The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

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His boots thump against the concrete as he lumbers onto the training grounds, the discharge of stun guns ripping through the air. By his side, Chauncey pads lazily, a massive hound that stood well above his waist. He scratches over his chest, a grimace spreading over his face, flashing glinting fangs for a moment as he looks at the shadow wolf, "Nice juicy steak says we get roped into some drill or another before we leave." He huffs and rolls his shoulders, his clothes straining as his muscles shift. Chauncey mimics his snort and licks her chops. He gets a sense of hunger from her in response. "Yeah, yeah. I'll feed you either way, ya ole brute. C'mon, let's go find Marie." He starts off, the beast in tow, in search of the blonde colonel.

It wouldn't take long to find the patently tanned though still distinctly Caucasian woman. She was overseeing the training runs, leaning against a couple crates and smoking a cigar as a trainee fell a few feet in front of her after being stunned. "Idiot." She mutters under her breath as she takes a deep puff and then exhales slowly. When the trainee finally recovered he looked at her with utter confusion as sweat poured from his forehead down his cheeks. "GET BACK IN THE MAZE OR MY BOOT WILL GO SQUARELY UP YOUR ASS!" Marie yells coarsely. The trainee didn't hesitate to flee back into the maze, more scared of the colonel than he was of being stunned painfully again.

She doesn't bother to turn her head to look at the approaching duo, though she does instinctively move to rest her hand over her side-arm: It seemed his animalistic charms had little, if any effect on the survivalist. "What do you and your mutt need from the military today? If you're trying to sell me something, fuck off, that's the third time today."

"Oh, nothin' much, Blondie. Just heard 'bout the recent operation. Thought I'd congratulate you on a job well done, thank you on another buncha raiders sent to hell." He eyes the hand on her gun and chuckles. "Ah, but don't have to be whippin' out your pistol to prove your manhood to me, Colonel. Chaunce and I know you're the toughest sons-of-bitch 'round here," he says with a slight smirk.

"If I was going to prove anything, you would know very briefly." Marie replied simply before taking another puff of her cigar and blowing the smoke through the air lazily. She takes the cigar out of her lips and taps some of the ashes off it before planting it firmly back between her lips. "If you suck any harder, I'll start hearing you slurp next. Skip the pleasantry nonsense of politics and business and cut straight to the climax: What are you and the pup doing here?"

He flashes a wolfish grin and leans up against some crates, looking back over the training grounds, "I've heard some shit about this Carolyn's squad that I've been assigned to. Ragtag bunch. Not to mention things are real tense right now. You don't have to be a genius to know someone's boot is about to drop and shit is gonna come crashin' down. We all know I got a pup to watch after. It does me no good to be livin' in some fool's paradise." He flicks his gaze back over to Colonel Black, looking her over, for a moment thinking it was a damn shame what had happened to her so long ago. Raiders really were the bane of this world. "I figured you were high enough to know things but not too high to have a stick up your ass."

"Right." Marie's eyes obtain a steely edge as she looks over the maze, listening to the nearby sounds of adults screaming in pain at being stunned over and over. There seemed to be little care for their pain in her eyes, as her voice quieted somewhat. "Well, I heard the Council is having a party, and some people are going to crash it. Now, I'm not much of a party girl, in case you haven't noticed already... Buuut... I don't stop my men from getting rambunctious. Worst case, I pretend I didn't know a thing, bake a fuckin' cake of lies, and force feed it to the pig sitting in his cushy little office chair." Her eyes look up toward the grey sky as her eyes close, though she was still more than ready to rip her pistol out of its holster at any moment. "... I heard it's a birthday party for a very special boy, with very unique... Characteristics. They're gonna organize at the big machine shop for mechs in the marketplace later this evening... I heard you're supposed to bring presents." For the first time, as her eyes open, her gaze wanders over to the man. "... Don't be cheap with them, and if you could remind Carolyn that mother expects her to be charitable, I'd really appreciate that. Otherwise, well..." She flicks her cigar to the ground and crushes it underneath her boot. "... Hell hath no fury..."

His tail flicks at hearing her words, concern beginning to run through him. Chauncey, who had settled down to lay, lifts her head, picking up on his emotions as it bleeds through the connection. He nods and tries to keep a cool expression, "So that's how it is. Knew shit was brewing." He scratches along his jaw, "Hell, I need to find a babysitter..." He looks at Marie Black and gets a small smirk, "You good with kids, Blondie?"

"Kids? Me? Brilliant fucking plan." This time, she blows smoke in his direction. "Though if you're going to a party, I'm sure I can keep an eye on your kid for you. Or hire a babysitter. I know a few good babysitters..."

"Would sure appreciate it," he grunts and blows the smoke away. "Shawna's a real good girl, shouldn't give you any hassle..." He taps his boots, readjusting on his feet and stretching, "We should get a drink sometime, Blondie. Maybe with some nice steakburgers. I'm sure you've got some shit to shoot when you aren't busy kicking some ass into line."

"Sure, sure, maybe when Brucey can time a BBQ for once in his life." She chuckles and shakes her head. "Get going."

Xavier nods and waves, "Catch ya later, pup in tow." He starts off and looks down at Chauncey, "Damn, guess I owe you a rare one." He makes a face as he picks at his teeth, "Let's hope this party will be worth it, tonight." In the back of his mind he knew that things were going on, that if you weren't involved somehow, you were going to be hurting. He was just hoping he was going to be on the right side at the end of the day. He was mostly thankful to the Colonel, though. He knew Shawna would be safe in her care regardless of what he was getting into tonight. She was one tough bitch.
 
"People are like dirt. They can either nourish you and help you grow as a person, or they can stunt your growth and make you wilt and die." -Plato.

As the sun drew to a close, a chilling feeling swept throughout the entire colony. The patrols outside ended as even the vagabonds of society fluttered into hiding. The streets, typically bustling with activity even at the sight of a rising moon, were barren of everything save the occasional animal that prowled for scraps of food. Dust was swept up in bitter gusts of wind, with only the sound of junk dealer signs occasionally disturbing the silence. It became very painfully clear that the Council and Chicago's security forces were about to get into a scuffle: It wasn't the first time the two factions had looked at each other with disdain, but rarely did it ever come to violence.

Carolyn waited quietly by a large machine shop in the second ring, waiting for whoever was going to join her. She had sent out letters and messengers to meet her by the machine shop--all save for Omar, who was seen leaving the main bunker compound and thus could no longer be trusted. She was in a jump suit, leaning beside a doorway with her arms crossed. At her waist was a radio, as she waited for a signal to start the operation.

Meanwhile, in the second ring, two members of the Council's elite and prestigious Death Watch remained on guard. One had a clipboard with a list of names, as the Council was also aware of the impending conflict and was limiting who was allowed entry. It seemed they were giving some people a last minute chance to side with the Council in the impending conflict.

The woman in blue was also sighted again, in the marketplace as before. Though it was reported that she was only being seen by those she wished to be seen by, as every attempt by the citizens of the Bunker to reach her resulted in her disappearing in the blink of an eye. It was rumoured that she was waiting for someone, though nobody knew who for certain.

The only one that seemed to be completely avoiding sight at this point was Morai Lee. He had simply vanished without a trace, and any hope of finding him now had gone like smoke in the wind. There was no doubt that he would likely involve himself in the conflict, but there was no way of discerning how or why.

There wasn't much time left to take a side... Though, even inaction was action at this juncture.
 
Brucey - Machine Shop


Brucey had gotten the message and turned over the running of the BBQ to his most trusted assistants as he took the Ignis Dei over towards the Machineshop, the fact he kept his Mech near the BBQ had always annoyed some people in power, but it was his property and people were always interested in it. It had undergone some upgrades too, the new chin-gun wasn't much good against heavier stuff, but it'd be good enough against people and weaker mutants, additionally the new customised ammo bays gave it a few more options and the ERA would improve survivability.

As usual music preceded him as he headed into the machineshop, the Ignis Dei wouldn't fit through the main doors for much longer if Brucey kept upgrading it, but he had plans to add more munitions. Entering the machine-shop he popped the cockpit and slid down the ladder as fast as it was being deployed. Without even an inch of hesitation he headed over to Carolyn. "I got your message and came as fast as possible, I didn't know Adam for long, but turning him over like that made my blood run cold. I know he understood, but I won't leave him to people who are going to turn our Bunker into U-Arm 2.0 so where do you want me?"

"Just inside the machine shop for now, Brucey." She pats him on the shoulder, then crosses her arms over her chest once more, watching for anyone else outside the machine shop. "Just keep on your toes. I don't think it'll be more than a few minutes now. We gotta run this as a quiet operation, in case we have a snitch in our ranks. As is, they'll know we're coming."

"So turn off the external speakers is what you're saying." He grinned at her. "Still, this is going to get ugly, do we have any friends inside higher up the rungs than we are? Because while I have full confidence in our abilities if they turn out the whole military against us we're going to need shipping containers full of lube for the reaming we'll get." Brucey crudely remarked.

"I trusted my father before, I'm trusting him now, and he's a general... Need I add more to earn your faith, Brucey?" Carolyn replies with a small smile.

"Nope, never did, i'd have followed anyway. What we did was wrong turning him over like that, I owe it to him to help undo that mistake. It just helps to know we aren't going to be completely butchered. Though you know how things are, if there is anyone who is going to join us who's got to get back home to a loving wife who he just found out was pregnant as well as getting cleared of a life threatening disease... they won't be going home. Well, time to play the waiting game." Brucey climbed back up into his cockpit, he left the hatch open so he could converse and hear what was going on, but some precautions help.




Viper - Second Ring Entrance


Viper moved salaciously up towards the entrance and the Deathwatch guards without an inch of fear. She had no fear of them and was certain that if they objected to her presence they would very soon regret it. It likely didn't help them that her catsuit was shifting in its attempt to match the environment and cloak her from sight leaving them only to see a disembodied head now and again.

"I'm here for the party. Care to let me through gentlemen?" She remarked with a cruel smile. She had not fully decided what to do, the increase in tension was thick enough to cut with a blade and it was only getting worse, it would devolve into conflict.

But the Council had given her a chance, so, for now, she had thrown her lot in with them. They had her loyalty, though not love, for now. And it'd continue to be that way... for now.

Viper reflected to herself on how many 'for now' conditions remained in her mind, a reflection of her raider past perhaps? The knowledge and need for the ability to swap sides or bail out if conditions became problematic? It was something that concerned her to a degree, though she knew, like all ex-raiders that she had commitment issues, this was shaping up to be the sort of confrontation where once sides were picked that it was all in with no chance to reconsider.

Civil conflicts were always like that. If it came to a point that she would need to swap sides she'd have to turn on her current side in combat where the other side could see. Which was also problematic.

Turning on your allies in combat was an excellent way to catch them by surprise. But there was always the chance the other side would keep shooting at you anyway.

For a moment Viper actually considered simply bailing out on the whole situation. Take her new gear and fade back into the wastelands beyond the walls. But no.

Never again.

With a smile she made her resolve. She'd pick a side, and if she felt the need, swap during a crucial moment, but she wouldn't run from this.

It was going to be too much fun.
 
= Peter Tao =​


Dusk had finally reached Bunker Chicago's Second Ring outskirts, sheltering the day's the waning light streaming across the doted cityscape sprawled all along the Bunker's Inner walls. This night seemed no different than any other and aside from the transpiring situation throughout the ground level, nothing seemed to interrupt the ongoing activities within other apartment residences, not especially the steamy mist that seemed to escape one particular window located along one of the more elevated apartment heights.

The water moisture and droplets pattering against the foggy windows only seemed to intensify amidst the gentle bangs and the sound similar to yowling cats and as the evening grew late, sporadic gasps and passionate moans joined into the chorus of moving intimacy. A female hand suddenly slapped against the windows before slowly sliding down to mark an imprint clear enough to unveil two legible individuals that resembled a well built, dark-haired man and a athletic, brunette haired woman passionately touching lips as they leaned against the wet shower tiles. The couple continually blurred together whilst the passionate caressing and oozing, bodily motions continued for another hour before the fog and steam completely dissipated.

