Scene #7054: Casino Royale

Owner	Pose
James Bond	ROYALE-LES-EAUX It's late--very late, perhaps past two in the morning. Outside, it's pitch black. Between Nova's support crew salvaging a letter signed 'G' from the wreck of the Ellipsis, Amelris discovering a fake passport and apparent hideout for Le Chiffre, the Watch has provided some damning evidence. Because of this, there is good news and there is bad news. The good news is that after a long, late night of foiled assassination attempts and sabotage, the high-stakes game ended with no immediate explosion of action. Pushkin states that he can have agents there by sunrise. The bad news is that this town is lousy with spies. Le Chiffre is a flight risk--if not by the van that Amelris totaled, then possibly by striking a deal with one of the agents here for amnesty, or by some other means. In his last comminication with the Watch, Pushkin requested Le Chiffre should be watched closely until then. In other words... no rest, yet. Le Chiffre left shortly beforehand, but this was to be expected. He did lose in spite of cheating, after all. Locals sympathetic to the Watch have surrpetitiously sent in reports through the usual methods. They report Le Chiffre's movement, three or four sightings. They show a pattern, heading towards the bottling plant. This, too, was to be expected. With his primary means of escape trashed, you have some time to prepare. Still, you shouldn't take too long--it's a very good idea to have eyes on Le Chiffre. The compound is on high alert, when you arrive. They're smart enough not to be shining lights everywhere, but even in the darkness you can spot shadowed guard patrols. They are numerous, and unlike last time, some of the guards appear to be women. These in particular seem almost military, wearing dark fatigues that blend in with the night air. There is a tow truck parked which doesn't belong to the Eau Royale company. Still hitched to it is a grey Aston Martin DB5. It has been badly damaged. In the dim light of the moon you can see scoring and dents indicating the car was rolled. Parts of the chassis are torn wide open or completely missing from the impact. The patrols are designed to cover the whole plant, but the most heavily guarded area is the truck depot. They hear it, a few moments after they arrive--a man screaming. None of the guards seem concerned by it, but he sounds agonized. Sure enough, it sounds as though it's coming from the depot.
Nova Terra	Nova had left the casino quickly after the game ended. A quick stop by her accommodations to change and she's out into the night once more. This time wearing not a dress, but a suit. Her hostile environment suit. But as she makes her way through the city, she doesn't end up at the bottling plan. Nova instead is at church. Yes, you read correctly. Specifically, up in the holy building's bell tower, lying on the wooden platform just beneath said bell. Her Canister Rifle is in her hands, stretched out in front of her. She tilts her head to look down the scope, sighting in on the bottling plant in the distance. The angle is not the best, but it'll do. Through the green of the nightvision mode, Nova looks over the guards she can see, but doesn't fire just yet. After all, she's coordinating with allies in this. Speaking of which... Nova radios in, "This is Nova. I'm in position for long range fire support. And I have a squad of my Marines ready to move when things get hot." True to her word, a squad of a half dozen large men in black power armour are currently positioned behind a building just out of view of the bottling plant. Called in by Nova as she left the casino. They're holding position, waiting for the order to charge in.
Tetra	Lousy with spies indeed; two of Zelda's guards have been dispatched to snoop on events around the casino, and one returns to report Bond's car crash and his date's very unusual exit in the aftermath, toward the bottling plant. Zelda--now Tetra--is strapping on her chestpiece when the news arrives through Serene, on guard outside her hotel room. "Damn," she murmurs. "Things have gone hot quicker than I expected... all right. I'm going. You and the others stay here, keep an eye on things in the casino. Stay in contact, please." Dame Galia looks somewhat uncomfortable, but nods. "Yes, milady." With that, Tetra dons her sword and bow, pulls the hood of her cape over her head to shield her from the rain, and departs through her third-floor window. Several minutes later, she's In view of the bottling plant, crouched among the foliage near the entrance being approached by the others. She nocks a pair of arrows, unenchanted, and looses them at once--each aimed for the heads or necks of the guards nearest to the entrance.
Amelris Belthrone	Amelris Belthrone is conflicted on this. On one hand, yes, he busted something very important there. On the other hand, it was somewhat by accident by attempting to do something else. He caused a pileup and he put up that place on high alert, now. Plus, he think he bruised his tail. It hurts. A lot. He feels this is mostly positive, however. Amelris is hidden off in the back with the rest of people in holding position, the red mage wearing some darker red hues and having gotten some dressing up of his accident wounds, is getting himself ready, crouched in the vast foilage in the French forest, talking to his compatriots in linkpearl. "Alright. We have things in sight. We'll be ready to go when everyone's done the okay. We go in to clear, sneak up closer and then we blast out to close in the distance. Their firearms are dangerous. So be careful on that front." Amelris tightens his hat around his head, reaching for his rapier, tapping in the Linkpearl. "We're ready go to in."
Deelel	The operation continues so far things have gone well enough that they are still in the running to succeed. Yet the Watch needs to, as it were close the deal. Puskin notes they have agents on their way and they will make it to the town by dawn. So they need to catch the target and get him back to his nation's operatives. Which will finish the deal the Watch has made with Puskin. Thankfully some locals who are sympathetic to the Watch have given them information on where Le Chiffre might be. Thanks to her allies efforts destroying Le Chiffre's main means to getaway? Deelel has had time to make ready and prepare. A plan has been made and Deelel is in a lightsuit, her helmet is on and she has a cloak on to hide most of her light lines. It's not so much to hide who she is, more just to hopefully allow her to get into position. With Nova and her marines are on back up. While Deelel is on the front team alongside Amelris. "Got it." She will ready herself to go in once the heavies with them such as N'Raha make the way in.
N'Raha	"Finally something that isn't bloody sneaking around and gin fizzes." N'raha had been doing field medic work on Amelris when they spotted the rest of the carnage. Not only that van but also... well. There's a lot of activity now. And with Nova on overwatch, N'raha feels much more comfortable with what he's about to do. He settles in next to Amelris, and starts to undo his tie, and take off his hat. And with each piece of clothing he fiddles with, another piece of armor magically slides into place around him, the glamours fading until all that's left is a dull red suit of heavy armor, the helmet the last thing in place. "Promise not to lose myself, but still. Hit me if I get too rowdy?" And then there's a dull gathering of magic around the catman, as he builds up a full head of aether... and then he charges at the main gate, his ax sliding into his hands and coming around to shoulder tackle the gate off it's hinges.
Alruna Greengate	Alruna opens her canteen and pours it over her face, gasping as ice-cold water splashes on her. "Hrrgh!" There, /that's/ woken her up. Getting a call from Amelris to come and help at this hour is less than convenient, but that's what friends are for. Particularly when you hear a blood-curdling scream like that... She blinks a few times, wiping her face off. "I'll have your back." she promises N'raha, settling her shield on her arm and getting ready. Red plate mail is contrasted by green - now there's /two/ walking battering rams on the job. Alruna sets herself, drawing her sword and charging after N'raha. The depot is the most heavily guarded section of the plant, she's told. Then that means they'll have most of the guards' attention immediately. Alruna wastes no time in getting within striking range of the closest guard to eliminate the ranged advantage their guns give them.
