Snippet #2817327

It was a day much like three days ago. The sun was out, beaming across the Atlantic Ocean, but dark clouds hung in the skies above mainland North Carolina, a light mist of rain trickling down, but steadily moving westward, away from Atlas City.


In a part of the town’s more emptied, industrial areas, a small warehouse was abnormally busy. Certainly for a part of town meant to essentially be abandoned. The old red brick building, a mere four stories tall, and not much wider than a small apartment building, was quiet from the outside. Inside however, a group of thirty or so Witchfinders hurriedly packed up crates, filled with bottles and syringes of the powerful substance they had used in their attack on Atomic Anne’s.


“Let’s get this finished up quick, we don’t have much time left.” One of the Witchfinders spoke to his comrades. Today was the memorial. Once it started, there could be hundreds, even thousands, of supers in Atlas City. Not only that, but nearly all traffic would be brought to a halt, making it nigh impossible to move the drugs without being noticed. Some Witchfinders had suggested simply abandoning the substance. The new boss in Atlas City, Victor, seemed less interested in drawing more attention to themselves, in their somewhat more vulnerable state. But these Witchfinders had a different mindset. The crusade must continue, and these drugs? They were their swords and shields.


Outside the warehouse, the quiet was steadily interrupted by the sound of approaching vehicles, and of music. Lavern Baker’s “Tweedle Dee” melodiously played from a black, 1954 Lancia Aurelia B20GT Outlaw. A reproduction, necessitated by the car’s considerable rarity, but with no expense, or luxury, spared. As the other vehicles stopped, two women stepped out: Nina Elizabeth Galloway, and Hudson Li.


"I'm just saying, a lot of music from that era is clearly still experimenting! It was hugely influential on later artists, but you can't really say sincerely that musicians from the time had quite worked out what made for a good song. I don't think that's an unfair statement!"


"Your brain's been rotted from too much Neo-Vocaloid," Li replied dismissively, rapping her knuckles lightly against the side of the blonde woman's head. "It's time to focus now, dork."


Nina crossed her arms with a pout, her demeanor making it clear just how little thought she paid the Witchfinders inside the building.


The door of the Outlaw opened, allowing a figure to step out and stand quite comfortably next to it, feeling unconcerned by the situation they had walked into.


The figure in the grey suit pulled out a silver lighter and a cigarette, lighting it and taking a few puffs. “Jimminy cricket, jimminy jack, you make my heart go clickety-clack…” Peter Radovan muttered along with the song, grinning ear to ear as he took another puff from his cigarette. “Nina, Miss Li, I’ll take point for this.”


Nina shrugged, leaning against the side of the Outlaw and pulling back the coat of her suit to stuff her hands in her pockets. "You're killin' me here," Li sighed, pulling out a thin cigarette of her own and lighting up. "Big guy's ready to go whenever you're done playin' around."


Inside the warehouse, the Witchfinder in charge of the operation to move the drugs, had gone to the windows to take a quick, cautious peek outside. When he looked out, he saw the figures that had arrived, and watched as the man in grey, grinning like some kind of psycho, pulled something out of his pocket and flashed it at the building. The Witchfinder’s heart sank.


It was SINS.


Everyone else in the warehouse began to take notice of the events going on outside, the sense of anxiety building as everyone remained still. “What are we gonna do? Are we gonna… Have to shoot our way out?” One of the others asked. “Looks like there’s only three of em… Maybe we can take ‘em?” A few started to go for their guns, but the leader lifted a hand to stop them.


“Don’t be stupid, look.” He pointed over in the direction of the vehicles. “They’ve got a drive frame in there. We start shooting, and we all die.” There was a moment of silence in the room, the leader took the time to contemplate what the best option was for getting out of this. If they fought, they died…


“We need to surrender. We use the drugs as leverage, promise them we’ll give them info, drag it out for some kind of plea deal. If we do that, the boss might be able to spring us out. It’s a long shot… But we’ll live to fight another day.”


The others were mostly quiet, though a few did bicker back. “You’re literally suggesting betraying the Witchfinder cause. What makes you think Victor won’t just have us killed to keep us from talking?”


