Surviving the Riot

Boots tapping against the polished surface of long hallway that stretched across the majority of the third floor, the archer blocked out the ever increasing sounds of panic all around him. The power hadn't even been off half an hour and it sounded like an apocalypse film wherever he turned. Unfortunately for the guards likely fighting for their lives at the moment, Cole had no intention of brawling with a pack of bloodthirsty rioters at the moment. That would involve far too much wasted effort when he could simply just turn the power back on. Of course, that did add the additional problem of trying to find the backup generators. He was familiar with the third floor up but everything below that only had cryptic or classified titles. Chances were the generators were down there somewhere but actually finding them would be a far more difficult task.

Harkness' response came in through his ear bud just as he was passing the armory on his way to the stairs which lead to the fourth floor. From the looks of it, none of the convicts had reached it just yet but based on the sounds of fighting it was only a matter of time. Looking up ahead, Cole caught sight of two of the guards he'd passed earlier on his way to his room. The appeared to be heading towards the more severe fighting in the cell blocks.

"Hold up you two! Hand back and look after the armory," he said, catching their attention just in time. The archer didn't bother to elaborate upon the orders, continuing on his way to the stairs.

<-----------------------Eleanor's Room

She trusted the medic to stay glued to her, and that seemed to be the case; the less chance of the woman running off, the better. It was odd, however, how much this situation had gutted the medic's self-esteem in combat, and there is nothing more right now that she didn't need than an ineffective combatant. This woman was supposed to have been steel nerves and hard nosed, at least that's what her file mentioned. Padding down the dark halls, her movements silent and sure, the spy motioned for the medic to go flat against the wall.

The infirmary.

There was forced entry, but nothing and no one had come out just yet. She urges the woman up to the front, and on the count of three, Eleanor shoves the medic across the doorway, just in time to hear voices inside. Cursing to herself - and knowing full well her partners could hear her - the spy marks the door frame with a quick swipe of a pen. It was invisible except to her mask-enhanced eyes, and it told her this site had been compromised.

Like a shadow, she steals across the door and brushes past the medic, trailing her fingers over the woman's upper arm, encouraging her forward. There were no soldiers, an there were no guards; the situation was far worse that she'd originally imagined.

They arrived at the first reienforced door, but like all the rest, is had been wrenched open, a prybar laying discarded for some trivial reason. She takes a steps forward and scoops up the long metal rod, swinging it once as she steps through the ruinous messes of guard bodies and convicts alike.

Every man for himself, indeed.

"Stay sharp. Kill shots only. We come across a group, you hide the best you can. I will find you." The mask made it impossible for the medic to know what was going through the woman's mind, and that was perhaps for the best. Because Eleanor had made the predictions, the calculations, and a majority said only one of them would live this.

She dearly hoped she was wrong, just this once.

They both darted past the mess hass, and upon hearing the screams of victims and torturours alike coming from the back of the room, the spy decided not to pursue that particualr venue. So she marks that door as well, and encourages Claire further into the building.

It was then a pair of tall, gritty, men of filth came out of the building's small store. And of course, who did they see?

Entertainment.

Their body language said it all: come here, let me touch you, let me taste you, I wanna do things, I wanna do those things till you scream.

Needless to say, she ws having none of that. They has places to be and shit to do, so this was just a setback.

"Cover me. But this...this is going to be fast." And that is the only warning anyone received. The black-suited operative - that the men only belated recalled belonged to the woman they all steered clear of - launched herself at them, unfurling the deadly little yoyo in one hand, and the heavy black crowbar in the other.

It was indeed quick. And brutal.

The men had only the broken arm chair leg and one guard's pistol between them, and neither were fast enough for the demon bearing down on them like hell itself.

The first managed to get the gun up just as the filament zipped around his hand, sinking in immediately, blood pooling in the lines formed. With a jerk, and a twist of her hips, she brings them both around to catch up on the man with the wooden club. The screams of the man behind her fueled the other's terror. As he brought the club up, she swiftly batted it away with the crowbar, then trapped him against the wall with a booted foot.

The man stood no chance.

Her appropriated crowbar was sent up into the man's eye, stopping only when it reached the back of his brain. It had happened in the blink of an eye; so fast, too fast for a human. The body slumped, fell at an odd angle from its standing position. The other man, the screaming man, received another pull, and the entirety of his hand went missing from his arm. He shrieks, causing a sound much akin to a "tch" come from her lips. Whipping the garrote through the air, she effortlessly, neatly removes the man's head from his shoulders.

Snapping the garrote in a quick circle, she seals it up and stores it again. Blood rendered black on her suit, but not the mask. Holding out her hand to Claire, she pulls the young woman along, stepping over the carnage with ease.

"Almost there, Claire. Just a bit further." Except now, the really hard part came. Just in front of the door they need would be the exit for most of the inmates, and as likely a killing field as she'd ever seen.

"Cole, we're at the track. Hit a bit of a glitch. Where are you?"

<------ Eleanor's room

Claire followed behind Eleanor trying her best to quiet her footsteps by walking heel to toe. Though not being the stealth specialist the other woman was her movements weren't quite as quiet but they weren't very loud either. Her pistol was drawn from it's holster but kept aimed down toward the ground both her hands wrapped securely around the grip her finger off the trigger for the moment. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it tonight but some inkling feeling told her the chances of that happening were highly unlikely. Claire. She saw a slight motion come from the woman in front of her gesturing for her to go press against the wall. Claire immediately did so pressing her back to the wall taking a brief moment to switch off the safety of her weapon.

Her eyes were drawn to what had caught the spies own attention and Claire scowled. The door to the infirmary appeared to have been forced into. "Should have known locking the door wouldn't stop those psychos..." Claire thought bitterly. At Eleanor's urging she moved to the front near the edge of the door not entirely sure what the other woman had in mind. As the woman began to count down from three she felt a shove come from behind her pushing her across the opening of the doorway. Once Claire had made it to the other side of the doorway she pressed her back flat against the wall once more shifting her finger onto the trigger of her weapon as she heard voices drifting out from the doorway.