James Bond	The light is on the marines' side--they can hunker down on the hill and stay just out of sight of the guards. No one appears to have spotted Nova in the bell tower, either. Tetra's arrows fly through the air. The benefit of arrows is that they are much more quiet than firearms. Fwip, fwip. A muffled grunt escapes each guard by the door. They both fall in tandem. It was a good shot--but it's only a matter of time before one of the other guards notices it. Amelris outlines a plan. When Raha crashes through the gate, and Deelel and the others follow behind, they'll see that the closest entrance is the one formerly guarded by the two men Tetra's arrows dispatched. Having been the one to go the loudest, Raha draws most of the fire--and there is assuredly that. Alruna charges in behind him, attacking the guards at close quarters. Some of the male guards put up a fight, but the female guards act as if they were trained for it. They're ex-military, or perhaps mercenaries. Nova's marines can provide enough cover fire to drive the rest of the guards into cover, buying just enough time to enter into the depot. The quiet won't last long, but they've handled a not insignificant portion of Le Chiffre's forces. All that remains now is to find the man himself, and it sounds as though he's in conversation--between the screams of another man. And, every now and then, that of a woman, coming from further in. It's easy to follow the sound of his talking...
James Bond	EARLIER - WATCH ARRIVAL ETA 5 MIN. "Wow," chuckles Le Chiffre, as he paces around Bond. "You've taken good care of yourself." The dark-haired man has been stripped completely. He sits, hands and legs tied, in a wicker chair with the bottom cut out, surely uncomfortable in itself. Le Chiffre, still wearing his evening suit, face damp with sweat, carries a heavy bit of industrial rigging from the harbor. One end is tied in a thick knot. "What a waste," says Le Chiffre, whispering into Bond's ear. The knotted end of the rope is dropped over his shoulder in an effort to intimidate Bond. Le Chiffre then drags it off of Bond's shoulder and strikes beneath the chair with it. Bond groans in pain, but remains locked in place without attempting to struggle. "Perhaps I should explain." Le Chiffre draws it back in. Twirls it, pacing slowly in a circle. "I intend to continue attacking the sensitive parts of your body until you tell me... where the money is," says Le Chiffre, pausing to loosen and remove his bow tie. "I am without mercy and there will be no relenting. It's the simplest thing--to cause more pain than a man can possibly endure," he says, stuffing it into his coat pocket. He strikes Bond again with the rope, winding up for a vicious underhanded swing. It strikes with a grisly, whiplike sound, which draws a stifled shout from Bond. "And of course, it's not only the immediate agony," continues Le Chiffre, removing his coat to hang it on a rusty hook in the disused depot. "But the knowledge that if you do not yield soon enough, there will be little left to identify you as a man. Will you yield in time?" Le Chiffre pulls up a rickety step ladder, using it as an impromptu stool to sit before Bond. He slaps Bond's bloodied, bruised face. "I want the money." He gets no answer. As promised, the torture resumes. But no matter the strength of Le Chiffre's swing, no matter how agonized Bond's screams are, he doesn't relent. Not even when Le Chiffre kicks his chair over, draws his butterfly knife, and threatens to feed Bond what he seems not to value. NOW That sight--Le Chiffre looming over a stripped, beaten man with knife in hand--is what greets the party as they push into the depot's garage. That, and...
Big Boss	Stalker Bloodhound's done well, but he's no longer needed for this leg of the mission. He'll be needed later. Right now, it's time for Silent Jackal, stealth expert, to get to work. In his black bodysuit with custom balaclava, two pistols at his side, a silenced assault rifle on his back, and a series of high-tech grenades on his belt, the Outer Heaven operative, is shifting out of the shadows near the compound, as everyone moves to make a distraction for him. Radio being listened to carefully, he pulls out his high-tech thermal binoculars and starts looking for those hidden in the darkness, and paths to avoid them inside. If the plant is multiple stories, or has rafters, he wants to climb to the top, approaching where those screams come from. Le Chiffre isn't the goal. The others can handle that. Yet, Le Chiffre is over Bond. This will be too chaotic. Bond can wait. Where is Mathis, he wonders. His binoculars scan around the area, searching for him, as Silent Jackal remains perfectly still. It's time for a stealth mission.
The Janitor	... and That Cleaner, leaning against an industrial wall as if on smoke break, and utterly apathetic to the cringe-inducing torture happening right in front of her. She doesn't intimidate or encourage or lift a finger in mercy. Her job- one might get the sense- isn't to assist, but oversee. Here, ostensibly away from prying eyes, she makes no pretenses at being anything other than what she is. The gray coveralls and gray flat cap she wears don't imitate any real job's uniform. They're just the blandest possible for the blandest possible human being; her comfortable second skin. Next to her is an old-fashioned cassette recorder, whirring softly as it soaks up Bond's screams and sobs. Le Chiffre may not like the idea of being on tape, but what's he going to do? There's a half-empty bottle of lukewarm water in her hand. She's just been slowly sipping at it, letting the plastic crackle quietly under her fingertips. Not the local flavor; just something depressingly generic. When Bond's allies arrive, she rolls her shoulders with a rustle-crack of canvas and bone, steps forward off the wall, and carefully sets down her water bottle- an ordinary human being in every respect, yet utterly unintimidated by the assorted heroes. This is something reptilian and cold; it's the banality of evil in human form; it's Cain lying to the face of God. "You're running out of time," she says to nobody in particular. Her toes kick a large floor tile, a casual movement that turns into the first step of an ugly dance: it pops loose and flips into the air, where she catches it by the edge and throws it like a windpipe-crushing frisbee to scythe through the hero crowd. The logical response to that is to hit the deck. She anticipates that too. Pulling a screwdriver out of her pocket, she jabs it into a stack of bottle pallets that scrapes the ceiling. Somehow, by some uncanny intuition, she strikes the exact right point to send the entire tower of bottles falling like a Jenga tower towards the heroes, right on top of where they may have dived to safety, aiming to crush them under its weight. Without taking even a second to appreciate her own handiwork, she reverse-grips the screwdriver like a misericorde and wades through the pile of toppled bottles in search of anyone she can stab while they're down.
Gideon Kaspar	The guards are hit from stealth. The heroes charge in through the gate. Two men go down from arrows, many others scatter. One of the women, in sketchy, seemingly ex-military clothes, is knocked away from the onward charge, tumbling over the ground. In the low light, it's only possible to see up close. There is no patch on her uniform. No identifying marks. It's a burner. They're all burners. The cut in her arm doesn't bleed. All of them look completely identical. In barely a second, every other one of the female 'guards' turns their attention inwards. They come rushing from their posts around the perimeter of the building, moving at unnatural speed, weaving through and vaulting over warehouse obstructions to bottleneck the rescue brigade on both sides. Suppress submachine guns fly up to shoulders as if magnetized by the stocks. Ghostly puffs of smoke and flickers of sparks rattle across the entryway from either side. Bullets buzz like hornets through the air, far too close for comfort. Where they strike the dirt, it geysers. Where they hit barrels and pipes, they punch right through and continue out the other side. Moving smoothly, silently, they round up behind the group, four covering the entrance and another four sent out to the exits, without hand motions or speaking. Sight up. Burst. Burst. Snap down. Advance. Cover. Sight up. Suppressing fire. Leapfrog. Reload. Staggered advance. Sight up. The first words that are finally heard from one of the identical girls is her tap to the radio. "Commander, we're confirming tangos in the delivery zone. No tangos on no-KIA list. Requesting Anti-Rain support immediately."
N'Raha	The floor tile comes flying in at N'raha and no, no he does not duck. The ax comes up and around to block, as best it can, but that leaves bottles to come crashing down on him... And still he stands. The Tank is here. He roars, red energy coalesing around his body, his armor dented and scratched and he's in the zone. "COME ON. This ends here!" He takes the stab the way he takes a lot of things, right up the middle, but still he doesn't break. There's a very angry look in the tank's eyes, as he swings the Bravura around to try and catch the Janitor in the side of the head. "You have been nothing but a PAIN."
