The side door to the Whiskey 2s Vtol would slide open, allowing 2-1 access to the Minigun attached to the side of the aircraft. "Alright, Raiders. The Seals are in deep shit. Only two down there against an army." Whiskey 2-1 speaks up as he takes hold of the minigun. Firing round upon round on the Terrorist forces below, watching as the A.G.Rs are hacked and turned against security of the city. "Whiskey 2-1. We need to get an opening on that landing pad. Once there you can take the fight directly toward the seals." The Vtols pilot speaks up, prompting 2-1 to switch his targets from the random robots and Cordis Die soldier below, to clearing out the helipad. The minigun rips through the soldiers like butter, allowing their Vtol to land in a matter of no time.
"Seal Team Six spotted! 4 O'clock!" Whiskey 2-3 shouts, leaping out of the Vtol, his M27 shouldered. He began to fire off rounds, attempting to assist the Seal Team in any way possible.
"Good Eye, Ortiz. Raiders! We push forward and meet the Seals half way." Jefferson (2-1) presses the bolt release on his Scar-L sending a round home before taking sight on the battlefield below. "If you see a moment, move. 2-2 (Blair) stay up here and provide covering fire." She was the teams sniper, he thought this was a good call; having her watching their back.
10 Minutes earlier.
"Set him down here if you must." Mason manages to utter through the gasps to regain his breath. Placing a new magazine into his M27 assault rifle. "Last mag. How are you doing Salazar?" Mason looks up at his ally, watching as he checks his magazines with a grumble of frustration. "I'm all out." The Nicaraguan replies.
"Great! It's your turn to carry this heavy bastard anyway." Harper grumbles as he sets the man down. Salazar had swapped before, so Harper was better off on ammunition. "I've got three mags left, snagged some off one of those security guards." Harper tosses the extra mag to Mason, who catches it flawlessly; stuffing it into his vest pouch.
Mason nods his head, locking himself back into the moment before placing his shoulder against the door. "One last room to move through before we hit outside. Once out, I guess we have to make it to Defalcos ship on the otherside of the yard." Mason didn't like these odds, but Harper's confidence never ceased to amaze him. "Let's do this shit, section" The words of his most trusted ally snaps him back into reality, nicely. He'd slam the pry tool into the door and watch as it tears it apart.
The room they ripped their way into happen to be a stair way that lead to straight to the yard. Mason and Harper push into the second floor, swiftly perching behind cover to take on the few cordis die still on the floor at the time. Leaving Salazar to move in after the room was cleared. "Conserving ammo is impossible with how many roaches there are." Mason tosses the empty rifle over the edge before crawling over and swiping a chicom off a combatants corpse. "This fucking sucks" he didn't like the chicom, worse gun that god could have plopped in his lap. It'll do for now. "Alright..Salazar...keeping lagging behind. We continue onw-" the sound of a minigun blaring in the distance cuts him off, prompting him to pull himself up so that he could looking through the railing. The Cordis Die soldiers were rushing outside. "You forget about Whiskey, Section?" Harper stands up, moving toward the staircase. Mason had forgotten about them in the heat of the moment. He stood up, making his way with the rest of his team outside. They were met with more resistance, but thankfully, the Raiders were swift to aid their exit. Due to Cordis Die being pinched between the Seals and Raiders from above, they didn't last as long as expected. Allowing for the Seals to move up while the Raiders held their place, putting down any stragglers rushing out of the doorways.
Harper Fist bumps Whiskey 2-1 as he walks by showing a growing respect between the Raiders and the Seals they fight with. They swiftly load up into the Vtol, lifting off as soon as the door closes behind them. Blair (2-2) was quick to assess Bjørns wounds. The armor would likely have held if it weren't for the bullet going between the chest plates. She'd begin to patch him up, when Jefferson (2-1) walked over to them, kneeling down. "No. We were told to hold pressure on the wound nothing more. The freaks need to do their tests." Whiskey 2-1 wasn't fond of the order either, but they had to do what they had to do. Blair backs off and continues to hold pressure, unable to do much else, as just explained.