As Eleanor made her way across the doorway as well she felt the woman's fingers ghost across the skin of her upper arm as she passed her by. Taking this as a indication to follow Claire did so sparing small glances back behind them as she followed the operative deeper into the complex. As they continued through the complex the hallways seemed empty for the most part unless one counted the corpses that littered the floor from past battles raged between guards and convicts.

As they arrived at what was once the first reinforced security door Claire watched as Eleanor picked up what appeared to be a length of metal rod watching her test the makeshift weapon. As Eleanor turned to speak giving her instruction on what to do if the worst should happen Claire nodded in affirmation. She took a moment to take a breath to steady her nerves and she tightened her hands around the grip of her firearm. As they continued onward Claire could hear screams echoing out from one of the doorways they'd passed but like Eleanor she wasn't exactly in any rush to go investigate whatever was occurring within.

As they continued onward Claire stopped as two burly looking convicts stepped out of one of the doorways ahead of the pair. Claire was too far to make out the looks on their faces but their body language was all she needed to know of their intentions. Claire raised her pistol towards the pair of men but as Eleanor spoke Claire replied only with a small nod and a short response "Got it." Claire whispered.

The next few moments seemed to go by in flash as she watched the black blur that was Eleanor rush toward the pair ahead. And in what seemed like seconds both men lay dead. Claire stared eyes wide in shock not particularly in disgust but at the pure speed the woman had ended the confrontation. Taking Eleanor's hand her eyes were drawn to the corpses of both men as Eleanor pulled her deeper into the complex. One man had the metal rod that Eleanor had been wielding lodged in his head while the other's head was cleaved cleanly from his shoulders staining the walls and floors with blood.

Claire spared a brief glance back as Eleanor pulled them forward she briefly recalled screams coming from both men as they died and she could only hope none of the other maniacs around had heard. Though judging from what was occurring in the mess hall it was more likely than not that they'd grown used to hearing screams by now.

He'd been lucky so far, managing to slip past the few skirmishes created by the prisoners who happened to be moving about the base when the power suddenly went down. From the sounds radiating down the hallway from the way he'd come, they were still raging even now. For all he knew, the two men he'd sent down the side hall to the armory were already being overwhelmed. As unfortunate as that would be, it only meant that Cole had to move that much faster to get off this floor. Of course, speeding up had suddenly become far more difficult the moment he entered the open area which not only contained the elevator, but the hallway to the cell blocks. While the guards in other parts of the facility were no doubt still fighting as best they could, it appeared as though a number of convicts had broken through and were making their way down the hallway towards Cole's current position.

Only one of them appeared to be armed with a firearm for now while the rest carried an assortment of shivs and makeshift bats. Nocking an arrow in one smooth motion as he came to a stop in the open area before the elevators, Brandon drew back on his customized bow and let the broad head fly without hesitation. Soaring straight and true, the titanium missile punched through the gun toting prisoner's forehead, the transferred momentum taking the man off his feet and crashing to the floor with a stifled grunt.

If any of the other rioters cared about their friend's death, they didn't show it in the least. Unfortunately for them, Cole had no intention of letting them off with only one casualty. Hitting the trigger in his bow, the primed explosive arrow sticking out of the dead man's skull exploded in a shower of red mist, catching the survivors off guard. A few hit the deck and covered the backs of their necks while others simply turned back in utter confusion. Either way, they were sitting ducks as Brandon sent another explosive arrow into their ranks with similar, thunderous results.

Readying another arrow, the archer shifted his thumb from the full draw position to return Eleanor's latest message. "Just got to the elevator. We got a crowd coming up from the cell blocks." Despite the situation, Cole's tone still possessed its characteristic detachment, almost mechanical as his body went through the heavily practiced motions of the draw and release while awaiting the arrival of his fellow agents.

There were voices, and the chaotic hustle of footsteps up ahead, but that wasn't what told her a "situation" was near. No, that would be the resounding pop heard only a second after she'd contacted Cole, telling her that yes, the man is indeed in combat and yes, there were enough targets to pose a large enough threat that the archer was required to break out his fun toys.

But their hallways were split - him on one side, her and the medic on the other - and that meant they would be running up on one another blind.

Well, perhaps not totally blind.

Encouraging Claire against the wall as they came to the final door between them and the melee beyond, the spy took a slow breath, and placed a gloved hand on its cool surface.

"You can stay here, or you can keep with us. If you stay, you're on your own. Come with, and there will be fighting. Up to you." She turns back slightly, really just a turn of her shoulders. "If you come...be ready. I won't be able to keep tabs on you the entire time."

With that, she eases the door open, crouched low and sliding smoothly through the small space; she doesn't hold the door open, assuming the medic will either follow right behind her, or allow the door to completely close between them. Whatever she chooses, she will have to keep pace, because things were about to get ugly.

Convicts had streamed past in a motley assortment of anger and unbridled glee, too focused on the explosions and the arrows to notice a black shape stalking them from the adjacent corridor. Eleanor eases up, her footsteps silent as she watches another man go down with an arrow through his neck.

It was then that a straggler became aware of the newcomer to their game, but before he could shout out to his mates, a thin line whipped around his neck, and then retreated.

His head parted from his body with a sickening, slurpy crunch.

Now engaged, the spy darts into the fray, garrote zipping down low, taking off the leg of a convict as he turned back to flee. His body pitched forward, and his scream was cut short as the woman twisted to bring the garrote snapping through the middle of his head. Her turn steps her out of the way in time to dodge the falling pile of meat; as she finishes the move, however, her handgun is out and ready, putting a round through the neck, and then the chest of another convict.

An arrow zipped past her head close enough that she could hear the scrape of it against the faceplate. The maniac behind her twisted away, grunting with the impact; Eleanor nodded once as thank you to her partner.

This messy dance continued until someone announced that it is the "blonde bitch" they were dealing with, and that changed the tone of the scene. Evidently, she was not well liked amongst those in this group, which just made the night even better.

