Snippet #1972529

"Mercury Team, spread out. I want full coverage, Axelson, I want you up high. Odgen you and Simms cut to the sides. Murphy you're with me." a figure moves in the shadow of a window, one hand pressed to the throat mic while the other fiddles with a small computer. Unseen listeners respond, moving to the positions queuing up on GPS devices. "Keep it tight, keep it quiet, and be ready. The device is primary, all else is expendable. Remember, we are not the only ones interested in this..Expect company."

As if prophecy that moment the door to the apartment burst in, several armed men in black suits filing in. They were pros, swept the entry, button-hooking to cover corners and providing cover for one another. They made one flaw however. They only brought six men. The first three move towards the rear bedroom, while the others move to sweep the rest of the two-bed-room home. Sticking to the walls, avoiding windows, they move as quietly as men in combat gear can. The first dies silently, lifted from his feet and his neck snapped. The other two catch a small break as the dead man drops his weapon with a clatter- they whirl, only to be blindsided from the side by a hulking blue form.

The massive arms sweep the first man about the head, cracking armor and bone with ease, allowing the monster to fling the body at the second knocking him to the floor and giving the thing time to step over and plant a boot across the windpipe, silence after a few wet gurgles. It took moments for three men to be ended. It was done both fast enough and quiet enough that the other team had no idea it was alone. The thud of the corpse being thrown was only a muffled bump, and was dismissed at once.

"Wrapped up on my end, you're up Nieves." the blue monster spoke, it's form flowing like fluid.

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Three men enter a bedroom, sweeping the corners and checking the sparse furnishings- only to realize moments later that the window faces the wrong way, overlooking a dumpster in an alley rather than the gathered crowd. Quickly moving they press against the wall, directly next to the door. They made noise entering this room, they know they have been heard. It's only moments until someone comes to investigate the racket; someone had to, it was a small apartment. They needed to take initiative. Leader ducks, sweeping the doorway as he takes a knee- the second moving to cover him from behind, weapon raised.

The last man steps to the side, unclasping a small cylinder from his vest and tossing it underhand into the other bedroom. Instantly thick foul smelling smoke begins to fill the air, the canister bouncing off of the wall within sputtering and emitting more and more smoke. Staying low the first man moves towards the doorway, one hand reaching up to activate his suit's mask system. Following the first, and activating the masks as well come the other two, quickly covering him from either side.

The first is dead before the other two even know they are under attack, a bolt of lightning taking his head off.

"Understood, engaging." glass shatters, a window broken, thinning the smoke enough to reveal the speaker- slight, slim, and covered from head to toe in light purple and silver flowing like living liquid. By the curves one could guess the sex as female, though the voice was dead and toneless. Her right arm seemed to be lodged in a small computer- upon closer inspection one would notice that the computer seemed to have bonded with the hand, merging with flesh and flowing to build something new. The arm raises, and ozone burns, as the computer shifts and clicks..parts sliding like a shotgun's for-end...before a second blast of electricity rips though the doorjamb and into the next man's shoulder, sending him back and into a sprawl.

Alone, and outgunned, the survivor tries to make a brave stand, raising his weapon to bear and letting rip- the silenced rifle coughing with each shot, stitching across the room in a panic burst...as a large blue arm sweeps in for a choke-hold. The gun falls to the floor with a clatter, as he kicks and struggles against a vice grip. Pressure builds, and light fades, consciousness fleeing. The last thing he sees before blacking out is the smaller female turning an uninteresting glance back out the window before speaking, "It's starting."