Several embraces later, the two departed the shower enclosure and began drying off the sweat and water still clinging to their skin. The dark haired man, seized his dog-tags and quickly set to work in robustly patting himself down. His eyes quickly strayed towards the ravishing woman standing before him. Her shoulder length hair draped across her shoulders and athletic figure were enough to put him at ease. Of the many things he didn't regret, meeting Kelsey was one of them and married life had proven to have ups he could not have imagined.

Somewhere between drying her hair, a sudden buzzing sound proved captivating enough to provoke her reach towards an advanced communicator laying along the marble counter. Seconds soon dragged into minutes and before long, Peter found his wife sighing as she forcefully tossed the communicator onto the faucet counter and face palmed in an irritable manner. Sensing a potential downward domino effect, he did the only thing he knew that could calm her nerves through careful shoulder massages.

"So babe," Peter began as he gently thumbed her muscles, "Are you making any progress down in the labs?"

"Uhhhh … ahahaha ... are you kidding me, Peter?" Kelsey answered, half-flustered and equally joyous, "The anti-radiation breakthroughs just came in and the results are just astounding to the point where I'm not even sure what we were doing back in Washington! There was so much red tape, it took months and long odd hours to get anywhere. The tests here in Chicago look for immunologic responses in irradiated tumors and there's a whole division for Nanoimmunologic anti-cancer therapy that bridges research between immunologic therapies and nanomedicine. If we could have just proceeded without the unnecessary 'safety protocols' in Washington, we wouldn't have had incidents like that one time when we had to kill all the lab animals undergoing brain surgeries. Had there been more freedoms in conducting and examining the surgeries, the procedures would have allowed us to identify and remove any developing cancerous radiation tumors. There's just so much to be done that I get stressed thinking about where which direction the treatments are going and ..."

"Babe? It's been a pretty gnarly couple weeks and you've been under a lot of stress. Why don't we just forget about work enjoy the moment we have together, okay?"

Sighing, Kelsey smiled as her husband pulled her in. The two shared another passionate kiss that evolved into a long embrace. The two held each other for a long and stared out across the skyline where the sun had already set. The moment became all the more sweeter as the cool winds that blew through the window canvas and proved a reminder of just how a step back to enjoy life's smaller moments could validate their meaningful existence throughout the world's unforgiving harshness.

As the room completely darkened, their instance soon evaporated as a child's screech erupted from the adjacent hallway. Blinking, the two unwound and quickly seized towels before quickly dashing towards the nursery. Halfway through scampering across the hallway, Peter's vision pinpointed a concealed note he hadn't noticed upon entering the bathroom. Concealed notes were usually never a good sign and served as a codified notification for the Captain's emergency assembly protocol …
 
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Manny had gotten the message while he had been unwinding at the little apartment provided for the team. He sighed wearily and let out a tired shit before he began to pack his things. He slid his new pistol into his side-guard holster; a neat little European gun he had picked up at the market-place along with a few new supplies. He should have suspected things would go bad the moment he saw those spec-op looking guys take the prisoner away. Now a small civil war was going to break out soon and Manny did not like the idea of going against the Council, it seemed like a damn foolish thing to do. On the other hand he wasn't gonna shoot at his new "team-mates": they hadn't done any wrong to him and while he hadn't talked to any of them, they seemed like okay people.

It irked him, leaving his new squad behind so suddenly, but what were they to him? As he slung his back-pack and his rifle over his shoulder he began to justify his actions: they were just people, average ordinary people whom he only had a brief connection to. And now he was being asked to fight against the Council for them? It seemed only rational to get out to the country and settle down and let this whole thing die down. Then when the bodies were burned and the streets were cleaned up he would stroll back in and get his old job back from whoever won. The thought of being on a squad bothered him. It's not that he didn't like people he just felt uncomfortable around them. Manny didn't know what to say, or do, like his thought process was completely different from everyone else, and in his younger years he resented that.

As he walked through Bunker Chicago towards the gates of the city, sliding past panicking people trying to either pick a side or find safety before the guns started going off. He thought of when he was just 18 and like all other 18 year olds, he hated his parents. They didn't understand him, no one understood him! He smiled at the foolish brat he had been, it was true that even to this day he can't relate to people but at least now he didn't whine and treat himself like some tragic unique little snowflake. He took it all in stride and spent his time out in the wilderness with just his thoughts and nobody forcing him to translate it all for them. At least it was that way until now, with this damn squad. At least with his parents he just ran away to the caravans, those people were perfect. If you wanted to talk for those brief moments, you could and if he felt like he didn't belong than he could just scout ahead and everything was fine. He liked those people because he never had to invest anything in them. And even when they died, it was just a tragic incident, there was no special bond. Why should it be any different between these people?


"I hope they'll be alright"

He stopped all of a sudden, why did he think that about them? He didn't wish harm on them but why did he think them so different that he wanted them to be safe? And even more pressing, why was he trying to deny these thoughts and pretend they didn't exist? He looked at the exit ahead, he could just leave and let this whole thing blow over. Hell maybe he could even travel to another city, start things again. He knew he would most likely survive a journey like that, he'd done it before.

He turned and began to walk in the opposite direction, he couldn't really say why. He should have left, for at the moment he had no intention to join up with his squad, defying the Council was something that didn't end well. But he wanted to at least watch over them, see how they were doing, stuff like that.

He needed a relatively safe place to dig in but also not too far away to where he guessed the fighting would start. Not an easy task, but he pulled out his map and began to inspect it, he saw a few abandoned buildings that fit the descriptions he was looking for, and they were tall enough to get a good view of Bunker Chicago if he went to the top floor.

Of course when he got there everything was boarded up, but it was nothing a few punches and rips with his cybernetic arm couldn't get through. Like he expected, the place was decrepit, dirty, dark and most importantly, abandoned. As he climbed the stairs he was thankful that the building's structure hadn't rotted to the point of collapse. When he reached the 4th​ floor he went into one of the dirty offices and looked out the window; this would be a good enough view for now.

He signed as he hunkered down into the corner and settled in, grabbing his binoculars and draping them around his neck. He should have left but here he was, staying in a shit concrete building waiting for a war to start that he didn't want to participate in, yet he wanted to help his new comrades. So why didn't he just meet up like he was told?

Was it cowardice? Manny did not want to think so, but he figured he would find the answer out when the bullets started flying.
 
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Second - Third Ring Squadron Apartments - Dusk
Peter and Spook​


The note was brief, given the nature of their proximity to the Second Ring, provoking Peter to immediately rush to the other side of apartment hallway. Following a quick swab into his outfit, the specialist seized his sidearm and other required essentials. As part of a mutual compromise to sustain a balance between maintaining sustainable family and serving as a special forces operative, Peter rushed to the nursery and casually uttered a phrase, "Babe, it's getting late. Why don't we get some rest?"

Seizing up Jimmy from his Bunker toy block-fort, his wife blinked as her face turned slightly pale before she uttered, "We'll wait for the morning to roll through."

Smiling, the specialist kissed both wife and son along the cheek before departing through the front door without uttering another word. Situations like these demanded utmost caution and if he could count on anything, it was the fact that Captain's dire message pressed upon an issue he could not ignore. After proving his metal with F.A.S.T., he'd managed to call in enough favor to gain temporary access to Bunker Washington's Library of Congress and what he'd uncovered in regards to Bunker St. Louis' demise had proven unsettling.

The quick sequential manner of events prior to its fall bore startling similarities and symptoms to Bunker Chicago's current predicament and if he did not act, he feared Bunker Chicago would befall a similar fate. Upon reaching and amidst utilizing his spec ops training to exfiltrate across the Second Ring outskirts, he managed to simply reach the squad's apartment through various stealthy maneuvers and detours.

He was within inches of reaching the apartment entrance when from the corner of his eyes, he noticed several strange oddities associated towards his surroundings and without hesitation, the specialist drew his firearm and fell into a crouched roll. Follow various cat-like movements that quickly brought him behind cover to level his pistol towards a figure lurking within the shadows. It was after a moment that he was able to discern the woman's facial features enough to lower his weapon.

"Holy shit, Spook. You scared the living fark out of me."

Smirking, Peter holstered his firearm and exhaled in relief. After sweeping the perimeter to ensure they weren't under surveillance, the operator leaning against a nearby wall before voicing, "I'm not sure what to believe, but seemed more than a little dead out there. I'm guessing you also got the notice?"

Spook was leaned up against a wall as well, one knee propped up by a foot resting on a rock, and she hadn't moved at all during the theatrics of Peter's approach. Rather than answering the question verbally, she simply lifted her right hand a few inches and showed him the note she held. "Course I spooked you, didn't earn the name for nothing. Those might've been some smooth moves if you hadn't looked half way to pissing your pants in the process." There was no obvious joking inflection to her voice, but one side of her mouth lifted up a fraction of an inch in what might have been a smile. It disappeared as she looked out at the empty streets. "More'n a little dead, yeah. I've been here for a couple hours and you're maybe the fifth person I've seen. Everyone feels the trouble coming, and they've got the good sense to stay out of it." Spook looked back to Peter, face blank. "You gonna pick a side?"

Frowning, the operator's gaze fell down upon the emptied streets, abandoned shops, and the dim, flickering lights spilling from the Third Ring's many street lamps. It was a moment before Peter leaned further against the wall as his arms firmly crossed. "Well," he briskly answered, "That really depends on who's left standing when this is all over and I get the feeling that if we don't act; we're probably gonna get the short end of the stick."

Sighing, Peter tilted his head and leaned in as his piercing eyes firmly locked upon the seasoned fighter's face, "I'll tell you something, Spook; the last time Bunker locals and the Council came to blows was twenty years ago when I was only seven years old. That was in St. Louis and the Mississippi locals were holding their own before the Council stepped in for various reasons and interests."

Through curled lips Peter paused to carefully set out on brief quest to examine his pistol magazines before, continuing, "The Council, of course, took the upper hand and sometime afterwards, I watched from a distance as my home imploded from within. Some people farked up and they farked up big time; I'm just glad I was one of the lucky ones out of few hundred that actually made it out in time before the entire bunker got overrun. The other tens of thousands weren't that lucky and … they didn't make it."

Gritting his teeth, Peter looked down and shook his head. "We cannot let another Bunker fall. Not here, Spook; not in Chicago ..."

Spook didn't say anything for a long while. She looked out at the creepy silent streets of the city, tapping the note against her thigh. When she finally spoke the words came slow and contemplative. "If you're right, if the Council is winding up to ruin Bunker Chicago, why stand against that? One more soldier won't count for squat against the Death Watch. You ready to stake your life on a cause here tonight?" She paused, then went on in a harder tone, accusatory and verging on cruel. "You ready to stake your wife's life on a cause? Your kid's? You gotta think about that shit before you go talking about what you cannot do like some damn hero."

Silence reigned for a few moments, then she spoke again with another tone shift, now soft and quiet. "I have nothing, you know? My life... Nobody is gonna miss me if I die. But you? What's gonna happen to your wife and kid if you die? What's gonna happen if the other side, whoever you make an enemy out of, recognizes you and decides to hurt you through your family?" Spook shook her head, sighing quietly. "I don't think you're wrong about this stuff, and I'm planning on making this meeting, but maybe you oughta step out. I don't know you much, barely even remembered your name when you showed up, but you're a decent guy. You really willing to risk everything for Bunker Chicago?"

The harsh words hit hard; almost like an APC ramming a mutant dire wolf at maximum speed. Kelsey and Jimmy came to mind and the thought of their demise seemed as real as the sun itself. It was something he cared not to think about lest it cloud his judgments or battlefield performance. His tenure under BW-SEC and F.A.S.T. Had said as much and the moments where he didn't think he'd make it out alive, were too many to count. Through sheer luck and adversity lived to fight another day and for that he continually counted his blessings.