"And here I thought I was the most personable person on base." The quip came just as a man rushed her, his meaty hands wielding the bar to a large weight set. His swing was aimed for her head, but a parry by the garrote left him handling a much shorter pipe.

An immediate follow-up kick to his lower jaw sent his head snapping around, and his body to the floor. She didn't know how much longer they would need to keep this up, but she did know just how much time they had left.

"We've got sixteen minutes before emergency power goes down. Then we start to suffocate."

As they continued down the hall Claire could hear faint pops resounding from somewhere nearby. Where exactly Claire couldn't exactly pinpoint but the sound alone made Claire a bit tense. As they came upon a door near the end of the hall the sounds of combat could be heard more clearly along with shouts and screams of whoever was unfortunate to be on the receiving end of an apparent ass kicking.

As Eleanor placed her hand upon the door Claire took a deep breath once more prepared to face whatever may be on the other side. But rather than opening it immediately the woman turned slightly to acknowledge the medic first giving Claire a chance to back out now rather than continue onward. The corners of Claire's lips turned down in a slight frown as she shook her head "We've come this far It'd be a waste for me to turn back now." Claire whispered.

She was scared for sure but she couldn't think of anyone who wasn't afraid of facing what could be possible death. Those who claimed not to fear death were one of three things. Either A.Crazy, B.Lying or C.Deadly. But regardless of how scared she was now wasn't the time for her to cower and hide underneath a desk in some locked office somewhere. She was a United States Army Combat Medic and she'd be damned before she ran away when push came to shove.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Claire said just before Eleanor pushed open the door to the next hall. As the woman slipped through the door Claire followed right after the muzzle of her service pistol aimed toward the ground until the first few convicts came into sight. Holding her fire for now Claire kept her weapon trained on the group ahead as she saw Eleanor's sleek black-clad frame slip into the midst of the group.

It didn't take long for a few of the convicts to take notice of the medic a few came forward armed with their own makeshift weapons ranging from broken chair legs to crudely constructed shivs, One of them even seemed to be carrying a piece of piping ripped from the toilets in the lavatories. Claire immediately leveled her pistol to the first man to come within 20 meters of her taking a deep breath Claire took a second to shift her aim towards the center mass of the man's face before exhaling pulling the trigger as she did so.

Her pistol kicked against her palms as the bullet left the barrel ripping a clean hole through the man's nose exiting out the back showering those behind him with bits of skull fragments and brain matter and of course plenty of blood. With the first of their comrades having been felled the remaining convicts either scrambled for cover or took their chances charging forward toward the medic unleashing loud battlecries as they brandished their weapons. Luckily for the medic a fair number of convicts seemed to be more intelligent than they looked as they scrambled to find some semblance of cover. Leaving only 4 of the more less intelligent ones to rush the medic like Conscripts at the battle of Stalingrad.

Shifting her aim to the man leading the charge Claire shifted her aim downward toward the man's knee and pulled the trigger. The shot shifted a bit lower than she'd anticipated but still granted the desired effect as the bullet shattered the man's shin and exited out of his calf sending him falling to the ground screaming. One of the men behind him tripped over his fallen form while the other two leaped over him in their charge. Shifting her aim towards the other two men Claire unleashed two more shots towards each man aiming towards center mass on each. One of the men hit in the chest fell almost instantaneously lying motionless whilst the other managed to take more than a few steps before following suit falling forward and letting his momentum slide him across the floor until his body came to a stop not far from Claire's position.

The last man who had fallen seemed less enthusiastic about the assault he'd so eagerly joined only seconds before as he looked towards his fallen allies. But before another thought could be made to second guess his decision further another bullet ripped through his skull ending any further thoughts before they could be made. Claire pressed herself against the wall keeping her weapon at the ready as she continued onward trying to keep pace somewhat with Eleanor but at the same time staying far enough away to ensure she didn't get in the woman's way. However something Eleanor said over the earpiece she'd received drew her attention for a moment "Wait suffocate? What do you mean?" Claire asked

There'd be little time to discuss their lack of air. Two large brutes, both hopped up on the pills they recently ingested, came barging through the hall of bodies. They fared slightly better than those other chumps, considering they brought some improvised weapons with them in the form of a pipe and broken cabinet door from the infirmary. Hanging back was the tall, dark haired inmate, now hobbling along with a limp. He expected them to clear through the medic with ease, one of them already swinging the pipe at her soft, squishy head. The other tossed his door at the archer, intending to ram him after. Their main goal was the armory, though, which the leader intended to slip into when the soldiers were either dead or thoroughly distracted.

With the arrival of Harkness and the medic, the tide of prisoners had become much easier to deal with but the archer was still far from pleased. They were never going to get anywhere putting convicts down one by one and a battle of attrition would mean a loss for both sides. His initial haste to get downstairs was motivated purely by a desire to reactivate the collars as quickly as possible but Harkness had probably already figured the far more pressing danger of this power outage. Hell, it probably occurred to her before it even crossed Cole's mind once. They were fighting on a time limit. Without the vent system up and running the air would only last so long in this sealed base. No matter what, the generators had to take priority.

The assassin decided to sweep his gaze over the clearing one final time before heading to the elevators. Harkness had well and truly broken the advance of the remaining stragglers and the medic was keeping a cool air on clean up. Unfortunately, they had some new company. It was moments like this that reinforced the necessity of Cole's perception training programs. He might not have been the strongest or the fastest guy around, but there wasn't much that his eyes couldn't track. Two brutes bearing down on the medic and himself with a third con hanging in the back watching the action. It was a bad time for a press. Harkness was knee high in mutilated rioters, the medic was focused on backing her up and there wasn't enough time to bring down all three of these guys.