The leader shook his head, hand still raised to calm their anxiety. “We won’t say anything. We surrender, demand lawyers, keep our mouths shut. We’ll demand plea deals, and most likely Victor will figure something out. Worst case, we go to prison for life, but they can break us out. And besides, if we DO have to talk, we can just talk about the drugs, give the SINS folks something to chew on while the boss figures something out. No skin off our backs.”


Quiet came over all those present. There was hesitation among the Witchfinders, but they knew the chances of coming out alive were slim to none in a fight. If they lived though, like the leader here said, they’d do so to fight another day. “I’ll go negotiate with them. You all just sit tight and don’t do anything stupid.” He took a deep breath, sighed, and made his way to the door.


Peter had already made his way to the entrance of the warehouse, taking a few more drags from his cigarette as he stood in front of the door. “Morning in there!” He called out. “Fire Marshal here, gotta do an inspection of your building!” Peter chuckled as more smoke billowed from his mouth. The door opened, ever so slowly, as two empty hands leaned out.


“We’re going to surrender Agent, I’m unarmed and fully willing to cooperate. I’m coming out now so we can negotiate.”


The SINS agent smirked as the door continued to open, the Witchfinder in charge of the warehouse now standing fully in the open doorway, hands up in the air. Peter dropped his cig to the ground and stamped it out. “Now that’s what I like to see, a nice, easy, cooperative solution. I commend you for your bravery!” His grin remained fixed on the Witchfinder.


And then a gunshot rang out.


A hole was torn through the Witchfinder’s head as he fell backwards into the warehouse, blood having painted the doorway with a light red mist, and a light trail of smoke wafted up from the smoking barrel of Peter’s gun. The whole world stood still as Peter looked back to Hudson and Nina, the grin still etched into his face. The agent spoke quietly, loud enough for the two to hear, his voice dripping in some sense of dark, twisted humor.


“He shot first.”


Before anything else could occur, Peter was already over the threshold and inside the warehouse. Gun fire erupted from inside, the sound of pistols, automatic rifles, perhaps even shotguns. Windows shattered, holes were torn through old wood, and bright light flashed repetitiously with the cacophony of firearms. Shouting was heard, and after some of the gunfire died down, the sounds of screams and close quarters, melee fighting could be heard. Sickening, guttural sounds, death cries, screams of pain, choking and drowning sounds.


The sounds had nearly died out entirely, and someone came bolting out of the door Peter had entered through. Another Witchfinder. He’d just made it over the threshold when he stopped abruptly. A hatchet had come crashing down into the back of his skull, ending any attempts he had at running. A hand, accompanied by the sleeve of a grey suit jacket, held tight around the handle of the hatchet, and swiftly pulled the Witchfinder back inside of the now darkened warehouse. The sounds of flesh being destroyed, accompanied by the descending sounds of pain, remained for only about a minute or two. Once that was done, the warehouse was back to utter silence. Nothing moved or made a sound inside for a few moments longer. When sound did begin again, it was footsteps on the wooden floors.


Peter Radovan exited the building once more, making the motion of brushing off some dust from his shoulders. He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket, quickly wiping some blood spatterings off his face. The rest of him seemed untouched however, and in fact entirely uninjured. No bruises, not cuts, no scratches.


Nothing.


Peter returned his pistol to it’s holster, turning his gaze once more to Nina and Hudson, yet another grin on his face. “Well that was a lot of fun! Next time I’ll let you two have a little more action, guess it’s not really fair to hog it all to myself.” He cackled to himself.


“Oh yeah, Hudson; Can you ah, level this place for me? Like to the ground. Knock the whole thing down, big pile of rubble, nothing left standing. You good with that?”


"Wouldn't want you gettin' dust on your suit, right?" Li blew smoke out her nose, flicking the butt of her cigarette onto the street while tapping something into the band on her wrist. It chimed softly, and the trailer of the van which had accompanied the Outlaw began to unfold. "Sure. Give me two minutes."


“In my defense Miss Li, this suit cost more than their lives probably did.” He motioned his head back in the direction of the warehouse. “And besides, this is a chance to see you in action! Think of it like some mecha game with destructible buildings in it! Just… Well, y’know, ignore the bodies and blood. Anyways sounds like you’ve got a plan, so I’ll leave you to it. We’ve got a little bit of time still, made sure there aren’t any ‘eyes’ for us to be worrying about.” As he reapproached the Outlaw, he considered that she might not get what he meant. He sat down on the hood and gazed over to the Drive Frame being deployed from the van, knowing they were gonna leave quite an unexpected (and if all went correctly, unexplained) mess here. Of course, he was quite confident this would stay under wraps.