He couldn't forget the day he heard the screams of the dead, trapped, and dying souls that never made it out of Bunker St. Louis, amongst them, his father, cousins, and uncles. The other realities, included men and women from BNY-SEC that fought, bled, and died with him to neutralize the beasts and irradiated incarnations that infested New York's frontiers or the countless gangers, brigands, slavers, and marauders that terrorized Southern homesteads into oblivion. The Council was responsible for back room meetings that decided who received what and which said persons lived or died. The real credit went out to the brave men and women that committed their lives to fulfilling their oath to society.

"You know you've got a point there Spook, so I'll at least give you that," Peter answered, nodding in earnest, "If I'd have let my own fears overrule my concerns for those around me, I wouldn't have fallen into this trade. This is what I signed up to do and I accept the responsibilities that come with this line of work. There were times when I've had to shoot women and children in the streets because they were wielding RPGs and Suicide vests pointed at innocent civilians. Sad fact, I had a job to do … and did it. No matter where we go, no matter how safe we think we are; we can't escape the fact that something or someone could fark us over in the blink of an eye."

A moment passed as he paused to watch several lights flicker out of commission. It served as a moment to take a pull from his water canister given that they were about to head into the hornet's nest. He'd carefully chosen his location along the entrance that concealed against possible sniper fire. Bunker Washington's OTC had at least taught as much, however, he was beginning to envy Spook's location given that she remained out of sight and in a position that offered serious counter-sniping possibilities.

"This is Bunker Chicago, not the Colonies so we are within their sphere of jurisdiction," Peter began again, "When shit hits the fan, I'd rather not think about what's gonna happen if the Council bails to save their own asses. I'd rather live with knowing that I did everything I could to preserve the lives of my family, friends, and everyone around me than sell myself high to wear pretty skirts behind a polished desk. My uncle was in the Death Watch, bet his life on the Council, and … look where it got him."

Another pause came as the operator unveiled his combat knife and began tossing it between both hands. Several tosses later, the knife handle fell into his right hand to where he brought it into a downwards grip. "I'll risk everything for Kelsey, for Jimmy, for everyone here in Chicago so that we have a future in this god forsaken irradiated shit-hole we used to call America. If we go with the Council, it's every person for themselves. Do nothing and we're just as good as dead. Together though? At least we got each other, our buddies, and enough to keep us going for the long run. I'd rather bet on that because it's all we got. I'll make this meeting tonight if it ensures a future for this Bunker and everyone living inside these walls. Regardless of what happens, I got your six, Spook. You can count on it ..."

"Figured you'd say something like that." Spook pushed away from the wall and stepped out into the open, apparently unconcerned by the thoughts of snipers that worried Peter. "Had to make sure you were really in, and give you a way out if you decided it wasn't worth it. Can't say I approve, but it's your life. At least I know the guy on my six won't flake, so that's something." She glanced round the empty streets again and that little hint of a smile came back. "You might wanna work on that habit of giving long speeches though, windbag." Spook started walking, headed toward the machine shop with no rush to her steps. "Start yapping like that in a fight and someone'll take you down just to spare their ears."

"You know, thanks for the heads up, Spook, I'll keep all that in mind," the operator answered before unpocketing and wriggling a dark balaclava over his face, "Likewise, I'm sure the U-ARMies won't appreciate it when you interrupt their monologues with bullets."

Smirking, his priorities shifted towards sweeping the streets as he fell in line alongside Spook to reach the machine shop. He kept his fingers ready for combat as the situation demanded and reserved calming, yet cautionary approach towards the impending journey forward.

"Right now, if we keep a low profile, no one'll be wiser."

In hindsight, Peter surmised that they would likely traverse through the residential side alleys throughout the Second Ring outskirts. If push came to shove, he knew of a couple detours that would keep them out of sight. Ever mindful of the Council's tracking capabilities, Peter kept to his training in maintaining an inconspicuous presence and before long, the two found themselves standing before the machine shop entrance ...
 
Omar strolled—actually strolled—up the street on his way to the Councilor's Office. He'd been feeling strange all day, but it wasn't until after he got his eyes worked on and then got some sleep in preparation for the night's festivities that he realized what had caused it. Everyone knew mutants could spontaneously develop new mutations, but Omar hadn't experienced it since he was a kid, so he hadn't been familiar with the signs. His legs now had some rather unfortunate looking bony patches all over them, but he could walk now, not just limp around, and so he carried his cane only out of habit this night. The pain was still there, sadly, but with this new ability to walk like a normal person it felt like a rolling sizzle of pain instead of the slow, sharp jabs of the past. Just the novelty of feeling an altered kind of agony made it bearable for the moment. On top of the simple utility of having more or less functional legs again, Omar felt that his other mutations, the psychic bullshit that he'd regretted tapping into before, had grown in both scope and power. All in all he was feeling content and ready to betray his allies of yesterday in order to make his friends of tomorrow.

The Death Watch guards on the second ring were new, but not unexpected, though they did add to the eerie atmosphere of the oddly empty streets. Neither was Omar himself unexpected, for he was not even challenged to identify himself. He passed on by and hurried to his destination. He walked into the Councilor's Office and peered around, expecting to see hordes of the Death Watch standing ready to go.

There was not a single member of the Death Watch within the office, though the lights had dimmed to a solitary light shining upon the desk on the raised pedestal of the room. There was a silhouette of a chair behind the desk, with a figure draped in darkness, though the figure's legs were stretched out onto the desk. A pair of combat boots and light ankle pad armour was draped in contrast over a rather expensive looking pair of dress pants: All were uniformly black. The figure leans forward and places an empty glass on the desk, which once contained wine given the reddish hue at the bottom of the glass. "Omar, I expected you... You've made a smart choice."

"I had to get one right eventually." Omar made his way closer to the desk, cocking an eyebrow at Ryan's combat attire but not bothering to say anything about it. "I hope your plan doesn't rely on me deceiving Carolyn and whoever goes with her. She didn't send me an invite to their rendezvous, so she either knows or suspects that I'm a traitor, as she'd probably phrase it. I almost feel like asking to be paid with thirty pieces of silver to fill the role, but they lack a messiah figure so the reference would be wasted." He allowed himself a grin at his own joke, but didn't pause for long. "On the plus side, it turns out mutant bullshit can play nice and now I'm just a gimp, not really a full on cripple. I might actually be able to manage kicking ass in a non-metaphorical sense for the first time in ages, and if I have my choice it'll be Georgia on the receiving end of it. Ah, but I'm getting head of myself. What's the plan for tonight?"

"Well..." Ryan picks up his empty glass and then swings his feet off of his desk. He was decked out in light combat gear, though it looked to be made of rare materials. He taps his desk three times, and Omar could hear the footsteps of a man coming out of the shadows behind him. Omar couldn't see him until some sort of camouflage device was disabled. The man takes a few steps forward, passing Omar and laying out a highly detailed map of the compound across Ryan's desk. For some reason, unlike with Ryan, Omar couldn't even feel the presence of the camouflage-device wielding man, who wore black armour like other members of the Death Watch, though his seemed specially made. Ryan nods to the man as he knees down beside his desk to retrieve a bottle of wine, to pour himself a second glass. The man speaks, his accent was rough and reminded Omar of outsiders from the Eastern European region--though he couldn't put a finger on where.

"A frontal assault would be suicide, so we have to either assume that they have another way in or have a way to disable the defenses to the front door. Either way, we have to assume they have at least one man on the inside capable of doing either." He motions to another part of the map, deeper inside the complex in an area that was left off most maps of the compound. "The target is being held here. We are merely to hold this position, as this is their objective, and we have no reason to believe that they would compromise the compound's industrial capacity when it feeds and arms their own military forces." He pulls out a combat knife and marks a couple spots on the map. "These are possible entry points, but we can't be sure of where they will infiltrate from--" Ryan places the bottle of wine on one of the corners of the map with a loud thud, and starts sipping from his glass. He glances at the his subordinate, and then motions with his head towards Omar. "Stukov, skip the boring parts and tell the man where he's going and what he's doing." Stukov nods, and taps the map in the residential quarters area. "There is little reason to disbelieve that General Antoinette will not help his daughter and the local militia. You have a... Unique, set of abilities. Specifically, your ability to discern if the general will lie or not about his surrender. We will want you, Jenive, and a couple members of the Death Watch to arrest him. If he doesn't comply, then kill him, and we will pretend the militia did it: Full military funeral and all..."

"Hmm." Omar looked over the map, mainly to buy himself a moment to think. Working with the Council was one thing, but specifically moving against General Antoinette would probably make him an irreversible enemy or three.. assuming that the General was smart enough to live to tell the tale. Then again, few rewards ever came without some hard work and sacrifices. "I can pull the old lie detector gig, no problem. Better than before even, thanks to recent developments. I assume the muscle will take care of my needs in the shooting and punching departments in case of unwelcoming guards."

Omar paused, realized he was trying to pussyfoot around the potential killing part of the plan, then made a snap decision. He felt he still had to prove himself truly aligned with the Council, else they'd hold him at arms length and might one day mark him as disposable, then they would perhaps send someone like Stukov out to find him in the night to make sure their secrets would remain secret. "But if the General needs to die, I'll pull the trigger myself."

"Indeed?" Ryan sips his wine and steps over to Omar. He reaches out and pats Omar on the shoulder. "Remember, Bunker Chicago is part of our family... Don't be so eager to kill them. They know not what they do." Stukov shakes his head and goes back to the map, seemingly running over the several possible battle plans in his mind over and over. "You can find Jenive waiting for you by leaving this room and taking a right. Follow the corridors and signs until you reach the residential sector. Good luck, Omar." His hand slips away from Omar's shoulder, and Omar could sense some amount of sincerity from Ryan, though for what in particular, he wasn't entirely certain.

"Right, right, no itchy trigger finger. I'll control myself. Good luck with the defense, and watch out for the bitch in blue, I'd bet everything I own on her being mixed up in this crap tonight too." Omar didn't bother with any further pleasantries. He headed out of the room and took a right, both worried and excited about this night's work.
 
Georgia Rhettland​

Georgia huddles in the apartment her and Carolyn shared, crouched over a bag and shoving things into it she felt she would need. Fuse line. Detonators. Frags. Stick silver. She pauses, holding up the roll of duct tape, frowning as she remembers all the things her and Carolyn jury rigged together with the stuff. She closes her eyes and stuffs it deep into the bag and tries to forget it. She was doing what was right here. Carolyn could not hold that against her. Still she was feeling these tugs of guilt and worry. Worse still, she wondered if she would cast a traitor if they met tonight.

She sighs and grabs Nick and checks that the safety is fast on him before placing him into the duffel. The idea was to carry her things and make it to the market without drawing too much notice. Once they got closer to the compound and further from public eye, then she would take out the immediate gear like her webbing with ammunition, grenades, radio and various tools as well as her weapons. As it was, she had the bulk of her armour on under ill-fitting clothing. She picks at the black hoodie with holes in it as she looks into the mirror. Her face was filthy, her hair was a mess: underneath it all, though, her face was too round and her eyes too large and it gave her the appearance of a runaway youth.

She casts her gaze away, zipping the bag up and hefting it over her shoulder, walking to the door. Georgia takes a couple steps and grasps Thomas, looking at him, "Do you think I'm doing the right thing, Thomas?"

You know she could die on her own, but how much is your curiosity about this woman?

Georgia purses her lips and furrows her brow, looking at Thomas, "I've never seen anything like her... And Thomas, she makes me feel safe and... and like I'm normal. I haven't felt that in so very long. Cara is great, but, sometimes..." She trails off.

She isn't me. I know, Georgie. You have to let people in, though. You worry them. With me, especially. They don't understand. But still, Georgie, I'm de-

She cringes and sets the teddy bear aside in a hurry. She departs from the room, eyes closed, murmuring, "I'll be back..."

---

She makes her way to the market, nervous and keeping her arms close to herself. Georgia searches the faces in the crowd, expectant to find Evelynn. Yet, in the back of her mind, she knew that the strange orange eyed woman would likely get the drop on her, even as her own senses were running erratic, telling her of what was about her.