Spinning to his left, Cole drew two arrows from his quiver as the weaponized door sailed by harmlessly. The master archer nocked both of the projectiles with practiced ease before taking as much of a draw as he could with his bow held horizontally. Steeling himself against the inevitability of pain, Brandon blocked out all unnecessary information around him and placed his trust in his two teammates to keep any roving madmen off his back for the instant he needed to pull off this trick.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the gears finally synced in his head and he found his perfect shot. The twin arrows leaped from his customized bow, flying past the charging brute's ears towards their true targets, center mass on the brute attacking Claire and the spectator in the back respectively. Though he had supreme confidence in his accuracy, Brandon was not quite quick enough to pull off a shot like that and avoid his brute's charge. The giant's rush caught him square on, sending the archer crashing back into the elevator doors.

She'd been in rough situations before; hell, she'd been in rougher with Cole. But here, they were working against a very fast clock, one that was counting down with every arrow that flew past her, with every bullet that took another life. The spy knew they weren't making much headway, though they had stopped the general forward movement towards the armory and the second floor doors.

A hand darted out of the fray, reaching for her neck; her own hand whipped the garrote around and took the offending appendage off without a thought. However, she came to realize quickly that if they were to make any dent in the flow of criminals, she would need leverage with her attacks. Instantly, the garrote is back in its pouch and her now-free hand slides over the grip of her knife.

That's when an arm jerked her nearly off her feet from behind.

Her knife and hand were trapped, but her handgun was still free. In swift retaliation, she aims down low, shooting the man in the foot. Immediately, she was released as the man jerked back, cursing in pain. Her knife now free, she stabs it backwards, catching the man in the gut just as another rushed her from the front. Using the weight of the man behind her she rocks back to kick the rushing man in the chest, sending him off-course and into a friend.

From her left she catches sight of another convict closing in on her little dance party. Twisting around, pivoting on the man still impaled on her blade, she brings up her handgun once more.

Before she can pull the trigger, an enormous convict plows through the rest, cutting her off from her target. Her eyes catch the medic squaring off against another large man, but she was more concerned with the one charging her partner. She watched as the archer nocked two arrows, and she knew immediately who he was aiming for.

So she made a hole.

Her raction times increased, her speed became unparalleled as she shot yet another man in the face, and then slashed the throat of an oncoming female convict. All of this lead up to a space just wide enough in the fray for her to focus on the man currently impacting the assassin.

She lines up a shot within a second, and squeezes the trigger three times, her aim for the very large man's back.

Eleanor doesn't have a chance to fire another shot as two arms whip out and latch onto her, one gripping her right arm, and the other around her neck. Of course, she immediately began to fight back, but her mind was more focused on their overall situation.

"Cole, get to the damn door. Claire, run. Don't worry about anyone else." Her words are hoarse, but they are clear; she needs someone to get downstairs, no matter who it was. Well, so long as it wasn't one of the men currently attempting to murder her.

Claire's eyes widened as two large inmates barged through the crowd of inmates crammed into the hall. It didn't take long for the two brutish men to split off in pursuit of their own preferred targets. Unfortunately for Claire one of them seemed to be particularly interested in her. As the monstrous man closed the distance between himself and the medic Claire was able to see as the man cocked his arm back to swing his makeshift club. Claire quickly dropped down into a crouch as the pipe swung over her head. "Jesus Christ! That could have been me!" Claire hissed she quickly took off kicking off the floor with her back foot to give herself a small extra burst of speed to escape her attacker as she took off down the hall.

All around her it seemed as if all hell was breaking loose. Body parts were flying about everywhere and blood was being spilled almost by the damn gallon. Up ahead she could catch a brief glance of Eleanor holding off multiple convicts at once. And even farther she could see the outline of the other brutish man up ahead. She could hear Eleanor's voice speaking in her ear faintly telling anyone to get out and continue what they'd set out to achieve. "Fuck!" Claire hissed she didn't want to leave but apparently with the time restriction now set on them they didn't have much time left.

"I'm heading down you two better stay alive god dammnit!!" Claire said over her earpiece as she pushed through the hall taking shots at any convicts who were in her immediate way as she made her way to the door. By the time she'd reached the door she'd fired off a total of 5 shots leaving only three more rounds left in the magazine of her service pistol. Standing between the door and Cole and herself was one more brute like man. Claire paused for a moment and struggled to steady her breathing as she raised her pistol centering the sights on the back of the man's head. Her aim swayed a bit as she struggled to steady herself. She quickly squeezed off two shots from her pistol before pressing the magazine release on her pistol.

As soon as the magazine fell free of the magazine well Claire slapped a new one into place advancing as she fired four more shots towards the center of the man's back hoping to eliminate him before leaving the area hopefully evening the playing field for her comrades.

The one kept advancing, running up to the archer slammed against the door and intending to smash him with his fists until his head became a lumpy smear on the metal. He'd take the bullets in the back, but aside from a grunt and a small stumble, they did little to stop his advance. He was on far too many medications to care right now. Shaky bullets from the other one wouldn't even hit him. The rest, though, would probably send him to the ground. By that time, though, he'd be through with whatever actions he'd attempted to do to the man. Those dirty, disgusting actions...

The little girl tried to run from him, but he wasn't having that. She'd denied him his drugs too many times. He was getting some compensation after that. Other than the arrow, which he harmlessly caught in his beefy forearm, he'd been given a free pass to chase down that medic. With all the focus being on that brainless moron, he - with his massive brain - had a perfect shot with the length of pipe right at the back of her head. A split skull wouldn't be a problem; the rest of her would match soon enough.

It was all going according to plan. One of those brutes looked to be taking some damage, but it didn't much matter. He dove to the ground as the arrow came whizzing by, barely missing his head. That was not part of the plan. If that brainless bag of muscle didn't grind him into the floor first, he'd have to have a word with that archer. Both the women seemed to be taken care of. Once they died, they could continue on to the armory.

The scrawny looking brains of the operation in the far back and the brute with the pipe were still alive. Not good. Harkness was starting to get swarmed. Really not good. They were getting still running out of air by the second. Exciting.