James Bond	Mathis isn't far. Having followed Vesper, he's consequently followed the French double agent. She hasn't left his side--though not in a pleasant way. She seems as if she is both complicit and a hostage. It's her voice that occasionally screams from within the base, alongside Bond's. The chaos caused by the entrance of N'Raha, Alruna and the others drags guards off of patrol routes, takes eyes off of side entrances. Silent Jackal can easily find a route to cut across the plant's yard. From there, a disused window on the side of the depot will allow him entry. The creak of the rusty hinge is drowned out by the din of battle and shouted orders. He finds himself in an office, perhaps in more prosperous times this would've been a middle manager or foreman's office--someone in charge of the drivers. It's covered in dust. There haven't been enough drivers to justify a separate manager in some time. Jackal can hear Vesper's voice. And Mathis'. They're close--just a few doors down the hall. Definitely in the same building. When he locates the double agent, Mathis' back is to him. "Apologies, my dear," he says like a doctor comforting a child after a shot. One of Le Chiffre's men is in the room with them. Vesper looks as if she's been struck, perhaps even cut. "But if Bond doesn't believe you're in danger, he wont' give up the money, you see..." Bond hasn't given up anything, even with her 'in danger.' Something to note, should Outer Heaven ever need to hold or interrogate him.
Nova Terra	Nova's Marines follow the initial breach group, rushing in behind them. A couple even crash through the walls in order to enter, because they can. And it saves on all of them bunching up at the door. Their gauss rifles raised, they begin to return fire against the guards, metal spikes shooting out. One of them shouts out orders to the others, coordinating the advance. Meanwhile, Nova calmly lies in her sniping spot, looking through her scope. As her Marines barge in, a wireframe of the interior appears over the exterior. Her troops' systems reporting what's happening inside. Through it, Nova watches the fight proceed. She doesn't feel like it's time yet for her to take action, the others are doing a fine job. As the Terran Marines bust into the room where the interrogation is taking place, Nova presses a few buttons on her scope, bringing up a gun camera feed from one of them. She actually chuckles as she sees Bond's predicament, "Well, that looks uncomfortable... I'm going to have to remember that one." As she's watching the scene play out, Nova notices the remaining guards moving from their positions to head inside. Though they're moving quite unusually. Not what Nova would expect from regular people. This could be troubling... Nova's Marines are soon caught under fire from those SMG wielding identical women. Most of the rounds aimed at center mass don't manage to penetrate, though they do dig into the heavy power armour the Marines are wearing, causing some damage. Those bullets that strike at limbs seem to do better, reaching inside and causing grunts of pain from the soldiers. They quickly form up together, starting to lay down suppressing fire on the identical women. From her position, Nova can see things getting more heated thanks to the information relayed back to her. She's frowning a little at the movements of those women... Tch. Definitely not normal. Using the feed from her Marines, she sights in on one of them and pulls the trigger. The suppressed sound of the gunshot probably won't be heard by those currently fighting within the factory given all the chaos. But the result will be easily seen as the large 25mm round penetrates through a wall on course for one of those girls.
Deelel	This is not what Deelel was quite expecting and she's paused for a half-second as she beholds Le Chiffre hovering over a beaten man with a knife in hand. She is hanging back behind her allies. There is no way this could get worse right? Yet it deoes as the Janitor shows up. If one were to glance at the Janitor? They would seem a normal person, and not threatening. It's how she carries herself, that is where the horror is. It's the sort of things Deelel's only seen a few times in her long life. Then comes the attack she's going. The only thing that saves her from the initial attack from the Janitor, is she wasn't in the front part of the breathing team. She dodges falling bottles rolling away and rising back up, just ar more trouble makes itself known to the Watch Operatives. The female 'guards' prove to be a threat in their own right as they close in already making for their weapon and closing in on them. Round are flying and Deelel is a force to back off for a moment. She pulls the disc off her back it's edge snap hisses to life and she'll throw the weapon trying to bounce it off some of the pipes and have the ricochet go for one of the strange guards. Whoever these woman are they are very skilled, traine and clearly deadly.
Tetra	Tetra speeds in with the group, confronting the Janitor with sword in hand. The midair tile sends her diving to the deck, indeed, a prime target for the cascade of bottles. She's caught right underneath it, in a considerable amount of pain now. But she's far from done. She hears the assassin moving, searching for anyone to stab. Tetra grips her sword, waiting, listening for her to get close... and when she's estimated the distance to be right, Tetra launches herself up from the pile, the blade of her sword blazing, lunging for the Janitor. "HAAAH!"
Amelris Belthrone	Amelris was expecting a few things from this. More firearms. He was braced for more of them. What he was not braced for was something flung at his windpipe -- and then a collapsed tower of water bottles. "What!?" The Red Mage cries out after crouching down beneath the first flung object, collapsed beneath the pile. He don't stay all that long under there, if it's worth anything. The bottles out of him explodes out in all directions around him as he leaps out, making a majestic leap backward into the air, almost flying to gain himself some distance. In mid-air, he draws his rapier and his gem flying into his hand, skidding into an halt after a perfect landing, just barely out of the entrance of the depot. Quick analysis of the situation. The Chiffre. This person. Some others guards outside. Apparently not normal? Hm. Okay. More importantly, Tetra also bursted out of the bottles at around the same time as he did. Questions will have to come for later. Amelris levels his rapiers at the Janitor, squeezing his hand on his gem as he casts his spells. "HYRAH!" With a swing of his blade, a large streak of lightning bolt comes soaring out of his blade, the Red mage taking the opportunity to take a few steps forward admist the various water bottles, taking note of them, then slamming his rapier down. Stone comes falling down, large, spiked crushing stalactites just appearing on the concrete ceiling and crashing down.
Alruna Greengate	Bullets spang off Alruna's armour and shield, deflecting off at shallow angles, just as it was designed to. Straightening up from her hurried examination of one of the guards, she lifts her shield and feels several more clanks of bullets smashing against it. "Thal's /balls/." she growls. The salvos come in constant, overlapping waves - Alruna realises she's being held down and takes precipitous action. She kicks some of the plastic barrels sloshing around on the floor, sending them spinning towards the shadowy figures popping in and out of cover. Deelel finds a huge figure placing itself between her and the security force - not the hulking mountain of a Terran marine, but the only slightly less intimidating bulk of a plate mail-clad amazon. The wings on her helm bob slightly as she stoically nods and gives the lithe warrior a smile of encouragement.
The Janitor	Against leverage, against reason, against the laws of physics, the Cleaner brings up her screwdriver as N'Raha swings his axe around- and parries it, catching the blade just on that tiny spit of tooled steel and jarring it upwards to pass above her head. She plants her hand on the elbow of his armor, meeting his eyes with the eyeless gaze of her hat and bangs as she steps in uncomfortably close in the wake of his swing. He makes his demands about ending it here and now, or something or other- you know, those words that heroes say. "Okay," she replies, and tries to jam the screwdriver through the armor at his neck to hook it down inside his collarbone. A leg-sweep follows, benefitting from his heavy armor and the uncertain footing- just to keep him off her back for a second. At that instant, Tetra's blade finds her. The Cleaner is human; mere flesh-and-blood, as near anyone can tell. She's flat-footed, and that attack could gut any normal human being. But it doesn't. She moves like an animal on instantaneous reflex; catching the blade with her bare hand, knocking it aside with her elbow even as it scratches her forearm and blisters her skin. In the same twisting, evasive motion, she picks up a glass bottle in her other hand and plants a foot on Tetra's chest- trying to shove her down to the floor, pin down her sword-arm with a boot on the wrist, bludgeon the adventurer over the head again and again with the piece of blunt glass in her hand. "Shut up." A normal assailant would be slowed by pain, or by some scrap of visceral mercy. The Cleaner is not. The only thing that ends the assault is dodging lightning. The Cleaner aborts her attempted homicide to panic-roll across the floor, grab a crowbar, and throw that into the path of the lightning bolt instead. She acrobatically kips up an instant later, snagging a ratty-looking wooden broom from one of the walls and flipping into the air to land perched atop one of the stone spikes. Leaping off it, she brings the broom down in a two-handed flying bash against Amelris's head, followed by a gut-punch of a stab with the blunt end and an ankle-twisting sweep! "Both of you."