Xavier Vetts​

Xavier catches another tossed bit of prepackaged ration meat from Bunker Chicago's finest wares and flashes a wolfish grin at a scraggly black haired girl with bright red eyes. She grows elated and claps as Xavier chuckles and lifts her up in his arms and rumbles, "Alright, lit'l miss, 'nuff foolin'. Did ya get yer stuff all packed?"

She sniffs indignantly and tugs lightly on the tufts of fur on his chops, whining, "Papaaa, I'm not little."

He raises his brows and raises her up a little higher in the air so her legs dangle and looks her up and down. She begins to giggle as he smirks, "Why, if I didn't think Chaunce was a big push-over, I'd think she'd gobble ya in one bite."

Her eyes go wide and she whispers, "Chauncey would never do that, she loves me."

He snorts and cradles Shawna back to his chest, "Like hell she won't if you didn't pack those bags, lit'l miss. Now did ya or didn't ya?"

She gets a big pout on her lips and thumps against his chest, "I did, papa." She broods for a second before shaking his shoulder, "Papa, am I really gonna get to stay with Marie?" Her eyes are full of wide-eyed hope.

He grins and pats down her back, careful of the rows of protruding spurs along her spine, "Yeah, Shawna. So long as you don't annoy her half to death."

Her eyes, he did not believe possible, grow even larger, "No! I won't do that. I'll be good."

He nods and glances out the window to see the encroaching night on Bunker Chicago. His brow creases for a moment before he looks back at Shawna and grins, "We better get goin'. Papa's got work t'night and it's a long walk, Shawna."

She frowns, "Really far?"

He shrugs, "Chaunce'll give you a ride, don't worry."

---

He was a bit later arriving than he liked, but Shawna had been a little more resistant to his leaving than he liked upon seeing him break out his gear. It had made the trip to Marie a long and tense one, but he was thankful when the girl brightened at seeing the woman. The girl needed idols and he found Marie one of the better ones to have in this world.

Walking into the machine shop, his ears were accosted and he suddenly got a wave of displeasure from Chauncey. There was another niggling animal presence in the shop that he was registering and seemed happy enough. He wondered where the little critter was. He looks around the group and his furry brows knit together: it was definitely an assorted bunch. He hefts his machine gun a bit closer and raises his chin, looking for whoever was in charge. It was not hard to find her. She held herself just a bit higher than everyone else. They just always seemed to hold that particular attitude.

"Nice to meet ya. Xavier Vetts, or Beast if you prefer. Long time BC-SEC. First time to your shin-dig. Marie Black told me there was a party and I brought presents," he jiggles his gun. "I would ask details. I am sure the details are great. Honestly, I don't know if I want to know details right now, considerin' the who. Always nice to be able to plead ignorance. I figure, though, if Blondie is throwin' around invitations, I won't hate myself too much for bein' a part of it at the end of the day."[/hr]
 
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Carolyn's Machine Shop​


Shortly after emerging through the light, Peter and Spook issued hardened stares as they calmly strolled in unison as their dimly lit silhouettes dragged across the floors. The moment the two stepped through the machine shop entrance, the impending reality that there was no turning back lingered. A careful glance upwards provoked the Washington operator to whistle as his eyes rested upon a gleaming mech that bore all the marks and touches associated towards Brucey's possession. Carolyn quietly stood some feet away, bearing crossed arms as she leaned against the entrance.

Following a careful moment of self-inflection and past recollections, Peter offered Brucey a respectful nod and wave before straighting as his heels pivoted to placed him directly within the Captain's line of vision. His eyes wandered towards the shop's light bulbs before carefully estimating the effect a gunpowder filled bulb might have serve as a intruder fail-safe.

Through proper installation, an entire room fitted with gunpowder-filled lightbulbs could wipe out whole squadrons breaching the perimeter with a mere flipped switch. The shop's possible ambush positions, fallback locations, and makeshift spots suitable for defenses were equally viable should complications arise, though if shit really did hit the fact, he hoped their predicament wouldn't force them back to the machine shop's perimeter.

It was after issuing a respectful nod, that Peter cleared his throat. "Captain," he addressed, "Spook and I got the memo and figured you had more than a little problem."

Following a rather lengthy pause to further examine the machine shop exterior surroundings, the operator leaned against the wall adjacent the Captain's location and sighed before continuing, "With all due respect, it's usually not our place to interfere with affairs above the local level, but ... after seeing first hand how the Council handled Adam's transfer, I'd say Spook and I are more than ready to do what it takes to give Bunker Chicago a fighting chance."

Contrary to her usual habits, Spook didn't head for a corner or shadowy area or other convenient spot to use for lurking about and remaining unnoticed. Instead she stayed out in the open, hands hanging loose at her sides and away from her weapons as she looked round the machine shop. She let Peter give his spiel, but did so whilst watching him with raised brows and a faint smile. Once he was done she stepped forward and gave him a light jab to the shoulder.

"Speak for yourself, I can handle my own words. They're even gonna be different from yours, you wannabe hero." Spook's lips were tweaked into a crooked smirk as she turned her attention to Carolyn. "I'm new to the gang. Wasn't around for the first party, but I've heard some things, snooped out some others, and shit doesn't add up. Don't need no special cause to want to ruin the Council's evening, arrogant assholes deserve it even without getting into my personal reasons, so I'll fight anyway. Got a question though. The fuck is so important about some mutie freak being taken and why are you gonna fight over him?"

Carolyn looked between Peter and Spook as they each took their turn to speak. Though she simply nodded to Peter to confirm his statement, her eyes turned towards Spook. "This isn't an ordinary mutant. He was able to telepathically communicate through ten floors of solid concrete without any effort. The Council was willing to sacrifice top ranking officials in this Bunker just to have a chance to get their hands on him... Only to steal him away and not share what they know with us." Her gaze wandered to the north. Though she stared at a wall, beyond it some few miles away was the city of Chicago. "And whatever threat they represent is most poignant to us, not to the Council. This isn't just some new band of raiders, these... People... Are capable of killing entire squads all by themselves, without even being seen most of the time. We need to know more."

Whistling, Peter's teeth clenched as he offered Spook an expression that utmost concern. A thousand questions poured through his head and he wasn't sure the answer to half those could be answered without acquiring additional intelligence. Whatever reservations he held regarding the Captain's intentions had completely evaporated as he acknowledged the fact that a single mutant could achieve long distance communication and massacre whole infantry companies without effort.

Somewhere deep in the back of his head, he felt as if this was becoming more about keeping an inventory tab on who had got the biggest baddest toys on the block and why. Throughout the Bunker colonies, new technologies were undergoing field tests at any given part of the day, but exploiting latent powers from wasteland raised mutants yielded potential destruction of such a magnitude that they threatened to unleash a power upon the populace before they could even understand the consequences. The more he delved through the possible mishandling of such devastating power, the greater he saw a Bunker St. Louis repeat written over Chicago's walls. For those reasons alone, he sort of wished he'd had a chance to wolf down one of Brucey's dishes lathered in smoked tabasco sauce.

"Well I'll be damned!" he began, "So we've got wasteland mutants with uncontrollable, indirect fire capabilities and somehow the Council thinks they can weaponize this?! Heh, something tells me we need a drink before we officially go in the deep end."

His eyes strayed towards the radio attached to the Captain's waist and for a moment he contemplated whether this was all just a bad dream. Nahhhhh, he thought, I've seen worse. Then again, what they were about to do just gave the Death Watch another reason to find a little target practice. Through crossed arms, the operator's eyes darted towards the Bunker within the First Ring before inquiring, "Do we have any information about where he's being held? If we have operational knowledge to pinpoint his whereabouts, we can start outlining various insertion plans, maybe layout a couple maps, imbed several spotters, and ... coordinate possible escape routes."

Spook shook her head and muttered to herself, plenty loud enough for the other two to hear. "Fighting over dangerous muties, a night time bunker assault, fighting the damned Death Watch. Half 'who's got the bigger gun,' half dick waving contest. BCSEC sure knows how to throw a party." She sighed and spoke up more clearly. "Won't be the first time I fought for something stupid, won't be the last. Least now I know what the fuck I'm actually fighting for this time around." With that said, she wandered off to the side and leaned against one of the walls, still within earshot of Peter and Carolyn but paying no obvious attention to them anymore.

Carolyn glanced to Peter and shook her head. "I've been informed of the plans but I can't share them right this minute. You'll see why shortly. Head inside."

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but after a moment decided against it and nodded as he seized once last glance towards the Bunker itself. Rain, shine, irradiated tidal wave, they had a job to do and by morning, bodies would liter the First Ring. In the end, their conflicts were just another inkling in another brutal conflict that define the term survival of the fittest. Above all, time was the greatest and perhaps the most valuable commodity they possessed and given their limited supply, Peter could only guess how effective their achievements could stretch once they all properly pooled their resources to maximize their Military Decision-Making Process. Regardless of what happened, a historical moment within the United States was unfolding and as the Captain directed, his attention shifted as he wandered into the machine shop towards Spook. Smirking, Peter offered the Specialist a shoulder clap before quietly leaning against the wall adjacent her position.

"For the record, Spook. I'm sure glad I'm not fighting you because where ever the golden rule applies; big guns and dick waving don't mean shit if you're too dead to pull a trigger. Mutant, Beast, or Death Watch; they all bleed the same. Let's just hope they're not stupid enough to piss you off ..."
 
Through the doors of the machine shop, rumbled a small truck, cab-over truck. Old blue paint giving way to rust in some corners, and the exhaust emititng a slightly blue tint to the air, as the near derelict crawled through the busy area. Stacked on the flatbed, and lashed down carefully, were several wooden crates, emblazoned with stenciled writng, "75x585mm Ammunition - Leonne" Most of the cases having an explosive warning label slapped on them, with a secondary label, stating the explosive compound, and the ammount; the rest were pretty inert, just hardened steel AP shells for lack of time to construct anything more involved. Returning from a shop that had just finished their development work on making a custom run of ammunition for the Leonne's heaviest weapon, Blair was ready to get his quite unusual monster around the Bunker, rearmed.

He slowed to a pause however, when he noticed Carolyn working on her own mech. Jumping out of the truck, he called up to his new superior in greeting, his thick native accent of Germany permeating his voice, "Hello Hauptm-" He paused, catching himself using old terminology. He admonished himself slightly, correcting himself, "Captain Antoinette." He was somewhat cheerful, but his awkwardness with addressing a woman as his superior was there.

Carolyn looks out of her cockpit from her labour: Several small splatters of oil had recently hit her jumpsuit and hair, and upon noticing the German, the scowl of irritation quickly fades to a friendly looking smile. "Right, it's fine to call me Carolyn, we're not that regimental... We're essentially an overglorified militia." With that said, she dives back into her cockpit to continue working on it with a myriad of tools, but still yelled out a question for the German. "What do you need!"

He looked back to the truck, which idled lazily, puttering oil-tainted smoke into the workshop carelessly. Looking back up to Carolyn, he called back, "I need nothing specifically, I was wondering if you needed any assistance with your machine?" Sure, he might like to test fire the ammunition sometime today, but that could wait until after he had offered to help the woman.

Wordlessly, Carolyn motions out of her cockpit to a small pile of radio components. Interestingly enough in reports, her mech hadn't taken any damage in the fighting, and yet she felt the need to strip the entire radio system out and replace it with a new one.

Blair followed her gesture, and looked to the pile of gear, left in a somewhat haphazer mound. He looked up and was about to question what she meant, but caught himself; perhaps this was a test, to see what his skills were? He pursed his lips for but a moment in thought, before slumping back into the driver's seat. Leaving the door open, he turned the wheel and pulled out of the main path of travel that he was holding up, and into Carolyn's bay. Shutting off the engine, he climbed out once more, pulling a small tool roll out of the truck cab as he went.