After all, this mission was sanctioned by the Director of National Intelligence. Peter was fairly sure when Douglas said he’d shut down every security cam, satellite feed, and cellphone in the vicinity, that the man actually had the means to do it. Still, there was the matter of Moore to be concerned with. Would he be able to connect these dots? Would it matter? Probably not the latter part, but still, he wasn’t really looking for more obstacles.


“So Miss Nina,” He said casually to the other agent, whilst Hudson got her armor ready. “How’ve you been liking things with SINS so far? It’s been… How long since you signed up?”


Nina blinked in surprise, then looked up in thought. "Mmmm… about two years I think? Why?"


"Don't ask that, it's a trap," Li's voice crackled through a communicator, nearly drowned out by the screech of grinding metal as a large humanoid machine stood up in the back of the van and stepped off its platform, its heavy footfalls nearly enough to splinter the asphalt.


"It's weird that you're eavesdropping."


"No it's not."


The drive frame extended one hand toward the building, and a cable launched out from its wrist, securing itself to one wall. In a remarkable display of dexterity for such a large machine, it twisted its wrist and wrapped its metal fingers around the cord, giving it an experimental tug to test that it was properly adhered before talking large, heavy footsteps backward down the street away from the vehicles, keeping the building in line-of-sight for its face mounted cameras.


Once Li was satisfied she'd moved far enough away, the drive frame pulled hard on the cord, ripping the wall free of the building and causing the upper floors to collapse as the part of the structure which had born their weight was pulled away, reducing the warehouse to a lopsided ruin. The cable retracted into the drive frame's wrist, then the wheels within its feet screeched to life as it charged forward at top speed, tearing through the wreckage and slamming into the remaining wall, sending chunks scattering several hundred meters away as the last of the building crumbled behind her.


Peter clapped his hands and grinned as the building collapsed, giving a slight flourish and bow in the direction of Li as she triumphantly returned to her fellow agents. “Bravo! Very well done! Who’da thought physics could be as effective as explosives!” He chuckled again as he turned back to Nina, the two of them now waiting on Li to get the armor loaded back up again before leaving. “I dunno what Hudson means about ‘traps’, but mainly I was just curious. It pays to know how your fellow agents are feeling about the job, especially since we do a lot of ‘heavy lifting’ for Uncle Sam.”


“And also, I recall some files saying something about you having ‘previous employment’, so a part of me wondered how SINS stacks up with other employers.”


"It's pretty similar, I guess," Nina answered with a thin smile. The van behind them creaked as the drive frame stepped back onto the platform. Nina pushed off the side of the car and moved to open the door to get in, then paused for a split second. "More honest, maybe?" she added with a smile.


"All packed up here, boss," Li chimed in over the communicator. She appeared a moment later, jogging around the back of the van as its trailer folded back up.


"I guess I like it a tiny bit better. My boss seems friendly." Nina chuckled and climbed into the Outlaw's passenger seat, shutting the door behind her.


Peter gave a brief two finger salute to Hudson in affirmation, before flashing a thumbs up, in recognition of her good work. When he caught what Nina had responded with, he cocked an eyebrow, looking behind him at the collapsed building. “Did she work for a dictator or something?” He muttered curiously to himself. Agent Radovan gave a slight shrug to himself, hopped back into the Outlaw, and drove off, the SINS van following close behind.


Once the cars were a few blocks away, security cameras began to flicker to life again, satellite imaging came through clearly once more, the previously ‘invisible’ little part of Atlas City was invisible no longer.


Across the street from the collapsed warehouse, an abandoned building sat, with currently one unseen occupant within. The man wore a black suit, and had been gazing out to watch the chaos unfold on the other side of the street. He had a cellphone in hand, having just finished reading a text that said ‘Call Victor’. The man, calm and composed, speedily punched in a number and got ready to call. The Witchfinder’s were going to need to make some big changes.


They weren’t the only party with a vested interest in these arrangements.