N'Raha	That screwdriver not only blocks that axe swing, N'raha also finds himself being mounted like a damn chocobo, his mobility limited by the weight of the Cleaner. But that's about it, because he lets out another yowl of anger and pain and lashes his arm up and around to snag at the woman, looking to pluck her from his- And she's already gone, moving. Infuriating. He wasn't built for this. At least, wasn't built for chasing down lightly armored little sneakthiefs. But if she wan'ts to create area hazards, he can create area hazards. There's another grunt of effort and then N'raha lashes out, magical energy filling the area with flashing aether blades that fill the area, blasting at the bottles and the surrounding terrain and generally making it shitty to be a baddie in.
Big Boss	Silent Jackal slips through the window of the office, muffling his footsteps casually with years of training. With his target overheard and located ahead, he draws a combat knife and one of the two pistols, listening to Boss's orders on which one to draw. His mouth curls into a frown, but...Boss's orders. As he approaches, Mathis's back is to him. Silent Jackal takes two seconds to survey the room, and then moves into action. It's unsure if it'll work, and Boss is underestimating Mathis, but the plan is simple. Jackal attempts to move up on Mathis, grab him around the throat with the knife, and take him into a one-armed CQC hold. Assuming the other guy will move to draw his gun, the suppressed lethal pistol Jackal's holding moves up to take a shot at the guard's head, presumably spraying blood across the wall. Vesper was already screaming - presumably, if she screams from this, it won't mean shit. If all goes well, which it absolutely might not, Silent Jackal says one word to Mathis. "Talk."
Tetra	Tetra nearly loses her grip at the unexpected catch, the Janitor easily pinning her against the floor and knocking a bit of the wind from her lungs. She manages to intercept the bottle with sword hand's forearm several times, mitigating much of the damage. As her assailant moves off of her, the adventurer tosses a small sphere to the ground near the Janitor. It proves to be full of flash powder, producing a loud snap and a bright flash--but oddly, it's not particularly disabling to either Amelris or N'Raha. Provided her eyes are open, the Janitor gets the full force of the flash. Tetra uses this moment to reposition herself and draw her bow, loosing a heated arrow toward her foe from an unexpected angle. At least she isn't yelling!
Amelris Belthrone	Amelris is not actually super great at hand-to-hand combat. Oh, he's good with a rapier but when someone's coming in to clean his clock like this, that's probably a different matter. Red Mage are versatile but they are still MAGES. The Miqo'te's head snaps back from the broom cracking down on his skull, doubling over from the gut punch and then falling right off on his ass. He follows after the fall, grunting and kicking himself up. Alright, time to be a bit creative. "What's this? You don't like talking, do you? Oh no." Amelris lets out, his confident grin belying some pain underneath it. She DID clock him nice and good. "That will not do. That will /simply/ not do!" The Red Mage squeezes his floating gem, slamming it outward in the Janitor's general direction. Energy flows out of him, bright and white as wind condenses around his thrust. A large blast of spiraling, cutting wind flares out. But that's not the only thing going out. Beneath the captured James Bond, bright energy gathers up and coursing on his body, soothing his wound, closing them and giving him energy back. It's actually pretty strong of a pick-me-up.
Gideon Kaspar	Alruna sends one of the Janitor's dropped barrels crashing over the ground at high speed with a mighty kick, but the lead woman storming into the warehouse leaps over it like a barricade at an Olympic sprint --an obstacle put in the way solely for sport. She resumes firing the moment the toe of only one boot touches the ground, blazing away even before her second foot hits a full sprint. The magazine drops out of the bottom, and she's replaced it as quick as blinking. Deelel's disc goes ricocheting off the walls, bouncing several times, until the 'guards' can no longer track it, and it shreds across a woman's back, sending her tumbling to the ground with a yelp of pain. The generic burner uniform splits shoulder to hip, revealing a long gash stained a rusty red, but then she rolls over onto her back, folding the stock with a flock of her thump and firing supine down the length of her body at Deelel, pushing herself into cover in a backwards crawl. The marines are beset from multiple sides in a standard, yet surprisingly frenetic, shootout. They don't seem to be much headway, until Nova's surprise sniper shot takes one out straight through the middle. The 25mm round sends her tumbling sideways several times, rolling across the concrete and leaving a thin red streak where she'd passed. That kind of thing should cut someone in half, but the halting, juddering movements of the generic guard trying to push herself back up again are too clear. No guts. No bones. Nothing. Their comms crackle. The dull, tinny reply comes back. Anti-Rain intervention authorized. Sit tight girls. Fire support will be arriving in ten, five, three, aaaand . . . now." Nova's perch bursts around her as a shot from nowhere streaks through, ripping through the concrete and wood and tearing a shallow rut across the top of the structure, straight over her prone position. The sound is like a tiny jet screaming past her ears, echoing for several seconds. There is no crack. A split second later, he bell above her clangs, rocking slightly on its axis, and a bullet deflects straight down its side and into her back at an angle that is pure, obscene math "Violet is now on-station; reporting visual on enemy sniper. Full team ETA staggered as suggested. Sit tight girls. Focus on supporting the . . . well, the lady. Block Le Chiffre if you can, but don't all get smashed up too hard, right? This is for the Soviet deal; if you're under too much pressure, stall and exfiltrate. Once full Anti-Rain procedures are underway, any targets left behind will be turned into beehives in short order." The voice --crisp, male, cavalier-- isn't kidding. Nova's barely been accosted before two more bullets shriek out of the black and fall on Deelel from behind, and three more punch straight through the warehouse to hit Alruna from her blind spot, apparently able to see her through the wall. The problem is that the identical girls are still all over them, spraying scores of rounds all over their positions, pinning them down, harassing them, exposing them to deadly fire. There's no moment to breathe, never mind track where the fire is coming from.
James Bond	Bond is still prone on his chair. Still bound. White light bathes him, and in the brief moment of illumination, Amelris can spot subtle changes. Gone is the drunken haze that intense torture tends to cast over a person. His breathing is normal, his eyes alert. With an impressive feat of physical prowess, Bond throws his body weight around to hop the wicker chair behind cover. Le Chiffre, meanwhile, has taken cover behind a heavy pallette of undistributed Eau Royale mineral water. His image is distorted through myriad torpedo-shaped bottles in the darkness. He is /very/ quiet. SILENT JACKAL: Mathis folds like a cheap suit, as the saying goes. He is an old spy, used to doing his work through phone calls, patient observation, and social manipulation. His days of direct combat are over. He knows this. The brains of his subordinate splatter across the wall, and he is unmoved. Vesper, as predicted, does scream--but as there is an all-out brawl just a bit down the hall, it doesn't change anything. "What do you want to know?"