Blair looked over the radio components, from the mic, to the transmitter, to the encryption box. Looking over each other in detail, looking for anything out of place, or anything faulty. Using his tools to dissemble, and his portable voltmeter to run diagnostics, checking for loose wires, faulty ground, or anything out of the ordinary. Glancing over the components, it became quickly clear that the ripped out radio system was bugged with recording and transmission hardware. It was very expensive and sophistcated, at that. After a few more moments, Carolyn peeks out from over the side of her mech's pilot apperatus. "So! Check for those once in a while. The Council of ADAM is an organization of the most paranoid people you will ever know."

Looking the bugging hardware over, he shrugs and looks back up to her, "It looks like a good amount of free, high good quality circuitry. Mind if I take it? I will salvage what I can to be used in fuzes, and other, actually useful things."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Carolyn says casually as she focuses on her own work inside her cockpit. A moment later, she peeks out again. "You'll uh... Want to be careful. Some of that is explosive if you try to take it apart, so... That's why I had to rip out the whole system it was attached to."

He blinks, and looks at it closer, "Well. You did say paranoid. Silly people though, giving us free equipment like this. Like old time christmas!" Perhaps she should be worried that the new German recruit saw trapped-bugging equipment...as a present.

"If you call Christmas constantly stripping out perfectly good components, then yes. Christmas." Carolyn stops working on her mech, leaving her equipment in the cockpit before she slips out to the ground. Though looking like a horrid mess of oil stains, the only notable part was the duct tape wrapped around her waist, elbows, and knees. She offers the recruit a handshake. "Sorry about the lack of pleasantries. It's good to meet you."

He chuckles softly, "I see it as, enforced equipment maintence rotation. Should be able to clean original parts of parts of ADAM. Then, reinstall when current system is bugged. Free parts!" He paused for a moment, while loading another component to shake Carolyn's hand, "Perhaps I add thank you note for next ADAM installer? Maybe they will appreciate forethought?"

"Ha!" Carolyn's amusement could only be contained by her annoyance at having to spend so much time fixing up her mech for non-damage related issues. "I'll leave a note asking them to speak German. Will that satisfy you?" Her sarcasm was thick, but there was no venom directed at the recruit. "Either way, is there anything I can do for you while I'm standing here instead of working on my mech?"

He pauses, rolling excess wiring around his left hand, to think about the question. A somewhat troubled look crosses his face as he slowly resumes winding the wires, "Perhaps? I know it may be beyond my position to ask, but I have been hearing rumours about what you and this unit captured, on last mission. What it was, seems to have, sparked confusions. Reports offer nothing." Struggling for a moment to find a way to ask the question, he finally gives up dancing around the subject, "What was it?"

"It was..." Carolyn starts saying, then exhales slowly. The memory was obviously unsettling. "It... Looked human, and wasn't. I felt... Like an insect. Like at any time, this otherwise normal looking man with orange eyes could just... Crush me, casually." She twirls a wrench casually in her hand, trying to keep her nerves steady.

Closing the door after placing the wire on top of the rest of the equipment, he leans against the side of the little truck and listens. "However, he did not. This troubles you?"

"A little... I'm more troubled by how spooked the council of ADAM is, and that they're keeping us all in the dark. This isn't typical. We're pawns..." She keeps twirling the wrench casually in her hand, trying to keep herself calm. "... Disposable pawns."
 
"why do you think they want me so badly... From one cage to another. I can only hope they will heed my words, before it's too late." -Adam, Page 2.

BC-SEC - Operation Truthseeker​

As the last members of the volunteers for BC-SEC arrived in the machine shop, Carolyn Antoinette turned and entered the facility. Her eyes look over the large group before her: It was mostly comprised of grunts, though the occasional mutant could be seen. There were two other pilots in small mechs, both women, though neither was remarkably well known, meaning they were both likely new recruits. As she raises her hand, the small crowd quiets, and listens carefully. Carolyn then lowers her hand and unzips her jumpsuit just enough to reach inside and grab something in a hidden inner pocket--a small black box with a red switch on it. One member of the crowd suddenly attempts to flee, only for Carolyn to hit the switch. Half a dozen small, hidden radios suddenly explode, and violently kill half a dozen men, causing the crowd to look at them with confusion and shock. Carolyn then tosses the device aside and brushes her hands off.

"There. That should take care of most of the Council's peeping toms. At least, the ones that can bark to their masters." Some among the crowd chuckle nervously as Carolyn takes a deep breath, then takes a few steps over to a table where a megaphone was present. With a simple flick of her fingers, she turns it on, though she showed unfamiliarity in its use as it squeaks momentarily from feedback and causes the crowd to flinch. Carolyn returns to the doorway of the machine shop, motioning to someone to keep an eye outside a window for something. She clears her throat, and begins speaking.

"If you've come here awaiting a valiant, long-winded speech about the righteous vindication of our cause, you're about to be disappointed." The crowd chuckles again, and Carolyn continues, now a little more confident than before. "Make no doubt, this isn't a declaration of war. We're not here to destroy the Council, and if they wanted to destroy us, they would have sent a bomber armed with a nuclear device over our heads and done it already. They can't live without us, and we can't live without them. Therefore, this isn't a fight for freedom, this is a fight for survival. They've forgotten that we're an autonomous colony, that we both deserve and demand our own independent command structures. What happens on our territory, we're informed about. Marie Black was able to save this colony from a U-ARM terrorist attack because we trusted each other. Now, however..."

Her eyes glances over members of her squad, knowing that they would have first hand experience. "...Now, they've seemed to have stumbled on something that they want to keep to themselves. Something that they loathe to share. They want to orchestrate clandestine operations without working cooperatively with the local militia. We're being used as sacrificial pawns when we're worth more than that. We're going to infiltrate that facility and rescue a subject known as Adam. Adam is a powerful mutant with access to information that we'll need to know in order to win against the impending fight with the growing, grey morass of death that is haunting the old city ruins. We are going to move against their research facilities, and my father has provided the underground map to find them."

A member of the crowd raises their hand. Carolyn points to the older man, and he asks a question. "How do we get inside without being gunned down like rats on a shooting range?" The crowd looks to Carolyn, and she smiles as she replies. "We take the freight elevator." The crowd glances at each other with confusion. The older man replies again. "Won't that just end with the internal systems alerting them to unverified use of the elevator and cause agents to swarm us?" Carolyn shrugs and leans against the door to the machine shop for her comfort. Her arms cross over her chest, as she leisurely pulls the megaphone back up. "It'd be a damn shame if the maintenance workers were lazy locals now, wouldn't it." The crowd hesitates, and then cheers, realizing what Carolyn was implying. "We're gonna fucking break in like a sea of rats and swarm the labs. We're gonna get our cheese and haul out of there without damaging the factories, and without going anywhere near the highly secured central government chambers. Then we're gonna figure out what's going on, and show these pasty, elitist, bacon-eating fucks why and how we're going to survive the impending war with God's little grey cloudy mistakes. Does that satisfy you?"

The older man nods and salutes Carolyn. Carolyn nods back. "Alright. So! The plan is simple. Most of you will remain outside and guard the freight elevator, because if we can't make a clean getaway, then everything will be a waste of time. Myself, the remainder of my squad, and a few other volunteers who were alerted as part of their note, will come with me on the freight elevator into the heart of Bunker Chicago. There, we'll move out quickly to the research labs, and split up into pairs or triplets as the situation demands. We find Adam, we liberate him, and we get back to the freight elevator. My father will meet us at the elevator, and we'll blockade the outside the Bunker, keeping them under house arrest until we get the information we need from Adam. Once that's done, we'll let the Council's goons free under the condition that they play nice in the future, or else be subject to our local laws, which would make them traitors and subject to public execution. I doubt they want that very much."

Carolyn points outside the window, which one man was still watching carefully. "Once a red flare goes off, we'll head inside. Keep in mind that anything you say on the radio will be heard by them, so we'll have to keep strictly to hand signs and vocal communication for any orders that might be comprised. There are secret phrases you may hear over the radio, those are directed strictly to those who need to know. Yes, I'm one of those people. No, I won't lord it over you all the time. The mechs should be able to navigate most of the heart of the bunker, seeing as how mechs are modified and constructed there as well as here. Now, aside from that, we should be good to go." A few seconds later, the man staring out the window points frantically and exclaims about a red flare. Carolyn shrugs and chuckles. "Well, I guess we're headed out now then. Lock n' load, don't die, and if any of you shoot civilians, Marie will execute you herself. Let's move out!"

CoA - Operation Mole Hunt​

Viper would find herself shuffled over to a gruff looking man of eastern European origin, in the main office. Ryan Dufont was leaning against his chair, wrapped in the darkness of the room save for a singular light that shined upon his desk. His feet were kicked up on the desk, in black combat boots that reminded her of the Death Watch. "Stukov," Ryan stated simply as he seemed to motion in her direction. Stukov hands her an envelope, inside was her orders: Rendezvous with Omar, Jenive, and a handful of Death Watch in a residential sector nearby. Stukov shoves her out, and she's led there by one member of the Death Watch.

As she arrives in the residential sector, she'd find Omar & Jenive there already. They had been waiting for an hour to receive the go-ahead, and Jenive had been impatiently strolling back and forth across the small room the whole time. Jenive looked relieved at the arrival of the pair: It was a simple lunch room they had been waiting in the whole time, and although there were snacks around, there was little else to do but wait. The member of the Death Watch motions for Viper to enter the room, and speaks, though his voice was muffled by the helmet he wore. "Stukov sent me to inform you that the bell tolls." The other members of the Death Watch immediately react to this, and stand up straight, ready to move out. "... Our target is General Antoinette. We are to take him in alive if possible. Failing this, we are to shoot him, and the public story will be that the militia violently murdered one of their own when he failed to betray the state."

Jenive nods, then looks between Omar and Viper. "Good to see you two make the right choice. I know this seems dirty, but I'm certain the general will be amenable to reason. If not, we can't afford the riot that his death would cause--it would destroy both the colony and us. Their ignorance is for their safety, believe it or not." She looks to the death watch, and nods, motioning for them to move out. "We follow orders, for the greater good of humanity. Best of luck and keep your heads down, I'd hate to see you get killed." Jenive seemed completely fervent in her belief, Omar would find through his lie seeking technique. The Death Watch, on the other hand, seemed to fall into two categories: Cold and obedient, or uncertain and nervous. Jenive then moves out, down a series of hallways.

It only takes a few minutes for them to arrive at a set of blast doors. Part of the facility was in lock down it seemed. Jenive shook her head. "Why delay the inevitable, general?" She mutters quietly as one of the Death Watch pulls out a cutting tool and starts burning their way through the blast door. The one that had led Viper to them seemed to be in command, as he held his rifle tightly. He was ready to kill, almost eager to kill it seemed: Getting in his way would be a poor idea. All in all, glancing at the squad, they had ten people--including themselves, making for seven of the Death Watch. Another one pulls explosives out as the Death Watch leader glances at Jenive, Omar, and Viper. "In about two minutes, we're going to blow the door open on them. I suggest stepping back before that happens."

SZ - Anima Venator​

The silent winds of the colony blow coldly across Georgia's form, as the dusk sapped away what little heat the day had brought to Bunker Chicago. She didn't have long to wait as the woman in blue stepped up behind her and grasped her shoulders. The familiar warmth seemed to run through Evelynn's fingers, keeping Georgia from feeling cold. Though she couldn't see Evelynn's face, she could feel the woman's smile, and appreciation for what Georgia was possibly sacrificing on her behalf. "I hope not to betray your trust." The woman in blue whispers in Georgia's mind, before letting go of her shoulders and motioning a few buildings down. A small, closed shop was there. "We'll go there, together. I have... A friend, of a unique nature, who will help us inside." Quietly, the woman in blue led Georgia to the shop, and simply opened the door--it was unlocked, a very strange thing for the marketplace. Once inside, Georgia would find a short, and somewhat pudgy looking woman behind the counter. She grins immediately, revealing a rather vicious looking set of needle-like teeth. Georgia was able to tell immediately: She was a mutant.

