, "My friends and I are pretty damn tired of sitting around. You sayin' you can get us into those tunnels?" His voice also carried a slight northern accent as was common in the area.
Eddie nods, glasses glinting in the low light. "Yessir. All y'all need are ya guns and yer wits. I got an... Assocaite over there willin' to take us back if we muster up e'nuf men."
The leader of the trio considers this, and the rifleman speaks up. "Will there be compensation?"
Eddie's smile splits his beard, revealing a set of surprisingly white mincers underneath. "Just the feelin' of helpin' Ol' Unkie Sam take back what's his."
The rifleman looks disappointed.
"And, a'course, whatever we find in their camp. Once we're done there thay ain't gonna need it."
The rifleman looks slightly less disappointed.

The leader looks at his two men. "Well then, what are we going to do?" To which the muscular one grumbles, "So long as those fucking bastards are gone. I don't give a shit about Uncle Sam or his dumbass nephew."
Eddie squints and juts out his jaw. Before he says anything he'd regret, the leader turns back to him. "I believe that he shares our sentiments regarding the bandits. We'll go."


Eddie claps his hands together. "Well now, glad t'have ya! Lessgo find us somethin' to shoot. T'gether." He sticks out a hand, and the leader shakes it. "Together."

((I'll give them names later maybe.))
 
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