Brandon Cole was, in all honesty, a terribly bored, borderline depressed individual. Things that drew his attention often came easily and more often than not he just walked away disappointed. That was the main reason why he enjoyed working with the VWAT, or at least came as close to enjoyment as a man like Cole could come. These missions forced him to work for it, to really put his life on the line. With the situation as bad as it was, a very rare thing occurred within the archer.

He started smiling.

The incoming brute was intent on finishing Brandon off with some more flailing of those big meaty arms but Harkness' shots caused just enough of a slip for Cole to exploit. Drawing a teargas arrow, the archer slipped underneath the giant's crashing fists, allowing them to strike only the metal elevator doors. Having taken the giant's back, Cole had no intention of allowing the lummox to interfere any longer. Holding his arrow in a reverse grip, he stabbed the razor sharp broad head towards the center of the giant's back, aiming to sever his spinal column just between the shoulder blades. The brute could be on all the meds in the world but that wouldn't do much to keep him up when he suddenly lost all feeling below the neck.

The next priority was backing up Harkness. Tearing the arrow free from its new resting place, the archer drew it back on his bow and loosed it with practiced ease. With that trajectory, the wide broad head should graze the throat of the nearest man attempting to restrain Harkness enough to bleed him out before sticking into the floor in the midst of the struggle. From there it was a simple matter of pressing the trigger switch on his bow to release a small cloud of tear gas into the unprotected faces of the men centering on Harkness. As an added benefit, the detonation command would trigger the explosive arrow currently embedded in the arm of the second brute still chasing down Claire. Explosives were fun.

Assuming that he'd been able to successfully neutralize the brute that had been attacking him, the third and final priority was getting down the elevator. One more explosive arrow placed in the slit between the dented elevator doors and the subsequent boom that it gave off would be more than enough to send the stainless steel doors tumbling down the elevator shaft and opening their passage to the lower levels.

The situation could be going better, but alternately they were going pretty well, all things considered. It seemed the general populace of the entire prison ward was focused on her, sans the two massive meat sacks targeting Cole and the medic, and that surprisingly made her job slightly easier.

And she was willing to bet her entire fuzzy sock collection that Cole was having fun.

That aforementioned convict disaster was closing in fast as she was lifted bodily by the neck and shoulders by a man behind. She uses his gifted momentum to swing up a leg and snap kick an oncoming prisoner in the head, twisting his neck around and sending him to the floor. At the same moment, her right arm was being wrenched up, torqued uncomfortably by a second man; she recognized this one as a not particularly violent criminal, and part of her felt as though he was only attacking from loyalty to the herd.

And then a vermilion spray gushed from his neck, reeling him back as an arrow sliced through skin and artery. He loosened his grip, enough to allow her to twist the bruised appendage to a normal position, firing off a single shot into the gut of a squat convict charging her from the side. It wasn't a pretty shot, and most of her aim came just from sheer proximity to the target. She doesn't have another chance to fire as the man on her arm suddenly dropped, his weight pulling her - and the man latched onto her neck - further into the fray.

Realizing this could be a very bad thing, Eleanor swings her left arm around, angling the long knife behind her, under the ribs of her grappling partner and shoving it nearly into his heart. Instantly, he drops, releasing the spy as he collapses into a meaty, bloody heap. This leaves her staggered for balance as the convict on her arm refuses to release her.

But none of that matters as the arrow amongst them detonates with a cloud of noxious gas.

The entire tangle of people scattered, some of them realizing what had just happened, while others afraid of just what the fumes could entail. It gave her the opening to shake off the clinging, dying man and dart past them all towards the medic; her suit and mask protected her from the gas, but she didn't want to hang around any longer than required in that clusterfuck.

Dropping the mag from her handgun and reloading on the fly, the blonde zips past any stragglers and for a moment only, takes in the site of a particular inmate simply standing and taking in the scene before him; he was waiting, she knew, and she could take a wild guess as to what he wanted. It didn't matter in the moment, however, as the brute closing on the medic suddenly reeled as his arm quite literally exploded. Darting past him, she puts a bullet in his stomach for good measure and streaks to the door.

"Cole, bypass the fourth floor. We'll meet on the fifth."

She wrenches the door to the next floor open, and shoves the medic inside, covering their exit as the heavy door swings closed. "Run. No sense being quiet now." Eleanor ushers the woman forward, sheathing her wicked long knife and returning her garrote to her hand as they pound down the hallway.

"Once we get in this room, don't stop. For anything. I don't know if what's in there has escaped, and some of it isn't pretty."

[[OOC: On the first of her two spare magazines.]]

As Claire ran past the large brutish convict she spared a quick glance back to see if the man was pursuing her. What she did see and lucky for her she did indeed see it in time was the man's arm cocked back pipe in hand preparing to hit a homerun on her skull. Claire dropped down just as the pipe swung over her in the space her head once occupied. Quickly turning and pressing her back against the wall she leveled her pistol aiming the muzzle towards the brute's face but before she could pull the trigger an explosion went off from within the man's arm showering her in blood and gore from what was his arm.

Claire blinked for a moment as her mind registered what the fuck had just happened. But before she could properly wrap her mind around it Eleanor had managed to free herself from the tangle of bodies she'd previously been lost in. The next few moments went by in a blur of activity as Claire watched Eleanor wrench open the door to the stairwell access and shoved her inside. Claire stumbled a bit gripping onto the railing she wanted a moment to get her bearings but a quick order from Eleanor got her moving down the staircase. Her mind was struggling to piece together everything that was going on she knew the basic gist of it but new issues were coming into play.

The first being their soon to be a big oxygen issue that she'd heard about and still had no clue about. The second being that the convicts had gotten their hands on the Infirmary's pharmaceutical stores and who knows what the hell else. And judging from Eleanor's explanation there were worse things to come on the next floor. As they moved downstairs Claire tried to count the number of rounds she likely had left in her sidearm. She'd fired four shots after she'd reloaded meaning she had twelve more left plus her last magazine giving her about 27 shots to work with before she'd have to put those knives Eleanor had given her to use.