"Huldah, did you do as I ask?" Huldah shrugs and giggles, though there was a certain gurgling in the back of her throat that was unsettlingly non-human. "The Children of Sodom weren't very good at plugging the holes. There was a couple that noticed, but... They're gone now." She licks her lips and clicks her tongue, looking at Georgia. Her eyes seemed to twinkle with interest, but a single look from Evelynn caused her to back down. Georgia could feel something protective about the look, but couldn't discern the specifics. "... I see. You had no other choice?" Evelynn's inquiry was met by a cold stare by Huldah. "Adam is more important than these vicious little pests!... I don't know why he cares, and I don't know why you care." Evelynn shook her head and sighed. "We will speak on this later." Still, they had little time to waste as Huldah motions for the two to follow her out the back door.

It took a few minutes, but they arrived at the edge of the Bunker Compound. There, in the distance, they could see at least a hundred, possibly two hundred people all in the distance, marching past. Huldah motions for them to wait and hide, to let them pass out of sight first. Evelynn grasps Georgia's shoulder once more, a small look of concern within her orange eyes. "The sooner this is done, the sooner your pilot friend is safe from harm. The Council won't care about her once we have what they want." The crowd passes out of sight in the distance, and Huldah giggles with glee as she then bolts out from cover and leads them to a small building, adjacent to the Bunker itself. Inside, there were no guards, and a secret passage could be seen in the floor: A ladder, leading straight down into the compound. "I can break past the locks once we get down there. It goes straight to the First Ring... Then, we can save Adam, and... Maybe... Pick up a few lost children?" Evelynn's eyes narrow as Huldah raises her arms. "Okay! Okay! I get it, only one lost child this time! Only the one who listened! I get it, yes, right, right... Ah... I'll go first." Her eyes wander to Georgia's form, and she licks her lips once more. Evelynn shakes her head. "I'll go second." Huldah frowns and whimpers. "Ohhh... You're not fun. I wasn't going to touch anything..." Before Evelynn can glare at her again, Huldah immediately bolts for the ladder and starts the long descent into the compound. Evelynn looks to Georgia and smiles warmly. "Don't worry, she teases. She is strange, but, means only the best of intentions."

BC-SEC - Operation Truthseeker​

It took a few minutes for the large volunteer group to arrive at their destination. A large training field several dozen feet away from the front entrance, where the two guards who had stood there previously fled inside the moment they spotted the BC-SEC force arriving. Though there were a few insults thrown their way by the crowd, Carolyn remained silent as she led the group in her mech. They stopped a few feet away from the freight elevator, where a couple of jumpsuit-wearing workers slip out from behind some boxes. One of them tosses Carolyn a remote detonator as she opens her cockpit and smiles. "There's gonna be an accident today! Looks like I'll get paid overtime later. How sad, I wanted to spend next week with my kids. Oh well, good thing we installed a backup power system for the freight elevator. I mean, nobody asked for it, but, you know, the miracles of the little guy, eh'? Eh'?" Carolyn rolls her eyes and motions for the pair to flee. Without hesitation, they do. Carolyn then turns back to the group, and raises her hand in the air with the detonator. "NOW WE TELL THE COUNCIL TO NEVER IGNORE US AGAIN!" She hits the switch, and the ground underneath their feet rumbles slightly. The lights outside the Bunker short out.

Carolyn looks around at the crowd, and shouts orders. "PETER, SPOOK, BRUCEY, XAVIER, BLAIR, LIAM! YOU SIX COME WITH ME! SQUAD SEVEN, YOU ALSO COME WITH ME! SQUAD SIX, BE READY TO REINFORCE SEVEN IF EVERYTHING GOES TO SHIT! EVERYONE ELSE, KEEP THIS PLACE LOCKED DOWN!" Squad Seven approached, with about thirty men and women. They also brought a small tank, with the words "murder machine" scribbled in black on the side of it. Carolyn then steps onto the platform, and waits for the others to make themselves present and accounted for. They had a minute, and nothing more, before she would be forced to move on.

CoA - Operation Mole Hunt​

Inside the compound, as the last of the explosives was planted on the blast door, all the lights suddenly cut out. They were left in pitch darkness for a few moments before emergency lighting kicked in, and a red hue stretched itself across the hallway they were standing in. The blast door was located in the middle of the hall, on the right side, giving them plenty of cover on either side of it. The Death Watch hadn't even hesitated when the lights went out, simply continuing their work. They finished quickly, with the leader of the Death Watch squad motioning for them to take cover. "From here on out, address me as sergeant. That's not my real rank, but that's irrelevant at the moment." The Death Watch, near soundlessly, take cover. They were ready to proceed.

SZ - Anima Venator​

Meanwhile, as the trio reached the bottom of the claustrophobia-inducing ladder, the lights went out. Before Georgia could react, Evelynn immediately became protective and climbed up a couple steps of the ladder, wrapping herself around Georgia to keep her safe. Then, the red emergency lights kicked in, revealing a small crawl-way that led into the compound from where they were standing. Evelynn pats Georgia on the head, then slides down the ladder to the bottom, hesitating. "There are two guards on the other side. I could easily distract them, given the situation that was likely caused by the local militia here." Huldah chuckles and presses her hands against the metallic exterior of the crawl-way door. "Let me kill them... If you try a distraction now, they might call for help instead... Children of Sodom are unpredictable beasts." It seemed that Evelynn would get her way if Georgia didn't speak up in favour of Huldah's plan...

Manny's Lookout​

From Manny's perspective, he could see the lights go out around the Bunker compound, and the crowd that gathered there. It seemed that things were moving on without him, whether he liked it or not. Still, he could see some BC-SEC militia scattering out to impose martial law until the emergency was over--ones who weren't part of the crowd blockading the entrance to the Bunker. He could also see a small group with a mech slipping around behind the Bunker, but he couldn't discern who they were. There was a small chance he could make it there if he bolted now. He could also likely join the crowd in front of the bunker, and get assigned to a squad that would infiltrate the compound--assuming he could convince them of his intentions.
 
Brucey


---​

Brucey sat back in the cockpit of the Ignis Dei as Carolyn outlined the plan. Sparse on details in the extreme, but gods be damned if it wasn't the right thing to do Brucey reflected as he prepared himself for the events ahead. Once underway he opened a closed channel to Carolyn glad that a bug sweep had been done. "You know, if they know of your involvement... won't your Dad be a target?" Brucey asked as they left the garage for the lift.

Carolyn replied on a closed channel, sighing softly. "Yes. It's a risk he's taking for everyone here... I pray to God he'll make it, but I understand why he's taking the risk. Also, keep in mind, inside, the Council will likely break even private channels."

"True enough." Brucey responded. "I've got an idea... a perfect song, if I can rig it to blast over all the frequencies my transmitter can hit..." Brucey played Carolyn a sample of the music.

"No." Carolyn replies simply. "We need to keep the coms open. Just in case."

Brucey laughed. "Fair 'nuff, though I wouldn't mind one of those buttons you used back there. The look on that guys face was priceless. I'm not sure if he shat himself before or after."

"I'll show you later, Brucey." Carolyn replied as she did a few final checks around her cockpit.

"Well then. Time to party." Bruce finished firing up all the offensive systems. "I hope I don't have to use my main weapons... they're a little indiscriminate.... but I doubt we're going to get much choice for some reason."

"We'll see. Good luck, Brucey."

"And you, we're both going to need it before the day is out I think." Brucey admitted.

---

Reaching the target area Brucey looked at the Freight elevator with mild scepticism. He doubted it was truly intented to handle mechs of the Ignis Dei's size. He checked once more the systems of the chin-gun to make sure they were integrated and verified his own weapons. Jacko looked up and Brucey patted the wallaby. "No worries little buddy. We're doing the right thing here. Adam didn't deserve what he got."



Viper


---​

Viper listened to the fancy words dribbling from Jenvive and the Blackwatch and had her uncertainty reinforced. There was no sure thing going on here, and it was going to get ugly. If anyone here had aspirations about 'accidentally' fragging an ex-raider, now was the perfect time to do it.

"Good to see you two make the right choice. I know this seems dirty, but I'm certain the general will be amenable to reason. If not, we can't afford the riot that his death would cause--it would destroy both the colony and us. Their ignorance is for their safety, believe it or not." She looks to the death watch, and nods, motioning for them to move out. "We follow orders, for the greater good of humanity. Best of luck and keep your heads down, I'd hate to see you get killed." Jenive seemed completely fervent in her belief, Omar would find through his lie seeking technique.

"We'll see what we see," Viper said non-committal, "in this life or the next." She finished. It didn't take a mathematician or theoretical physicist to notice how few of her prior squadmates were present, Jenvive who seemed to have a hate-on for Carolyn, Omar was a crippled little beast who she'd be happy to leave out to die of exposure... and herself. And comparing herself to her present company didn't exactly prove enlightening.

---​

"From here on out, address me as sergeant. That's not my real rank, but that's irrelevant at the moment." The Death Watch, near soundlessly, take cover.

"You got it George." Viper said a wry smile at the corner of her mouth. She took cover with her XM-8 ready and the fire selector set to single-shot, "Ready and able, we'll save willing for when I know you guys better." She would have winked but her certainty she was on the right side of this was crumbled, now she rested on a knife-edge.
 
BC-SEC - Operation Truthseeker
Peter and Liam


Dust and debris kicked up through the deserted Third and Second Ring streets as boot shuffles and hydraulic pistons whirred into the night. The night progressed with relative speed given how depopulated the streets had become and most Bunker residents' reluctance to mix in the crossfire. Further ahead, BC-SEC forces moved into place, armed with their assorted arsenals to support the Operation whilst Carolyn and the other Mech elements carefully descended upon the Bunker.

Amongst the fast moving infantry elements, one infantryman wearing servos lined armor maintained formation without breaking a sweat. During each intersection and bend, he carefully maintained rear duty as the others maneuvered into the Bunker. His pouches had been outfitted with various spare magazines, grenades, smoke canisters, and assorted gears that proved necessary to accomplish the mission. He was one of the last to enter the Bunker and quickly moved towards a new along the militia's line of advance.

As a member of the militia's main infantry elements, Peter activated his Smart Vision visors to visualize and survey the battlefield as it unfolded. The integrated graphics and HUD projected icons through numerous positions to identify various members of the BC-SEC Squadrons as they moved into place. It pained him to face against the CoA, given that greater adversaries lurked within the Shadow Zone and the Irradiated Wastelands, but given the manner, in which the Council withheld critical information, there seemed no other alternative without armed intervention.

Peter wasted no time in moving from cover to cover to support the BC-SEC force's steadily advancing tempo whilst remaining within the Captain and the other mech pilots' close weapon support proximity. As the HUD kept track of the more notable members in the Captain's squad, his eyes strayed towards a newer member carrying a heavily modified rifle refitted in laser technology and a sawn-off, shotgun sidearm.

If he hadn't known any better, pre-war American energy technology development had been abandoned in favor of kinetic weapons due to high production costs. The power and potential self-sustaining ammunition proved more than their worth and served as a reminder towards the battlefield's evolving resource allocations as materials became more and more scarce. It was upon acknowledging the grunt's tertiary pack-mule modifications; Peter quietly whistled as held point nearby.

"Hey heyyyy! Looking slick, killer!" he firmly voiced as his eyes swept across the training field, "Where'd you get the walking armory?"

Liam had been working meticulously since they had set out from the machine shop. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to come with his rifle disassembled inside a duffel bag so as not to rouse suspicions, but he had thought there would be more time to prepare before leaving for their objective. Now he was forced to put it back together on the move, and the thing proved a masterful puzzle while keeping up with the advancing column.

As his fingers slid the last piece in its place, the familiar "whir" of his weapon reached his ears, and brought a slight smile to his lips. After slinging his shotgun over one shoulder he was finally prepared for his first mission with BC-SEC, and he was struggling against the nausea. In short order one of his fellow grunts came along beside him. Liam at first was at a loss for words, the only times anyone has seemed interested in his weapon dry was when they wanted it for themselves, but he decided to give this man a chance.