The Janitor	N'Raha's energy blades catch the Cleaner out at first, slicing shallowly into her skin and drawing red lines across exposed flesh- but in the next second she learns to maneuver around them, dodging and weaving as easily as if she were wholly unimpeded by the lethal magical obstacle course. A shattered bottle, sliced by the aetheric blades at a remarkably ugly angle, finds its way to her hand in a stray instant; she wedges it inside what looks like a crack in his armor, then kicks it to drive it deeper while springing backwards off him. That backwards vault carries her over Amelris, and over his attack: the spiraling, slicing winds give her shoes a new sole texture, but not much else. Shifting her broom back into both hands, she brings it up around his throat as she falls, trying to wrench and pull it to briefly choke him or crush his windpipe even as she hits the ground. Tetra's bizarre flashbang doesn't have as much of an effect as hoped- partly because the Cleaner is too cold-blooded to be put off by things like 'blinding pain', but mostly because her eyes are perpetually shaded by her hair and the brim of her cap. It does draw aggro, though: disentangling herself from Amelris as soon as things get dicey there, the Cleaner leaps up to run along the ceiling towards her. One of the skylights shatters 'under'foot, and she grabs a shiv-shaped shard of it as she falls. It knocks the arrow aside in an uncannily-timed parry, leaving the projectile to just barely skim and sear the Cleaner's bicep. Undeterred, he brings the shiv-shard down in a falling slice towards Tetra's head as she falls, then launches in a flurry of blows to try and filet her like a fish!
Big Boss	Jackal orients himself around Mathis once he's grabbed, pointing the gun casually at Vesper Lynd - she's a spy, too, but he doesn't shoot and doesn't look like he's going to shoot. He talks, an American, but his affiliation likely guessable based off skill and who else is in the warehouse. "This isn't solely about Le Chiffre. He's a genius, but he's a bad asset. Not trustworthy, not reliable." Jackal speaks, tilting his head. "But it's not about the money. The money's nice, and the Russians care about it, but your employers don't, and you don't, unless it's more than we're guessing - 'too rich for your blood'. We don't know if you're DGSE, or what, but it doesn't matter. This is a big game. A circus of spies instead of clowns." "What's the angle?"
Deelel	Deelel is finding out just how bad it is to deal with these mysterious guards. Several shots graze her. There's no blood, but it is clear she's been harmed there are jagged blocky wounds where the rounds passed through her leaving bright blue light seemingly radiating out from the point of injury. Had they been direct hits? It would have been far worse than it already is for her. Things are quite close-quarter right now she certain options she normally has are not viable in this situation so she'll have to adapt how she fights. On the other hand, the guards seem to be very much in their element right now which is going to make this troubling at best to deal with. Some good news comes in the form or Alruna pint herself in harm's way for her sake, she's quite thankful for her help. "Thanks." With this cover she has just enough time to recover her disc and make a new plan of attack. The good news for her is her disc did have some effect on the enemy attackers. As for her new plan that quickly goes out the window. Why? Violet has dropped in and is dealing some serious damage to the party. Violet aim is true as a bullet catches deal in the back punching right through the program. There's a hole now bleeding the light from the edge and some strange blue semitranslucent cubes fall out the edge of the gaping wound. Deelel is in a heck of a lot of pain from this, well as a program would feel it. She does not look happy she's already pinned own there'sd a sniper who has her number and she makes a radio call? There's one bit of good news, Nova's alive and trying to do something about the enemy sniper. Since there nothing she can do about Violet for the moment? Deelel will pull a puck-like device off her hip and twist something on it tossing it at some of the guards. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!". Shortly after this? The grenade will explode, the big question is will Deelel catch any of the enemies with it?
Alruna Greengate	Alruna takes three bullets from behind. This time, two of them actually strike instead of deflecting off, one leaving a bruising dent in the back plate of her armour - the other one punches through, landing in Alruna's body and splattering some of her blood on the ground behind her. Staggered, Alruna takes a halting step forward into the unrelenting hail of automatic fire. Nova says she's working on their new assailant. Alruna will have to trust her. She sucks a pained breath and steels herself. The weapons the guard team are using don't seem nearly as powerful as the sniper's, so Alruna will put her faith in her armour and her allies. She charges towards the lead woman, using a dramatic sweep of her shield arm as it sheds a hail of bullets to try and knock her weapon away before following with a straight thrust of her sword, a glitter of aether sharpening the blade's edge moments before the strike.
Nova Terra	Inside the factory, Nova's Marines have been forced behind cover due to the shootout. While Nova's support fire helped ease up the assault a little, they're still pinned down. They're returning fire with their gauss rifles, but the identical guard women appear to be difficult targets for them to get a bead on. They really need more support from Nova. Just like the one in the factory had no warning that a shot was coming, Nova like has none. The only thing that saves Nova from a bullet in the spine is her suit, the artificial muscle fiber acting as an additional layer of protection. Though GOD DAMN Nova felt that, crying out in surprise at the pain of the impact. She quickly scrambles over to a corner of the bell tower, hopefully taking herself out of view of the sniper and making it harder for them to get a good angle. Her allies are pressuring her to deal with the sniper, though right now Nova's at a disadvantage since said sniper has her bearing, but not the other way around. Thankfully, Nova's not alone here. She radios out, "Griffin, can you pin down the location of that sniper?" Zip up into orbit, the Terran stealth destroyer 'Griffin' floats invisible in orbit above the city. On the bridge, Nova's second-in-command works at a console, looking at the overhead display of the town. He quickly inputs calculations into the keyboard, working on some of the math in his head, other parts the computer fills in. A line draws out from the church bell tower before stopping. Reigel replies, "No visual on the shooter. But I have a rough location." Nova's voice echoes out from the bridge speakers, "Good enough! Bring the fire!" Zip back down towards the planet, this time to just outside the city limits. A Siege Tank in siege mode adjusts its large artillery barrel. Energy arcs between the two halves of the barrel, before the loaded shell shoots forth with a resounding BANG. The round arcs through the air before coming down on the approximate location of the sniper, unleashing a large explosion of plasma which hopefully catches the target in its radius.
Tetra	The Cleaner's bizarre move catches Tetra by surprise, and she instinctively shields her face from the shattering light, leaving her midsection open to her assailant's stabs. She lets out a startled 'hrk' as she's slashed across the midsection, penetrating the thick cloth under her tunic. The garment stains dark. The fatigued woman retaliates by jabbing the handle of her sword into the Janitor's face, hoping that stuns her enough to give her a moment to breathe. "Get off...!"
Amelris Belthrone	This time, Amelris is ready. Maybe it's a fluke or maybe more that he's getting a bead on how the woman fights. Maybe it's a mixture of both. The Red Mage turns around, bringing up his rapier in a twist. His cape swings around, the now suddenly glowing blade slicing the broom right clean in half. His other hand is thrusted out, carrying his gem to slam it against the wrench aimed for his windpipe, leaping backward to give himself some room. Or as it would be, more space to gain more velocity. She runs on the ceiling to get to attacking Tetra. N'raha is beated up but he's still standing. The Hylian is having somewhat worse of a time. The Red Mage takes a deep breath and then leaps off the ground. His feets rolls off the various bottles on the ground, the Mage gracefully running off each of them in his path with uneering ease, gaining momentum and speed to slam his glowing blade against the Janitor in a flurry of blinding thrusts.
N'Raha	Every strike, every little jab felt like someone was wringing the life out of him, that bottle only making things worse, blood seeping out of his armor now as N'raha yanks it free. He swings in place to watch as Amelris gets off that heal on Bond, and the catman moves to cover the spy as 'hopefully' the man gets up and clears out. "Come on, Imperial. Not time yet." But he wants to keep at least some of the attention on himself. And The Cleaner seems to be able to track their moves... better than he thought. A sniff, and the catman whips his axe around, a wave of aggravating enrgy lashing out, looking to harry and harass. "MOVE IT, BOND."
