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| Here Comes the Boom!; open | |
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| Topic Started: May 19 2014, 07:25 AM (208 Views) | |
| Cannon | May 19 2014, 07:25 AM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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A small wharf, just off Foot of Colony Rd, dead west of Red Hook, across the water 1am, 18th May Cargo containers by the hundreds and squat practical buildings littered the wharf, everyone a cold testament to necessity and nothing more. Lighting was scarce and so the shapes loomed square and angular in the dark. Up in the tower of one crane, Leona Bose had memorised the rough layout of the area within a half mile radius. She had been there, watching and waiting for several hours, since just after sundown. She was in her mutant form, powerful and deadly, clad in armor, and ready with her 20mm sniper’s rifle in her hands and Revolvers holstered at the small of her back. An hour ago, the first of two anticipated events occurred. A largish speed boat, completely out of place compared to the local cargo boats, docked at the wharf. A total of eight people departed the boat. Some of them, the peons of the group unloaded numerous, unidentifiable boxes into the closest building of which the others of the group had already entered. With her keen cat-like eyes, Leona was more than able to keep track of their movements in the dark. Eventually a pair of Chevrolet Suburbans came down the wharf and parked up outside the building the other group were in. Buyers and sellers meeting to ply their trade. A total of nine exited the two cars, making 17 primary targets overall. Many were obviously armed but nothing she saw was a concern. Between the second nine, there were three briefcases, each holding something in the area of one million cash. These were the secondary targets. So far Leona’s intel had paid off. If it didn’t, then there might be one additional primary target for later. Members from the two groups of people met outside the building, shook hands, and laughed. Apparently they were good business partners and business was booming. Leona sighted down the scope of the Anzio rifle. From her position high up in the crane booth, she could spot the fuse box to the building. That was the reason she was using the crane as her perch, to sight that box. Gently, she squeezed the trigger. Hammer met cap and with the following chain reaction, a 20mm high explosive, incendiary, armor piercing round sped out the barrel of the rifle at mach 3. Despite the rifle’s silencer, there was still a loud echoing boom. The fuse box was obliterated and all power died in the building. Three more shots followed, each as precise as the first. The two Chevvies were little more than burning wreckage, and the speed boat was sinking fast, only the river water saving it from cremation. Quick as a fox, Leona scooped up the four empty casings, leaving one round in the Anzio which she tucked under an arm. With a brief look, Leona stepped out of the crane’s booth and out into the night. She dropped to the ground with little grace, and landed with little fuss. Her mutant strength meant such reckless acts were safe as butterflies. Swiftly, she retrieved a hidden blanket, wrapped the rifle and empty casings, and hid the bundle safely away. Leona’s legs ate up the intervening ground as she headed for the building in the dark. The only thing left to do was cull a score of drug dealers. |
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| Mala Suerte | May 22 2014, 04:01 AM Post #2 |
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Unregistered
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The first batch of arrivals was of no consequence. They didn’t matter. The second batch however did, at least one of them anyway. His name was Albert Francis and he was a man that had his dirty little hands in a lot of pies. Dealing drugs was the least of his crimes and probably the most peaceful. He was a very dangerous man with power and wealth that granted him access to things that were better off in the hands of people that weren’t sociopaths. Federal prison wasn’t enough. He deserved to be put in a hole somewhere secluded. The police had tried on more than one occasion to lock him up, but for some reason nothing ever stuck. His actions put him on SHIELD’s radar awhile back, and now it was time for him to pay for his crimes one way or another. The goal was to capture him alive and bring him in for transportation. Once he and his men came out of their trucks to greet the others Zita moved from her hiding position among the cargo containers. This was a solo mission, the kind that didn’t need any attention from local authorities. That was why she had been the one sent. The uniform was left at home for this outing along with the badge. Tonight she wasn’t Agent Zita Rivera, but a portion of Alison Gomez aka Mala Suerte. She didn’t know how many men outside of those counted from the trucks were present, but that wasn’t an issue. She had enough ammo, lethal and nonlethal, to take care of whatever the numbers were. Zita moved silently toward the building where they were meeting, using the shadows to avoid sight. She pulled out her favored Glock 18s with extended clips. But before she could even put her fingers on the triggers properly there was a booming echo accompanying the explosion of a fuse box. Zita pressed her back up against a container as three more shots echoed followed by bigger explosions. For a moment she was lost in a memory, a flashback to a time in Afghanistan when she was nearly killed just like her companions by an unseen shooter. Upon hearing the confused yelling of the drug dealers that had ran out to see what was going on she snapped back to reality. “What the hell?” she asked. Someone else had crashed the party. Her goal was Francis and whoever this guy was was about to ruin that. Zita rushed out from cover, opening fire on the men outside. The bullets met with their legs, dropping them to the pavement. |
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8:54 AM Jul 11