Glancing down at his own rifle he nearly laughed. "Uh... heh-heh one of a kind. Black business, but I scavenged destroyed outposts, and convoys for parts. Found specs early on, and parts just kind of... Well... Trickled in as time went on."

Through raised eyebrows, the Washington Native's eyes never strayed away from his designated position as he swept the perimeter for hostiles. The constant boot shuffles and mixed insults seemed typical of BC-SEC mantra, but their ability to hold their own had earned his utmost respect. Their technological ingenuity, flexible command structures, and indepth knowledge of the surrounding terrain had begun to draw attention and credibility to Chicago natives as respectable individuals. As far as standard operational procedures went, as long as they held their own they could do whatever they wanted.

"You built all that yourself?" he inquired, "Impressive! Heh, I guess the farther out you are, the better your chances you'll find the good stuff."

His rifle leveled towards with several jump-suit wearing workers as he set the fire mode to single shot and held formation in a crouched position. The Vistek HUD did its job with indicating the workers' precise locations and as one particular worker tossed what appeared to be a remote detonator towards Carolyn opening cock pit, his sights leveled upon the man. Fortunately, the exchange proved harmless and following careful deliberations, the operator's rifle lowered into the low-ready position.

"Word of the wise," he continued, readjusting the rifle stock to the pit of shoulder. His fingers fumbled to adjust the scope's night vision to properly sync with his optical visors, "Wouldn't advise going up North past Bunker Toronto. I've been through the Canadian wilds and … well let's just say that you don't want to know what's up there."

Liam chuckled slightly, bringing up his own rifle as they neared the site. "Yeah. We're real lucky out there in the world." He capped off his sarcasm with a casual roll of his eyes. "Thanks for the tip, but I'm not sure I want to know what's up anywhere. I joined BC-SEC to get inside the colony, not to explore the wasteland."

"Smart choice, soldier," he answered with a smirk, "Nothing out there to see anyways. Best you'll find out past the homesteads are mutants the size of farking dinosaurs, the ocassional bandit shithole, and god knows what else. I still can't decide who eats napalm better; a bunch of good for nothing, ammo worshipping skinnies or the mutant fark faces infesting the wilds."

Liam nodded in a stunned silence as Peter listed the various parties found out in the wastes, only serving to further solidify his own desire not to see any of it. It seemed as though the man knew what he was doing. Peter raised a hand and pointed towards the Captain as she raised the detonator above her head. Moments after her short, rallying monologue, Liam drew a quick breath to speak before a hand was raised; shortly afterwards an explosion erupted, rocking the floor in an indescribable rippling effect before the lights short circuited. As the surrounding perimeter bathed in darkness, the operator calmly flipped a trigger to switch on his night vision mode. His rifle flipped into the high ready position as he retrieved and shook his shoulder mounted radio communicator.

"Radios aren't gonna be much help this run through. Sons of bitches on the Council level's got em' bugged for surveillance," he voiced before issuing hand waving gestures and lip tapping motions, "Hand signals or voice communications only or they'll get the jump on us."

Peter flipped the fire selector switch to full auto as he heard the Captain call his name amongst the other shock troopers. "Time to move out! Keep those mags fresh on the go because we're gonna need those extra munitions for our little shit-parade!"

The die had already been cast and if Peter hadn't know any better, somewhere deep within the Bunker, the Council of Adam's Death Watch awaited their arrival. He knew better than to under-estimate the CoA's ability to deploy and field its elite ground troopers, but felt more than ready to take the fight to where it mattered most. On the flip side, the most intense training didn't count for shit if one party got the first jump. Usually balls dropped pretty quick when the defending party found themselves shrouded in steam, explosions, and red eyed demons wearing gas masks.

Likewise, that was nothing to phase the wicked and though the obstacles presented themselves, his advanced F.A.S.T. and SFOD-D training said otherwise. It was through a disciplined, professional demeanor that the Washington Operator cautiously maneuvered towards the Captain's assembling ground team as Liam listened intently to the things he had to say whilst moving in behind the advancing operator. Liam had decided that his best shot at keeping his innards inside was to follow this man. At least for the time being ...
 
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BLAIR - BC-SEC OPERATION TRUTHSEEKER​

When Carolyn pulled out the little black box, Blair smirked a little, having been of a little assistance in the rapid reverse engineering of the CoA bugging equipment of their radios. Knowing what was coming however, didn't prevent him from getting a small shower of gore when a woman, several paces to his right, found herself scattered to the four winds. He was prepared for it, instead, wiping off some of her remains with a towel he had in a small backpack slung over his shoulder. Even still, he wore a somewhat disgusted expression at needing to remove the few chunks that stuck.


At the Elevator, he waited, reclined in the cockpit of the Leonne. He could feel the slight, but reassuring tremor of the deltic diesel generator behind him. When Carolyn commanded him to join her on the platform, the Leonne surged forward, with the rather muted noise of the generator revving up slightly, to fill the increased power demand. However, Blair felt a bit trepidatious about his mech's state; entering combat with so many of his weapon systems being...absent. His 75mm cannon relying on makeshift ammunition that was expediently made, and his 35mm. The anti-personnel machineguns having been bartered off about a month ago, in New York, were most pressing at the moment. Lacking them, he was going to have to rely upon the others for effective defense against infantry amongst the innocent. Both of his weapons would cause a little too much collateral damage.​
 
Georgia Rhettland​

She had been silent much of the way since the market. She did not know how to feel. She felt somewhat at ease with Evelynn's presence but there was still tension. She was concerned for her friend and those of her squad. The Council of Adam was nothing to sneeze at. She was concerned for her friendship too. It would have to be pushed aside, though. For now, there was Evelynn's friend. She was a strange one. One who admittedly frightened Georgia more than a little. The way she glanced at Georgia, it sent prickles of fear down her spine and raised a trickle of nervous sweat. Despite Evelynn's reassurances, she was unsure if she could trust Huldah to do the right thing. The way she regarded people was vile. Of course, the way some regarded mutants was not much better. So she remains silent.

Until they run into guards.

She listens to Evelynn and Huldah with wide eyes, biting her lips before shaking her head. "Huldah, no. If they don't return to their post or don't answer when called for, it is just as likely to raise an alarm. Dead men bring more trouble when it could easily be avoided," she tries to reason. In reality, it left her uneasy that she was so quick to kill them. More violence from this strange woman. She wondered if all the other mutants were like this. So far she only had spent so much time with Evelynn. She had not really gotten to know Adam. Huldah and Evelynn were very different, indeed. She was confused, though, what made them different from herself, or if there was any difference.

Xavier Vettes​

The tightly packed machine shop was a cacophony upon his senses and it had torn at mind, leaving him with a splitting migraine. Perhaps it would not have been so bad if not for the fact Carolyn had turned several people into party poppers. The emotional tide of those all in the area had crashed into him like a tidal wave. A younger him would have been on the floor just about foaming at the mouth, unable to deal with the psychic trauma of it. He had grown a bit more accustomed to it with age, though. Not that it did not leave him wishing for a couple aspirin and a nice quiet place.

Now, though, he hardly had the luxury. He felt the prickle of nervous anticipation weighing upon him from all around as everyone flooded towards the freight elevator. He was beginning to feel a rush of adrenaline himself as he hefts his machine gun as Carolyn calls him forward. "Looks like the boss lady calls, Chaunce. Let's not keep her waitin'." He smirks as he and the shadow wolf hop onto the freight elevator and get into position.[/hr]
 
Operation Mole Hunt - Omar

Omar stayed silent through the chatter and walking. Jenive's zealous belief in the Council was almost cute, like a rabid wolf pup, and he didn't bother to agree with or debate her thoughts on the matter. He simply walked along with her, Viper, and the Death Watch, still calmly floating through the pain of walking by countering it with the pleasure derived from being able to do so without a limp and a cane, though he had it with him anyway, largely out of force of habit.

They made it to their destination without incident, though the lights going out wasn't exactly a good sign. He chalked it up to Carolyn making her move, probably blowing something up to get inside. Omar was heading over to take cover with the Death Watch grunts when he heard their leader speak, then a woman's snarky reply. He'd been determined to ignore the ex-raider woman's presence through this mission, but when she spoke up he couldn't help but give her a little verbal jab. "Play nice, Sharkmouth. Giving people unwanted nicknames is rude." He flashed a sneering smile in her direction, not really caring if she could see it or not in the dim emergency lights, and took up a place along the wall between two of the hulking soldiers; both of them seemed solid like their leader, not nervous like some of their rank, and he'd rather be by the steady guys if shit went down. "Ready whenever you are, sergeant."

Operation Truthseeker - Spook

Carolyn's little explosive surprise drew a shocked gasp from Spook, though she got herself under control quickly. She'd seen all manner of gore and violence out in the wilds in her raider days, but she'd never really gotten used to seeing people die up close. Avoiding that was the main reason she'd learned to use a sniper rifle, after all. Shows she's damned ruthless,/ Spook thought to herself. Don't wanna make an enemy of her, that's for damn sure.

She kept to the fringe of the group as they marched off to their destination, ostensibly acting as a scout but truthfully just avoiding being around so many people at once. Three years living in Chicago hadn't been enough to make her comfortable with large crowds, and at this point Spook doubted if that would ever change. She edged back toward the pack as they neared the destination, and she was among those who watched silently as the guards were chased off and Carolyn took charge of their entry. When her name was called, Spook wasted no time in getting on the elevator, staking out a position for herself in one of the back corners.

Since there probably wouldn't be another chance, she took a moment to make sure her gear was in order. Spook left her favored sniper rifle slung over her shoulder and instead readied the assault rifle she'd been given upon joining BC-SEC; she'd had her own before, but it was an old pile of crap compared to the new one, so the switch hadn't been hard. The gears in her cybernetic right arm whirred quietly as she did a once over check of the gun, making sure everything was as she wanted it. She'd only kept two things from her old gun, the magazines of electrified rounds and an electrified bayonet, and both of those were in place and ready to go. She doubted they'd make much of a difference that mundane arms when being used against normal humans, but there was no reason to take a chance. Satisfied with her weapon, Spook hunkered down and waited for the action to start.

Omar takes cover and readies his pistol.

Spook gets on the elevator and readies her assault rifle (with electrified rounds/bayonet in place).
 
"Autocrats do not like inconvenient truthes... Like the mysterious appearance of an enemy that does not sleep, does not breath, and does not eat, that believe itself a God's messenger... And if they do not listen, God's messenger will bring to bear weapons that even I struggle to comprehend in sheer maddening power." -Adam, Page 2.

BC-SEC - Operation Truthseeker​

It didn't take long for the group to assemble on the freight elevator. Squad Seven stopped and waited, as they would descend next on the freight elevator to hold the ground floor. The freight elevator starts without further adieu, and the group begins to descend into the compound, at a slow pace. About halfway down, the elevator underneath them shakes, and Carolyn closes her cockpit. "Well, that was unsettling." Carolyn mutters to herself inside her cockpit as, after a couple more minutes, the elevator reaches its destination inside the facility. Carolyn is the first to step off the platform, and looks around with mild confusion: There should have been at least a couple of guards, and yet, nobody was present. It was in the midst of a receiving bay, giving the mechs plenty of space to move around, though they would have to go single file once they entered the four corridors which spanned in each direction from the receiving bay: North, South, East, and West. Red emergency lights covered the bay, giving a dim environment to fight in, and bathing everyone in red.

Carolyn pops open her cockpit and taps her mech's foot to get everyone's attention. She turns on her cockpit's internal lighting so everyone can get a clear view of her hands. Sweat was clearly visible on her forehead: This was not a very ideal lighting situation for either side, and only narrowly gave their side an advantage on the offensive. She uses hand signs to motion for Brucey to lead the way down North hall, ordering Xavier & Chaunce and Spook to follow him. Before she can issue further orders, gunfire and yells could be heard nearby from the East hallway. Carolyn takes a deep breath, and motions for Blair to take the lead down the east corridor, with Peter and Liam to cover his feet--since they could shoot around his legs. She would follow up the rear on the eastern path, though she motioned for everyone to be cautious.