James Bond	"You're right," says Mathis to Jackal. "Le Chiffre... we had planned to kill him after he secured the money. Ah, but we might have to do it faster--money is not so important to our organization as knowing who to trust--and desperate men are seldom trustworthy, no?" "We have operatives everywhere," explains Mathis. "Everywhere. We allow them a measure of freedom in pursuing their own projects, so long as they come when we call, and so long as those projects do not draw attention to us." Le Chiffre has certainly failed the second part of that directive. "The 'angle' was... mmm. Clean-up a small mess now to avoid a larger one later."
The Janitor	The attack on the Cleaner's face strikes true, bruising her cheek- and it doesn't deter her in the slightest. There's not a flicker of pain in her face; not a grunt of discomfort. She reaches up to try and grab Tetra's wrist, wrench it to the side painfully, drive the shard of glass home in the adventurer's ribs while she's distracted. "Die first." Amelris, unfortunately, isn't as staggered by the attempted choke as she'd planned. A miscalculation. Rushing up from behind her, his blade finds her back- for the briefest of instants before she's wheeling around, twisting out of the way of the blow, her gray boilersuit tinging red from the inside. She parries and feints like a duelist, waiting for an opening- and then seizes it, grabbing a fire extinguisher from the wall with her empty hand. A burst of foam to blind Amelris, then she swings it around like a flail to sock him in the jaw. The same extinguisher, she uses to intercept N'Raha's mighty swing. The Cleaner steps uncomfortably close again as the fire extinguisher hisses empty, leaving it stuck on his axe as she kicks her broom up from the ground. It comes up in a butt-strike against his temple, then hooks into his armor- she kicks its other protruding end, trying to lever his gear right off like a can-opener! "He stays here."
Gideon Kaspar	The battle against the warehouse guards on the ground is progressing. Steadily, they're starting to lose ground, beaten back by fewer, but individually superior, forces. Alruna skewers one girl straight through, who drops to the ground with a squeal and rolls over lifelessly, slowly staining the ground red through her uniform. More adept at dealing with grenades though, the formation Deelel picks dives and scatters from the lobbed explosive, only banged up by shrapnel and energy burns rather than blown sky high. The battle with the marines is a difficult affair, being frontline soldier to soldier; though they have the advantage in weaponry and armour, somehow the out of place girls are far superior in sheer shooting and tactical skill, moving together under some grand, seamless, masterful tactical plan. The gauss spikes punch into them badly with even winging hits, but the sheer quantity of fire being dumped on marine armour, aiming for weak points and to batter through already dented and damaged plates, is becoming troublesome. An airstrike comes down on the sniper's estimated position. A building blows sky high, raining down as a million little fragments over the course of almost half a full minute. The problem is the question of 'did we get them?'. There's no thermal. No radar. No FoF signal, so the operator is solo, skilled, and has gone dark after a dangerously near thing, or, has been blown to a million bits. "Stage two has arrived. Buck up girls. Rose has reached firing range and established a killbox. Prioritize holding ground. You won't win in a stand-up fight until Anti-Rain is fully actualized. Stay out of close combat. Don't throw yourselves in the way for Le Chiffre." No sooner has that command come through than the guard unit, damaged down to about two thirds, take cover, and a series of percussive thumps and high, ominous, whistling shrieks split the night air. Wispy vapour contrails arc high through the air, and then land in the combat zone, launched from what must be at least five hundred meters, but lethally close, throwing up building-busting flashes of HE firepower on the combat area as if the gunner were right there. The military minded can tell they're standard 40mm rifle grenades; it makes no sense though, because the operator fires multiple of them in the space of a second, where those would normally take at least two to reload. The open tactical channel is suddenly invaded by a stark burst of static, and a high pitched, astonishingly girlish, yet uncomfortably unhinged cackle. "Hahahaha! Better hide well you fools! My sisters are coming to get you~ Ahahahaha!"
Big Boss	"You're not DGSE." Jackal realizes, and states, matter-of-factly. "You're not KGB, or MI6, either." Those two are obvious. There's one more big potential player, but... "You're not CIA." Doesn't fit the bill. "Who do you work for?" The answer determines Boss's next directive.
N'Raha	That extinguisher slams into him and N'raha.... leans into it. The jagged bits dig into his flesh, his body is cramping around the wound, blood flowing everywhere now and- The catman howls, and just... charges in at the Cleaner. But there's barely any movement on his part, just a sinlge step forward, and then, he's right in the face of the Cleaner, blood and red aura everywhere, a terrible fell look in the eye slits of that helmet. "...NO." The ax comes up and around and down and behind it comes the horrible force of ancestral power. If that blade strikes true... it's going to be a bad time.
Tetra	'Is this woman even human?' Tetra wonders in disbelief. Pain jolts down her arm as it's twisted sideways, the Hylian letting out a ragged cry. The pain doesn't distract her enough, though; her knee comes up to slam the Cleaner's elbow, diverting the stab upward and into the hardened leather of her chestplate. The shiv still finds flesh, but the damage is mitigated. A red glow fringes Tetra's free hand, a heat-haze rising from her palm. She lunges it forward to grip the Cleaner's face, to sear a blistering handprint into her features. "Not yet!" she growls through gritted teeth.
Amelris Belthrone	Amelris ripostes, snaps and duels with the woman. He's no slouch on this department either but openings do happens. His sword stance get tattered off, Amelris throwing up his cape in retailation to block MOST of the foam, but the concussion of the explosion sends him rolling off on the sides. This might not be great for The Chiffre as the Miqo'te slams into another pile of water bottles, one that's very close to him. Oooo, careful. That makes HIS pillar of water bottle jiggle and wobble. That's not great! Amelris do not immediatedly come out of the pile of water. Like last time, he erupts out of it but this time, straight up, holding in his hand one of the bottles. He's seen and read up on the water. This spring water is really ionised. ...After he looked up what that meant at the Library during his brief time there, he figured that would be a great time to test a little theory. The water bottle is flung at the Janitor's way. In his other hand, Amelris condenses his inner aether into his gem before thrusting it out. "VERTHUNDER!" The lightning comes crashing out, striking at the bottle, if all goes well, mere feets away from the woman, superheating the water inside and exploding out for her to be soaked in.
James Bond	Ordered to MOVE IT by Raha, Bond nods, putting on the 'stunned civilian' routine. His eyes go wide. "I'm a bit tied up at the moment," he utters in his own defense. After that awful pun, he attempts to clumsily get free of his bindings, wriggling in the chair. Despite the display, there is surprising, perhaps unnatural strength at work. Raha can hear the ropes grinding against each other. Bond slams the back of the chair (and himself) into the ground. At last, it shatters. He's free--and immediately, he runs for his clothes, hurriedly tossing them on. There's one thing on his mind--Vesper. Silent Jackal can hear someone running down the hall--calling her name. Mathis chuckles, in response to Jackal. "I am not. I work for..." he pauses. "An international conglomerate. You've heard of private military companies, yes? Think of it as a private intelligence agency. Perhaps your organization and mine will do business, one day. But that day is not today, my dear boy." Mathis can hear Bond coming, too. The manner of hold Jackal has him in allows him to see a ring on his finger. The matte black figure engraved upon it kind of resembles an octopus, in a stylized, modern kind of way.