"I should have paid attention more in CQC training..." Claire thought bitterly as she tried to recall some of the basics. "Where are we going anyway I'm not exactly as well versed with the complex as you guys are." Claire asked as they continued towards their destination. If she wanted to be of any use she needed to be better informed or else she'd more likely be running in circles like a chicken with no head.

Tiny man dodged his punch. His bones broke, but he couldn't feel it. He used his elbow to swing back and strike the guy in the chest. It'd probably connect based on his position, but he wouldn't be up to follow up on it, with an arrow blasting through his spine and making him fall over all top heavy. He'd have to lay there as everything fun happened around him.

The other man was even less lucky, his arm bursting into pieces next to him. Blood gushed out of his stump, killing him within a few seconds. The bullet lodged itself in his corpse before the gas exploded. The leader covered his mouth his hand and hobbled to the side down the hall. This was not what he'd planned for. The two armory guards decided they'd had enough porn for the evening and finally got on the job, firing automatic riffles into the crowd to try and disperse them back into the depths of the base.

"Do what you need to do," one of them yelled, four other guns slung over his back. "We'll hold 'em off and try to get some weapons to the other guards. God speed!" He blasted through the rest of his magazine, loading in another before his partner could run out.

As the hoard receded away from the gunfire, the two guards followed, shooting in bursts as they ran. Having pressed himself up against the wall, the lead convict was missed entirely. Peaking his head out to see the two women escaping down the stairwell. The man was preoccupied with blowing the doors off the elevator. The noise would disguise his movements as he hobbled over through the main area, trying to make it to the armory and continue his escape plan.

(OOC) Just a note. Elevator doesn't go to floor five. You have to use the one on the fourth or go down the stairs to get there. They've separated that floor from the others to make it harder to reach on purpose.

His back hurt, his chest hurt, they were still running out of oxygen, and despite it all, Brandon Cole was having one hell of a good time. Nodding his thanks to the armory guards, the archer hopped into the open void of the elevator shaft, grabbing onto the opposite wall midway between the the third and fourth floor. Dropping down once more, Brandon was forced to come to the very unfortunate realization that the elevator shaft did not extend down to the lowest floor. It was an unfortunate setback but there was nothing he could do about it now. The only option was to proceed through the fourth floor and on to the fifth from there.

Drawing one of his knives, the assassin shoved it into the crack between the fourth floor doors and pried them open wide enough to squeeze his body through. As soon as he was in, the archer returned his knife to its sheath and nocked another arrow while scanning the room. All he really know about this floor was that it housed some sort of research and development wing. As it was, Cole didn't have the slightest clue what could be down there waiting for him which flew in the face of his normal style. There was no intel on his target, no established game plan, and no time to stalk things out and really study the situation. In short, it was all sorts of entertaining for the normally bored marksman currently edging along the wall of the room towards the service elevator.

OOC: My apologies for the lack of real activity in this post.

They didn't have long before they hit the heavy, reinforced door to the fourth floor. With nothing but the emergency lights to shed light on the dark, labyrinthine room before them, Eleanor knew the medic might have a difficult time finding the other side. The blonde had no issue, of course, thanks to her mask, but that still left one of them half-blind as they trailed through the maze of cages and "experiment" rooms.

She holsters her handgun while her free hand trails over the door release, fingers curling around it as she speaks.

"Stay very close, Claire. From what I know about this place...just stay close."

The spy cracks open the weighty door and pauses for a half-moment to listen inside; nothing seemed to be moving, but that didn't mean much in the way of certainty. Sliding through, she beckoned the medic to follow as she skirted the first few rows of tables, cages, and shelves; it looked as though the empty cages had been empty long before the power had been cut, making her breathe a little easier with every one they passed.

And then the elevator doors groaned and protested, sending her stepping around the other woman and urging her to duck below the plane of the tables. A clear view of the elevator wasn't present, but she could see a long side-angle of them as they were worked open; her hand had already drawn the long knife out of precaution. Before she can say anything, the elevator opens and her infallible partner came slinking out, arrow drawn.

She quirks a grin and motions to Claire to continue on with her.

"Cole, you look like such a moron when you're enjoying yourself."

Eleanor guides the medic and herself closer to the archer, keeping in mind her surroundings. If they kept this pace, they would be to the fifth floor door in no more than a couple of minutes.

(OOC) Skipping.

From out of the crack in a broom closet door, a scientist of Scottish descent emerged. Armed with a pistol containing only two remaining rounds, he was relieved to see people who weren't rioters be the first ones down here. "Blood hell!" he whispered as loudly as possible. "The hell did you batch of morons get put in charge of a facility like this? One of you all comes down saying they have clearance and need to do maintenance on the generator, then all the power's out, the experiments are free, and my mates are all ripped in half." The whole time, he cautiously darted his head around the room, half ducked like he was anticipating something.

"I hope you all know how to round all these things up. And another thing, I-" He was interrupted by a distinct lack of vertebrae, a half-dead vampire biting through his shoulder afterwards. These had been a batch of the undead the scientists, including the recently deceased Doctor Morrison there, had been experimenting on. All of them had gone without blood for at least two weeks now, their bodies like rotting corpses and their minds a blank for anything but food. The rest - six in total - joined their friend to attack the three other meals that had just entered their domain.

From off in the distance, a wingless pixie watched with glee as his torturer was murdered, remembering that another human in that group was the one who destroyed his flight and took him to this place in the beginning. He'd take great pleasure in seeing that one die.

Slinking through the darkness of the lab to rejoin Eleanor and Claire once more, the archer didn't let Harkness' teasing crack the smile painted across his features. It had been far too long since he had the chance to really cut loose and enjoy himself in a panic situation like this. Still peering into the darkness, Brandon spared a moment to glance in his partner's direction. "I finally cheer up and this is the thanks I get? Tough crowd," he said, returning his gaze to his inspection with a spark of renewed enjoyment just in time for the lab tech to make his appearance.