Her cockpit seals shut as she exhales and tries to keep her nerves steady. Her father would need her to be ready for what was to come. After all, the north led to the classified science & engineering labs--hopefully, it would be unlocked as promised. The east led to her father--assuming they could reach him in time. In these conditions, there was no doubt they would be after him, but he was farther than the labs. Taking a few deep breaths, she waits for the Leonne to take the lead.

CoA - Operation Mole Hunt​

The sergeant makes not even a subtle suggestion of acknowledging their responses, as Jenive takes position. A few seconds pass, and then, a violent explosion sends the sealed doors off their hinges and into the room. As the door is sent off its hinges, a pair of flash bangs thrown by the Death Watch in eerily perfect synchronization follows it. The flash bangs go off, leaving a mild buzzing in their ears as the sergeant immediately leads his men inside the room. The Death Watch moved faster than Omar, Viper, and Jenive, sweeping the entire room by the time the trio could even move to positions to see inside it. Four men laid dead, blood seeping from their corpses onto the metallic floor, with only one man remaining standing from the opposing forces.

The interior of the room was lavish, likely being the general's personal room to conduct operations and plans from afar. It was open, with no source of cover, and the metallic doors had crushed the general's desk. General Antoinette looked upon the Death Watch with a cold stare, though his look grew colder upon spotting Omar and Viper. "You're on the wrong side in this." The sergeant makes a simple movement with one of his hands, and one of the members of the Death Watch forces the general onto his knees. He raises his rifle to the general's head, though doesn't pull the trigger. As the sergeant reaches for his radio to ask for further orders, the entire compound shakes for a second time. A few seconds later, the intercom system comes online...

Entire Facility - Intercom​

"This is Ryan Dufont to all BC-SEC intruders and Death Watch personnel: A third and presently unknown force has broken into the facility... I would implore BC-SEC forces to consider ceasing and desisting to unite against this second force."

Carolyn's voice comes clearly through the intercom system. How she had tapped into it was anyone's guess, but it was a public channel, so it wasn't difficult to guess that she simply ascertained the radio frequency and used it accordingly. "All the more reason for us to reach Adam, before something happens to him."

"It doesn't care about you! Put aside this civil dispute and help us stop this third force!"

"Will you grant us access to Adam?"

"You know I can't do that without Council authority first, but I'll be sure to implore and curry all my favours with the Council for you to allow access soon if--"

"If we roll over and give up? No. We'll keep Adam safe from this third force, if you tell your men to stand down."

"I can't do that, and you know I can't. You don't have the necessary equipment to keep him from simply running from you."

"You'd be surprised what we can do when you trust us..."

"... It's unfortunate that we're on opposite sides in this. I'll try to save your father, Carolyn."

"Don't worry, I'm coming for him too."

"... Good luck."

The intercom system cuts out, the speakers having been cut from power--likely to prevent Carolyn from getting any further responses in.

SZ - Anima Venator​

Georgia's vehement disagreement with Huldah's tactics is noticed by her, and she recoils in surprise. Evelynn shakes her head and motions for her to stay behind with Georgia. "We don't kill unless we have to." She looks back Huldah and sighs. "I know what they did to you, but not all of the Children of Sodom are like that." Huldah crosses her arms and leans back against the cold, metallic wall. "And that is why we're just asking to get Adam back, yes?" Evelynn doesn't respond to that, instead going into the crawl space. For the minute or so that the two were alone, Huldah cleared her throat and looked over to Georgia, attempting to smile comfortingly, and only coming across creepily. "Sorry, I'm sorry. Sorry." The apology seemed only halfway sincere, as though she were trying but finding it difficult to understand what she was even apologizing over.

Then, both of them feel a pull by Evelynn to enter the crawlway. On the other side, the two guards were missing, and dim red light flooded the small, white laboratory. It had a clear glass wall view out into a corridor, and the lab itself had two test subject tables. It seemed as though both had been used recently, though likely for mundane tests. Georgia would recognize them as the kinds of tables used to strap down people who would otherwise violently thrash in pain.

Before the trio could get moving, the intercom comes on, and the dispute between Carolyn and Ryan is heard by them.

Huldah looks to Evelynn with worry, though Evelynn shakes her head. "No, that's not us. They're referring to someone else." Huldah growls with uncertainty, instinctively arching her back and bending her knees as she looked around and sniffed the air, like an animal. "Too many to be a coincidence. They're all after Adam. Can you make contact?" Evelynn concentrates for a moment, then a frown crosses her face. Georgia would feel worry and sorrow emanating from Evelynn, instead of the usually calming aura. "No." Evelynn then looks around the room, spotting a nearby computer. It was still online--likely as a defensive measure to preserve any data from corruption in the event of a power loss. Evelynn then looks to Georgia with a smile, and Georgia could feel hope fill Evelynn's aura. "You're able to interface with computers, are you not? Use that one to break into security to find out where Adam is. We'll be here to protect you."

CoA - Operation Mole Hunt​

The Death Watch glance up to the ceiling when the intercom conversation occurs. The sergeant then taps the side of his helmet, accessing a private ear piece for encoded communications. Omar could feel a sense of surprise from the sergeant, but otherwise, he remained stalwart. He glances to Omar, Jenive, and Viper, and shakes his head. "Prisoner is all yours, bring him back to Ryan. If he tries to run, shoot to kill and don't hesitate. He won't hesitate to kill you if he gets the chance--you're traitors in his eyes." The Death Watch then leaves the group, unceremoniously moving further down the hallway. From the way they were switching their ammo type from armour piercing to high explosive, Viper could discern that there was something big they were aiming to take down.

That left just Jenive, Omar, and Viper with General Antoinette. He stands up from his knees, brushing off his sleeves with a cool veneer, though Omar could feel and Viper could see that the general was genuinely concerned for his own life, and the only thing keeping him together was his training. "It's not too late to do the right thing." Jenive looks at the general with sympathy, but shakes her head. "We are doing the right thing. You heard Ryan, there's more intruders here. We can't leave you to run around the facility on your own--you'd only get yourself killed now." The general snorts at the the statement, before glancing to Omar and Viper--though Viper especially. He seemed to notice her doubt. "I'm not talking about going it on my own, I'm talking about taking you with me. We can stop this blood shed if we go to Ryan's office and take him prisoner--think about it. Then we can all learn what Adam knows." Jenive rolls her eyes. "Do you think I'm stupid? I know this ploy. We'll learn more about Adam when it becomes relevant for us to know. The knowledge he has is enough to cause the ignorant masses to panic and cause devastation to this place as they scramble to leave it, rather than fight for it." The general raises an eyebrow. "How much are you willing to bet on that?" Jenive doesn't hesitate in her response. "My life, sir--and I'm trying to stop you from betting the whole colony on an ideological view that didn't stop the planet from obliterating itself in nuclear hellfire. Now please don't force me to take yours--we're going to lose enough good men on both sides over this."
 
Manny sighed as he took another look out the window, his binoculars were showing a bit of movement. It seemed the BC-SEC people were finally going to make their move. He had figured the second they started imposing martial law the death squads would start coming out shooting everybody. But instead it seemed like they were gonna dig in the heart of the Bunker and dare the BC-SEC forces to come in after them. He didn't know Carolyn that well (at all) but he guessed she had a big enough pair to take that dare guns blazing.

He threw his binoculars in his back pack and ran out buckling the straps onto his shoulders, seemed like the street fighting was going to be minimal at most. He didn't want to second guess himself anymore, if he really didn't want to get involved he would have just left for the country-side. He decided that he would either leave entirely or get his hands dirty. He honestly would have preferred leaving- it was habitual after all. But that option was no longer valid; all the gates would certainly be barred by now. There was also this nagging thought in his head that spurred him to go out instead of hide, though he tried his best to ignore it.

Already down out the building and running past two blocks, he could see small pockets of BC-SEC rushing citizens into their homes. He was thankful that none were stopping him, though at this point a few probably recognized him as "that old weird guy" or whatever. He slows his pace to a brisk when he sees the crowd start to divide and descend down the freight elevator, Manny missed his mark. He curses to himself before shrugging it off. If this all blew over and everything came out alright, he knew Carolyn would chew him out big time and he certainly deserved it. On the other hand, since he wasn't involved the Council wouldn't be aiming an eternal reticle at the back of his head. At least not immediately.

It seemed like he was truly on his own; no one to give him orders or tell him what the stakes were. The inner rebellious teenager gleamed at such a thought. The rational 30-something year old man though realized that he was basically trapped in a concrete box in the middle of a "major civil dispute", a little bit of guidance probably would help now.

He could go back to his hiding spot, it wasn't too far away. But he wanted to scout out the city for now; stick to alleyways and the various nooks and cracks of the city in case random fighting broke out. Maybe he could find out some information that Carolyn would like to hear so that he wouldn't come to her completely empty handed. He got out his map and began his little trek.

Stay low, avoid confrontation, collect info, observe gunfire from a safe distance if anything breaks out. That was the plan

Defend yourself. That was also part of the plan.
 
Brucey: Operation Truthseeker


Brucey turned up his external speakers as he keyed on the song that appealed to his sensibilities. The North Corridor faced him and he shunted power to the Servos as he swept the corridor with the chin turret. His other weapons were also fully powered, but would only be used against another mech or a situation where there were clearly no innocents in the way.

"Xav, Chaunc, keep close to my legs, but not too close. If we get swarmed get AWAY from the legs." The sight of the ERA armour should make it clear what meant by it. Brucey patted the Wallaby on the head. "C'mon Jacko, let's do the right thing." He moved into a stride a walking person could comfortably meet.



Viper: Operation Molehunt


"Oh do shut up Jenvive, fanatacism gets nobody anywhere." Viper snarled. "Let's just get to Ryan's office, because regardless of all other considerations it's going to be a primary objective." The venom in her voice wasn't disguised. It was one thing to pick a side, it was quite another to follow it with slavish devotion. Any willing to die to prove a point deserved to be escorted off the mortal coil.

"Come now... sir.." She said keeping her weapon steady and level. You have an appointment with Ryan's office. It would be a shame if you didn't make it." She said with an icy tone. But doing nothing to hide the doubt in her mind. It didn't help that the only other two who apparently sided with her was a ridiculous fanatic and a mutant cripple.
 
[BCOLOR=#ffffff]Peter "Cottonmouth" Tao[/BCOLOR]​


The ride through the lift proved uneventful, however, given how quickly the tables turned, discipline and experience taught the operator to maintain perimeter defence along the elevator until they'd reached their destination. The red lights bathing the receiving bay proved enough for the operator to deactivate his night-vision whilst strictly reserving the HUD display to a confined, basic functions role in an effort to save battery life. It remained to be said how they quickly they would sweep the inner Bunker in their search for Adam and General Antoinette; however, given concerns the concerns for the Bunker's Industrial manufactories, the emphases to limit the collateral damage weighted heavily on their abilities to preserve the First Tier's critical assets.

The lift's descent proved as much and as the strike team descended, Peter couldn't help giving out the Bunker Chicago engineers a hats off to the inner levels' sophistications as well as how thoroughly they'd designed the loading bays. Amidst the distant gunfire and back and forth radio banter, the sense of pride that surfaced proved incredibly exhilarating as he stared in awe. Save a one time glance into Bunker Washington's first tier, it was the closest he'd ever come to Bunker Chicago's inner-workings. He highly doubted that even the most technologically advanced European Warlords could rival the architectural marvels, in which Bunker Chicago's reinforced R&D standards housed. Not even the fabled Northern Rhine Confederacies or the Parisian – Maginot Duchies could rival such security or foundational prowess.

Shortly after reaching the ground level, the Captain immediately issued orders that split the team into two directions. To his most pleasant surprise, the grunt he'd met earlier paired alongside him to accompany their lead mech operator through the East corridor. Peter quickly flicked the night-vision switch along his Smart Vision Visor, set his rifle to full auto, and flashed Spook, Brucey, and the others a nod before maneuvering cautiously to reach a safe support location behind the Leonne's right leg ...
 
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