The mood of the ride home shifted as Bjørn woke up, due to his wounds his cradle reacted.. uncontrollably and constantly keeping him in a state of rage. The man easily tosses the woman off of him. Blairs impact on the wal of the ship caused it to rock, prompting Mason to shout "restrain him!" Rushing toward the rampaging man. Salazar, Mason, Harper, Jefferson, Lafayette tried with all their might to hold the rampaging man to the floor. They managed to hold him as he seemingly lost strength quickly. For Bjørn it was an absolute nightmare. To him, they looked like what could only be described as demonic. Their skin resembled solid rock, their veins, however, burned hot like magma. The more he fought the more twisted they became, skin bursting and splitting as magma poured out of their open wounds. Their touch...BURNED. Eventually Bjørn es out once again. His heart rate suddenly dying out after being so frantic sends a red flag in Blairs mind. Fluctuations like that could kill him if they continued to happen. "We need to get back, fast. If that wasn't obvious." It was around this time that the Vtol kicked it up a notch.
9 hours later....
2130
"as soon as they arrived, they were gone again. Strapped him to those machines, put him under a microscope. Let him go through out burst after outburst." Ryan (Jefferson 2-1) didn't know if Bjørn would survive much more. Soon, the team was given clearance to see Bjørn. He was told a number of things. This being the first time he was seriously wounded, he had been extremely careful until this moment. They had to study the outcome.
Ryan raises his right hand, knocking his knuckles against the door, a woman in a lab coat opens the door, stepping to the side to allow the man in. Though it wasn't just Ryan, 2-2 (Blair) was there as well. "Tank. You good brother?" Ryan looks around the corner, seeing the man laying comfortably in bed.
"Yeah" Bjørn grumbles, lifting himself up out of bed to look at the two. "I'm good. Got dinged up pretty bad."
"Do you anything? What happened out there, man? Your shot, defalcos dead? We got Karma but fuck, dude. Nearly went bad." Ryan steps over toward the bed, sitting at a chair near it.
"They were killing people. Not Seals, or other combatants. Innocent people. I snapped. Pain used to activate my...special ability..if you'd call it that. That was different. I seemed to...do it on my own. Lost control of it, though. I tackled him. He shot me in the chest aaaand that's all I . Woke up...here surrounded by C.i.A. picking me apart with pleasure. Learned a few things, though. My cells regenerate faster than the average human. We aren't talking Deadpool or Wolverine here. Let's be realistic. If you look hard enough, you can see it healing in real time, but nothing like theirs. The C.I.A. didn't notice this before after I came back from Kashmir...fucking wasteland. Their best guess is it's evolving."
"shi-" Ryan's eyes were wide as he listened to Bjørns words about the situation he was in. Defalco deserved it. Ryan knew that. He began to speak but was cut off by a knock at the door, Blair opens the door. Two familiar faces walk through the door. Mason and Harper. They were still in uniform. "Hey, bloodhound!" Harper speaks up, happy to see that Bjørn is all good.
Mason and Harper move their way fully into the room and stood on the otherside of Bjørn from Ryan and Blair. "I take it you don't shit, huh? Just like when we were Younger?" Mason asks the agent if he ed anything. He knew he wouldn't he'd seen various reactions like this before...Bjørn never ed.
"The initial outburst I . That's because I did it myself. I lost control after getting shot. What happened after that?" Bjørn was rather curious what happened. He didn't know Defalco was dead...not until Ryan had said it. Had he done it?
"yeah...he shot you, you went Berserk...ripped his damn throat out with your teeth. With how he was in pursuit of Chloe, hed have had to die anyway. Glad you're alive, Bloodhound" Mason pats the man's shoulder as Ryan looks over at Bjørn.
"Ohhh dude! You ripped his throat out with your teeth!? That's fucking Primal bro hahaha! I was wondering where this new Nickname came from. Bloodhound sounds a hell of a lot better than Tank." Ryan chuckles softly, generally lightening up the mood of the room.
To the left of the bed against the wall sat a small counter on the top his prototype armor had been...changed it was more refined. His Handler had told him that Atlas was monitoring it and making active upgrades as I tested it. He didn't think they'd be able to work that fast. The data glove on the right arm of the suit began to vibrate on the counter, drawing their eyes. On the screen flashed a skull, prompting Mason to walk over and grab the glove. Pressing his index finger into the skull, it'd open. "Bjørn. It's Adler. He's back. Out of nowhere and he says he's got some documents you're going to want to see." That voice coming through the data glove was none other than Woods. Guess Adler wasn't gone after all. That old bastard was still investigating. "Hey Frank. This is David. We'll be coming over too. We've got a few things to ask you about Menendez." Woods paused for a moment before speaking up once again "you bet kid. You two need to get over here as fast as possible."
To be continued with chapter Five
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