Normally, Brandon would have begrudgingly told the scientist to shut up until they had a proper idea of just what was going on in the shadows of the lab but he never got the chance as a starving vampire promptly descended upon the Scottish man. Having an arrow already nocked for just such an occasion, Brandon loosed the titanium missile immediately, aiming to strike the newly revealed vampire in the center of the forehead while its fangs were sunk into the idiot's shoulder. Unfortunately, even more newly released supernatural prisoners quickly arose from the darkness and began making their way towards the threesome.

The one saving grace thus far was that they had been able to regroup in front of the secondary elevator shaft which presumably led to their final destination on the floor below. The only problem would be surviving long enough to get it open. Pulling another arrow, Brandon took a full draw and let loose on the nearest of the vampires. "Somebody get those doors open!"

Allowing a grin to crease her lips in response to her partner's quip, Eleanor ushered Claire closer to the elevator bank, hoping they would be able to skirt anything nasty until the final floor. As soon as a modest closet opened, however, she was stepping in front of the medic again, long-knife in hand; the garrote would go through literally anything, and in such close quarters, that something very well could be unintentionally someone they needed.

But as the distraught face of a researcher - Dr. Morrisy? Morrison? She knew his face, and his project, but not the name, not exactly - came into view, she eased her stance a bit, allowing the man to talk while her eyes scanned the dim room. Her attention was pulled back to the man as he ranted about another individual claiming to work on the generators, but before she could question him, her mask caught the briefest of glances at something moving amongst the tables.

"Claire, I need you to-"

Her words were cut off abruptly as the researcher was attacked, and swiftly pulled down into his own blood and gore. Shit. Not how she wanted this to go, but at least Cole was closer and they had a shot at the elevators now. Speaking of which...her partner had voiced the thought out loud, which left Eleanor whipping around to the service elevator doors, slipping around Cole and relieving him of one of his knives in one smooth motion.

"On it. Give me a second."

She jams the longer blade in between the doors, and then shimmies his pilfered knife just above it. Gripping tight her knife - and feeling no pain from the edge thanks to the suit - she shoves down, while her other hand jerks up on his knife. The doors are reluctant to give way, and she takes a second more to gather her strength, before repeating the process, this time feeling the doors pry open, displaying a cavernous space that held an elevator car at the bottom.

"Time to go."

The spy sweeps past her partner again - politely re-sheathing his stolen blade - before settling in front of the medic, her silvered long-knife in hand. The six that she had counted earlier were making a move, but once they got to the next level, it shouldn't pose that much of an issue, particularly with the elevator car to help.

((OOC: After the DM post, we can assume this didn't happen.))

Claire allowed herself to be led deeper into the facility by Eleanor her visibility getting worse the farther they went. Luckily however it seemed the darkness was hardly a problem for the other woman traveling alongside the medic. As Eleanor continued to navigate the darkness of this strange place they found themselves in Claire found her mind wandering to the lingering issue that she still knew almost nothing about. What was all this talk about suffocation surely there had to be some way for air to get into the facility. Even quarantine procedures in USAMRIID didn't dictate the cutting off of oxygen to a zone on lock down and USAMRIID's quarantine procedures weren't something to shake a stick at either.

She pushed the thoughts out of mind however and instead devoted her focus towards more important matters. Such as making sure no undesirable pursuers had followed them down here. She spared quick glances back trying to see any kind of discrepancies in the solid darkness any kind of movement that could be considered a threat in any way. For the most part it was the same just a solid wall of black it felt a bit intimidating to look at it.

The medic quickly whipped around as she heard the groan of metal and at Eleanor's signal ducked behind a nearby desk. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the grip of her pistol her finger tensed on the trigger waiting to face whatever was coming. However rather than a drugged up convict or some monstrous beast a man slinked through the cracks in the doors. It took Claire a few moments to recognize the man as Brandon Cole at least she thought that was what his name was according to his medical record she'd recognized both agents when they'd stepped into the infirmary but hadn't really bothered to try to put a name to the faces.

But considering she was basically clinging to the two of them for survival at this point it was likely a good idea to stop referring to Eleanor as "The woman." and Brandon as "The archer." In the medic's mind. Claire smiled at the familiar banter between the two agents. Her body jolted a bit as a new voice not belonging to either agent cut through the darkness her aim was nearly set upon the Scottish doctor but she stopped halfway upon acquiring her shot. She breathed a sigh of relief glad that it wasn't another convict or worse for the most part things were going rather well so far.

That was until the Scottish doctor's sudden lack of a spine in a very literal sense occurred. Claire's aim snapped up her pistol held tightly focusing on the creature feasting on the dead man's shoulder. Claire's eyes widened at the sight of the men, No the creatures that seemed to form from the darkness of the room coming forward to with the instinct to feed shining in their hungry eyes. It brought back horrible memories. Memories of Facility 17 where she'd seen a dozens of her co-workers transformed into the very creatures she saw in front of her now.

Claire stepped back her gun outstretched in front of her, Her hands were shaking as she took aim at one of the approaching creatures. Even in the darkness she could see the creature's rotting visage it's snapping jaws and blood stained maw. Her breath quickened her mind willed her to shoot to pull the trigger but her body was frozen. "Get a grip! Shoot or your going to die you stupid bitch!!" Claire's mind screamed at her. Before she could muster up the focus and courage to act on her thoughts though someone stepped in front of her luckily her body was still frozen or she might have pulled the trigger on instinct.

Claire's eyes looked upon the person standing in front of her it was Eleanor standing before her blade in hand like some sort of protector. Lowering her gun Claire closed her eyes taking a deep breath to steady her frayed nerves. "Get a grip there's more people involved in this other than you stupid." Claire muttered to herself shaking her head.

The first vampire was felled. He body was propelled through the air and thumped to the ground in the darkness almost in slow motion, Jason Derulo's "Whatcha' Say" playing in the background. Who was this vampire? Did he have a life? Friends? A lover? Was he employed? What was he doing when the military came and collected him for research? Meh, no one cares.

One arrow pierced the shoulder of another vampire, sending it to the ground screeching. It got back up and continued to attack, though. Another dropped down behind him, intending to bite through his neck and get a good meal.