Alruna Greengate	Alruna pulls her sword out of the woman's chest, and leaps over her body... to find the rest of the team is scattering. She's caught out in the open as the airstrike comes in, the HE rounds catching her as she runs for cover herself. A ring of blueish aether forms around her for a moment before she's obscured from sight. Alruna's built Ironworks tough. She staggers on her feet, but she's still standing, in the middle of the killzone. This is where people go to die - and it's exactly where Alruna needs to be. Dust and smoke billows around her as she draws a ragged, hoarse breath. The battle is not going well for them, but Alruna thinks she can salvage something, or at least secure an escape for the team by being a magnificent distraction. And she has a new trick in her bag that they might not have anticipated. The paladin holds up her shield arm, visualising what she wants to do. Bubbling, pixelated water effects are gathered around her hand, and she turns in place, blowing a steady stream of bubbly water effects around her. The wave courses through the smoke, washing around cover and seething with WOOD elemental energies, carrying a poisonous green tinge as the magic attempts to infect the guards with debilitating poison! WOODSIN
The Janitor	Tetra's searing palm comes up, finding the Cleaner's face, reddening and blistering flesh- and she just twists the shiv harder, trying to force it into something vital, utterly undeterred by the sizzling and smoking burns. If human, she's got to be possessed; it's hard to believe that anyone of flesh and blood could endure that without even a wince. The Cleaner just... doesn't seem to care. She's not even breathing hard. N'Raha's terrifying assault finally forces her to back off of Tetra. The blade, of course, does not strike true. That isn't- it seems- how the Cleaner rolls. She is relaxed and easy as that terrible axe-swing comes down, taking a sliding leap between his legs to evade it- it strikes the ground with such ferocity that the jarring impact and rubble still bruise her, but the blade finds no flesh. "I said shut up]," she intones tonelessly. Once on the other side, she's grabbing the discarded crowbar from earlier in the fight, hooking it into the catman's shoulderplate, and trying to twist his armor into dislocating his right arm from its socket by doing a flipping kick onto the protruding lever-end! From that vantage point, she dashes through the scalding steam and flying glass shards towards Amelris, trying to grab him with her unnatural ferocity even as her skin broils pink: her fingers try to grasp his skull, his hair, and then wrench him to the ground before slamming his face into the concrete repeatedly. If she's successful, her hands will find a fractured bottle-stem and try to drive it clean into his side, aiming to turn his kidney into a wellspring for blood!
Deelel	The Battle is fully underway she has no idea of what Nova's status is as things are heating up pretty hard here. There is some kind of explosion outside, really heavy firepower has been brought into the fight. Deelels aware now the big guns are here. Not the details or how many more, but there's worse to come. She's managed to scatter the guards a bit with her last attack. That's some good news the bad news comes in as rapidly as Rose can fire her 40mm grenades. This would explain why the guards haven't popped back up their ally or allies gave them a heads up about the rain of explosives. Deelel finds some small measure of cover that keeps her from being turned into a pile of cubes in a crater. Her injuries are stacking up though parts of her body are cracking and one can see the light bleeding gom them she sees Alruna is still in the fight and will not leave her to do this alone. Deelel meanwhile will pull a few more grenades of her own to toss them at the most likely places the guards are hiding but she sets a few of them on timed count downs rather than to explode on impact. She'll also throw her ID disc into the mix as well.
Big Boss	No name. But a logo - an octopus. Very, very distinctive. Jackal shifts, allowing his bodycamera to get a good look, and then overhears the footsteps. James Bond is coming. Jackal releases Mathis, jostles him forward towards Vesper Lynd, and holsters his weapons. He starts walking backwards out the door, before shifting direction and passing through. He'll pass Bond in the hallway. He veers to bump straight into him, and then keep moving as fast as he can. Getting spotted is usually a tactical weakness, as he moves to escape the way he came. But in this case, it's a boon, as Bond is likely to bug-check himself. He won't find any. But on his body, he'll find something peculiar. A calling card. 'OUTER HEAVEN'
Amelris Belthrone	Well that wont end /well/. Amelris don't full follow everything that happens to him but there is, past a point, where there is instincts that kicks in. Just as the glass slams into his sides and have the required splur of blood and cry of pain, the Red Mage SLAMS himself back, leaping off the air and landing a few feets off, landing on a knee. "Shite." He lets out, squeezing his hand on his gem. His head hurt something fierce and while that. He gives the area a look, slamming a foot into another tower of bottles and dashes out into the back door, blowing it open to give others some fleeing room as well.
N'Raha	Bond's gone, he's bleeding, his friends are... well. His friend is partly dead, and N'raha's in no more mood to fight a literal sandbag in motion. He managed to roll out of the way of having his arm ripped out of it's socket but all the fight's out of him. He growls, and moves cover Tetra. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here." For her part, N'raha snags at a loose pallet and just sort of... whips it in the Cleaner's direction as a distraction making it clear for the others to get free.
Nova Terra	Nova peeks out from her her corner of the bell tower, her visor zooming in on the now destroyed building. No signs of a sniper... Dead or alive. Either way though, for the moment the threat has been neutralized. As she said it would. Unfortunately, there's another threat. The rifle fired grenades are well aimed, raining down on the Terran Marines amidst their cover. The result explosion knocks them all to the ground, ripping into power armour, shattering visors. The explosion and pained cries in her radio draws Nova's attention away from the sniper and to the building. Seeing the status of her troops through her HUD, she swears before ordering, "Pull back! Retreat! Get out of there!" Nova quickly jumps to her feet and dashes towards the ladder downwards. She slides down it, planning to meet up with her troops. The Marines inside the factory rise, some helping the others who took a harder hit. They begin to limp away from the shootout, laying down cover fire as they do.
Tetra	"Ghk." The knife slips through Tetra's chestplate, between her ribs. Blood spatters from her lips. She slips from the Cleaner's grip and staggers back, hand held over the wound. She pulls another little ball from her belt and tosses it onto the ground, the flash covering her and Amelris' retreat. As she limps back to the hotel, Tetra curses to herself. She was too sloppy. Overconfident. All the things Impa's spent years trying to knock out of her head. But more than that... there's no way that woman's human. No response to pain, no instinct for self-preservation... LATER Back in her room, Dame Galia prepares the renegade princess for transport to appropriate medical care, and said princess attempts several times to talk about the fight and her opponent--each time being shushed. It's not wise to speak when you're bleeding internally. She doesn't relish the idea of telling Impa... nor of any appearances she may need to make as princess over the next few weeks.
The Janitor	The pallet comes soaring towards the Cleaner... and she strikes it out of the air with her bare hand, wood and bottles shattering and scattering neatly on either side of her, with not a hair on her head touched. She doesn't say anything as she watches N'Raha leave. Just turns her back on him, almost insultingly, and walks the other way. Tetra manages to vanish while she isn't looking. The Cleaner doesn't seem concerned. She is bleeding lightly from a dozen different places. Her whole body is scalded, and a handprint is burned into her face. She is battered, unarmed. And she walks through the gunfire-riddled building like she's still the most dangerous thing there. Looking for Bond, in part- but more for Le Chiffre. The piece of glass clutched in her fingers is going to find its home in his brain.