If that woman thought she could just waltz on up to the elevator and pry that thing open in a stressful and tough job, she'd be sorely mistaken. Two vampires sprinted towards her, clawing at her face and body to rip her to pieces before sucking her blood.

The last two went for the medic. One dashed into a wall and bounced off it, denting the metal as it blasted forward like a missile. The second took a swooping arc in the air to come down on her head, ripping it from her shoulders to feed from its gushing stump. They'd eat well tonight. She'd even closed her eyes to make it easier for them.

Things were getting bad again. Tight spaces, not a great deal of distance, and multiple supernatural targets to say nothing of the constant time limit they were under. There would (hopefully) be time to reflect on his own mental and emotional health for reacting in such a way but for the moment, Brandon Cole paid little attention to the fact that this was quite possibly the happiest he'd been in several years. Six vampires left with Eleanor's primary attention seemingly on the door and Claire still working through the rigors of up close and personal combat with a monster; this called for rapid prioritization.

Step one was taking whatever easy kills they could. He'd already put an explosive arrow in the shoulder of the nearest vampire, driving it back just as another monster dropped down behind it. Cole immediately depressed the trigger on his bow, detonating the explosive to end the first creature's unlife when it was closest to its similarly enraged cohort. The second vampire was more than likely out of the immediate kill range but hopefully the sudden blast would be close enough to deliver superficial wounds and more importantly, throw it off balance long enough for him to deal with the other hostiles.

Step two was determining which direction to direct his support in. Eleanor was the more formidable of the two in close quarters but she was preoccupied with the door. Claire was in a potentially helpful position to lay down support fire but she'd frozen up. The priority was getting that door open which would normally mean focusing his full attention on the twosome moving on Harkness while the other two were momentarily stalled tearing Claire apart. That was probably the most efficient choice but there was no guarantee that both vampires would focus on Claire and no matter how cold he might be, Cole was no sociopath. He'd find a way to help both.

In an uncharacteristic move by the dedicated archer, Brandon dropped his custom bow and made a 180 degree turn. Unholstering his sidearm with his right hand, the assassin forcefully grabbed hold of the pistol in Claire's hand and yanked it into position to take aim at the vampires careening toward her. A weapon in each hand, Cole opened fire with both pistols on the vampires advancing on Harkness and Kelly. A normally foolish stunt, Brandon's finely tuned spatial awareness was the one saving grace that made this trick remotely possible. That and the fact that the relatively close quarters and starved bloodlust had significantly reduced the vampire's likely routes to the two female operatives. All the archer had to do was make sure there were enough bullets in the way to slow them down long enough for Eleanor to get the door open.

Time was beginning to catch up with them. There were too many moving parts at this point, and as she struggled with the damned door, she heard the announcement of yet another. An explosion - she feels safe in betting it was due to her partner - blew papers and loose items past her, pinging them off her suit and scattering against the floor. But beyond all of that, she felt the distinct lack of presence of another person behind her; it seemed Cole had taken up a different position, one most likely closer to the medic.

Knowing they were running out of time (and much needed space) Eleanor fuels as much strength as she can into prying open the large elevator doors. Just as they begin to scrape apart, she can feel the approach of malicious intent, a feeling that grew as she heard the rushing steps of something decidedly not her partner.

Abruptly, the doors fell open, and her knives are free in time to reach up to block an incoming swipe to her face, though a second vamp's claws raked across her chest, leaving no damage but bruising her skin under the matte grey material of her suit. The two creatures are weak, and have been shot more than a couple of times, slowing them considerably. Eleanor contorts her hips to kick the second vampire away from her, snapping it in the gut, knowing it wouldn't do much damage but moving it enough to get it out of immediate close combat. She allows the first vampire to bear down on her long enough to get it locked into combat before darting past it, leveraging all of its momentum into a forward tumble that she helped along with a well placed kick to the lower back.

If everything went well, it would fall through the open elevator shaft.

Before number one fell, however, Eleanor already had her long knife out and prepped to throw, the silver glinting maroon in the emergency light. Her sight was set just past the second of her attackers, to a creature bearing down on her partner. Its back is to her, so when she releases the silvered blade towards its head, it wouldn't have a chance to see it coming.

As soon as the blade left her hand, she'd dropped her partner's knife, and retrieved her garrote. It is unstrung on the fly, as she rushes her second vampire assailant before it has a chance to come to terms with the situation; her garrote would remove its head - and anything that stood in the way - before she moved on to the two attacking her partner and medic.

That is, assuming there would actually be two after her knife lodges in the brain of one of them.

"Time to fucking go, you two."

Claire found herself shaken from her own mental battle by the loud clang of one of the creatures struck the wall nearby having missed her in it's lunge. The other however was more on the mark but luckily the sound of her first attacker had given her just enough time to react to the second as she directed the muzzle of her pistol toward the creature driven by pure survival instinct. The barrel of the weapon was level with the creatures face before she pulled the trigger sending a slug of silver barreling through the air ripping through her attacker's face sending it flying back into the darkness from once it came.

She felt a hand close around hers and flinched a bit thinking that one of the other creatures had closed the distance to her. But rather than finding a blood thirsty shell of a human being she found Brandon directing the muzzle of her pistol while firing his own with his other hand. A small bud of fear was still sitting in the pit of her stomach but now her mind was more focused. Her near stroke with death had made sure of that now. Claire squeezed off a few shots in the direction of the oncoming vampires before directing her aim toward the creature that had impacted the wall nearby that was no doubt still recovering from it's unfortunate kiss with the wall.

Wasting little time Claire pulled the trigger of her pistol lodging two shots in the creature's side and one through the side of it's head quickly snuffing out any threat that it could pose to Claire or her companions. She heard Eleanor's voice come through clearly through the earpiece she had been provided and kept her back to the wall moving toward the elevator her pistol still held in her hands and directed toward the dark waiting for any other threats to rear their ugly heads. Her hands were shaking only slightly but not horribly enough to throw off her aim.