Gideon Kaspar	"Louder... Let your voices cry out even louder! Ahahahaha!" "Cease bombardment, move three hundred meters to point charlie; danger close on incoming stage three." "Ah? Okay! I wouldn't want to hit those two after all. Moving~" "Copy that! Anti-Rain stage three commencing. Break the enemy formation and mop up the rest, Hazel, Clover." "Ah, orders received. Violet, Rose, advance in delta line. Please flank from either side. I'm relaying firing data now." "Loud and clear Commander! What about the French guy?" "Huh? What do I care right now? Just don't blow him to pieces, and make sure our lady friend gets out." "You're calling that thing a lady?" "Well there's no reason to be uncivilized, right?" The guards in the yard have all but lost their foothold. They adeptly navigate the grenades and remote explosives, scanning and relaying information between each other in time to avoid deadly blasts by mapping out the terrain, but they can't maintain their formation. Blasts of water sweep the scattered fatigue-wearing gunners off to the edges of the yard, crashing through barrels and tipping over resting vehicles, only able to form a loose firing perimeter now, allowing a small group to slip through. It's just now, though, that a visual of who's been piling onto the combat zone in stages of lethal interdiction is obtained. A girl in loosely worn corporate military chic, jacket tied around her waist, wearing green and white to match the green streak in her brown hair, leaps over the warehouse fence like taking stairs two at a time. Across from her, a girl in yellow with a more heavy duty black jacket and ballistic vest does the same, a yellow streak in her black hair and an eyepatch over one side of her face, with a massive, heavily armoured case slung over her back. A third girl, blonde with a red streak, wearing more futuristic grey black and red, with a clawed and robot left hand, charges in after them, smashing through the fence. The yellow girl picks two flashbang grenades from her belt with fingers in both pins, primes and throws them in one motion, bouncing into the fray and blasting the Elites on the attack. The green girl taps in some kind of command interface, and a faint, whining 'spin-up' noise emanates from all three of them. They burst into motion, green yellow and red light trailing from their eyes in the blackness, painting coloured streaks behind the fiery blaze of their rifles' muzzle flash. They strafe the battlefield at superhuman speed. The firing loads are custom anti-android rounds, tearing apart the scenery as if it weren't even there. Red fires another rifle grenade into the midst, blowing the outer yard sky high. Yellow crouches in front of green, blocking with her case and acting as portable cover for green, who suppresses the enemy with a non-stop barrage of gunfire. Magazines litter the floor as much as brass; the gap in reloads is imperceptible. Another bullet from the sniper cracks down into any targets of opportunity, having already relocated, the fourth member of the team now having a field of fire over the whole remaining field. The 'guards' clear the field straight away, not wanting to be anywhere near what is clearly an super elite hunter killer team. "How do you like it? The next generation of combat! The pinnacle of function and form, skill and beauty! Anti-Rain!" "Louder, louder! Let me hear your voices cry out even louder!" "I'm sorry, you don't stand a chance." "Now's the time! Clover, watch my movement!" "This . . . this is the difference between you and us."
James Bond	Bond is unarmed--but far from helpless. When Jackal approaches there is an existential darkness that washes over him--the other operative can see in his eyes that he's ready to kill. But he's bumped, not struck--which does indeed prompt a bug-check. He examines the card in mute confusion, then quickly pockets it. Vesper. "James, dear boy--" Mathis' attempt to baffle Bond is cut short by a right cross. It's enough force to briefly lift the older spy off of the ground. Enough to provoke a fear response when he lands. "You take it so personally," he says, foregoing the lie. "I am only a professional doing a job." Bond rises from the body of Le Chiffre's slain underling with a pistol in hand. "So am I," he replies, and eliminates Mathis with the same remorseless precision Jackal had mustered earlier. Bond makes note of the ring--but there's no time to grab it. He and Vesper make a hasty escape. There's no point in going after Le Chiffre--not in his current state. It's technically the Americans' problem, anyway. He still has the money Bond is long gone, as is Lynd, by the time the Janitor begins to search. Le Chiffre does not fare nearly so well. "I can get you the money," he says, attempting to bargain with her or appeal to some sense of... anything. But he is speaking to the last person who would ever be swayed by such an appeal. With one thrust, she eliminates one of the KGB's best, and cleans a mess for SPECTRE. Bond and Vesper are almost to the door, when Gideon's Dolls open fire. Having not yet made it outside, they're unable to see who's shooting at what. Instinct takes over, and Bond dives, taking her with him. "Stay down," he hisses. Bullets and shrapnel tear through the aging building. They won't make it past without a distraction... and he has one, hitched to a tow truck. With a tap of his designer wristwatch, the self-destruct is activated. At this distance, it won't do any harm... but it will certainly be a distraction. The DB5 explodes in a ball of fire. Bond and Lynd quietly make their escape into the woods.
Deelel	The mission is over one way or another and it is time to get out of here. As people pullback? Deelel and Alruna keep fight what are becoming more and more bad odds as the heavy hitters are moving in. The guards have been pushed pretty hard but the elite four are not just going to sit around and let her and Alruna keep going after them or their comrades. Things are a mess of flashbangs, explosives and bullets. Deelel is reeling then she's shot at least one more time. Which leaves another hole in Deelel's body, she's looking quite badly off as she's reeling she makes a call to Alruna it's time to leave. There's smoke everywhere there's the sound of battle and the elite hunter-killer team is making for them. The injured deelel reaches for a baton on her leg pulling free in one hand. She makes sure her ID disc is secured on her back. Then she activates the baton. She holds it out in front of her glowing golden wireframes surround he looking like some kind of blueprint, which rapidly takes shape about her. She shifts down like she's riding a motorcycle. It rapidly becomes clear internal parts taking shape before the wireframe finish and the outer shell of what seems to be a small open-cockpit has taken shape about her. "Alruna GET ON NOW!" She will gun the engine which makes a strange high pitched noise that does not sound like any sort of engine from at least this particular earth. The moment Alruna is hanging on to her. Deelel will take flight and try to get both of them away from the Hunter-Killer team. Praying to her User that they don't have heavy-duty AA abilities.
The Janitor	The Cleaner twists her glass shiv inside Le Chiffre's skull like she's whisking an egg, then pulls it out and lets him drop. There's no one-liner, no smirk of satisfaction. She doesn't even flick the shiv clean; it drools blood and cerebrospinal fluid as she walks out into the cool night air, gunshots and explosions still crackling around her. Behind her, the bottling plant slowly being mulched by excessive amounts of gunfire and explosives. Ahead of her, a few bloodied ragtag people scattering into the shadows. She looks down at the shard of glass again; briefly entertains the notion of putting it through a second head tonight. But there's no real point. It's dropped at her feet instead. She throws off her flat cap; pulls a new hat out of her pocket; musses up her hair. Unzips her boilersuit coveralls and smooths the wrinkles out of the clothes that were hidden underneath. A bit of cleaning chemicals gets the bloodstains out. And then 'The Cleaner' is gone. Nobody is left behind, to walk into town, disappear into a crowd; evaporate away. Becoming legion, becoming nothing.
Alruna Greengate	On and on and on they come. Alruna is wearied and worn down by the relentless assaults, and her shield is a mess of craters from automatic fire. One of her helmet's wings burned off entirely by a bomb blast, and the other one is burning down to the stubs of the feathers. When the 'Anti-Rain' squad finally arrives, fresh and ready, Alruna seems easy pickings. Her shield glows with golden aether, fending off the explosive anti-material rounds fired at her with difficulty, but grenades falling around her feet prove Alruna's undoing, tearing off her armour and peppering her with shrapnel. She is a bloody mess of flesh and torn armour, fallen to one knee panting from the effort of enduring the onslaught while the androids crow over her. Yet she's still on her feet...mostly. And has done her job. At Deelel's signal, she opens her eyes, vision swimming with red from blood dripping into her eyes. God this hurts, and her expression reflects the intense pain she's suffering. The bubbly, pixelated effects swirl up around her, surging backwards and then washing across the yard like a tidal wave. The sound effect is not of rushing water, however, but the snapping and crackling of tree roots, vines, like the forest come to life and hungry for lumberjacks' blood. GRNWRATH Alruna leaps up as Deelel swoops past, her hand finding purchase on the program's sleek, black, neon-trimmed vehicle. She lets out a pained whimper as the pressure of acceleration taxes her arm, but the paladin manages to hold on, both of them making a rapid exit and ceding the field.