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Dark Heresy - Agents of the Inquisition
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<blockquote data-quote="Lothred" data-source="post: 4163922" data-attributes="member: 41722"><p><strong>Bringing down the house</strong></p><p></p><p>Mikel and Donne were bored. There was just no other way to describe it. After all, Glout used this restaurant as a cover for his business because it was a little hole-in-the-wall nothing. The only people who came here were low-lifes looking for a lukewarm meal, something to take their minds off of their meaningless lives, or both. Usually both. The front door opened on an infrequent basis, the occasional hiver or three entering and taking a table, spending their hard-earned scrapings for some reheated (and often recycled) synthcaf and the stew of the day (usually some form of reclaimed near-meat). As each patron entered, the two protection experts, as they liked to style themselves, would eye them for obvious weapons or other signs of someone likely to make trouble. They were paid, and paid well by low-hive standards, to keep trouble away, and they wanted to keep their jobs. Neither of them was a stranger to violence, as each one had delivered some fearful beatings in their time. That was the extent of Mikel’s experience, but Donne had frequently made reference to some problems that he had “retired” for a previous employer.</p><p></p><p>The door opened, allowing a brief burst of noise from the passing pedestrians along with a tall man in a battered storm coat. A pump-action shotgun carried over one shoulder drew a raised eyebrow from Mikel, but Donne shook his head. While long guns were uncommon, most patrons of The Rat Pit carried, and this guy didn’t have the look of a troublemaker. He looked around briefly, then took a seat at an unoccupied table, his back to the door. Obviously not a pro, then. Everyone knew you always put you back to a wall, preferably in a corner. Probably he had lucked into the gun, maybe it didn’t even work. Yeah, that was most likely. This guy had just found the gun, probably in a wreck or junk heap, and carried it to look serious, but he was just a low-hive scum poser. As they turned to scan the crowd again, they missed his left hand moving to his ear.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>“Hunter and Circuit in position, entry assured.”</p><p></p><p>Lazerus heard the affirmation through his microbead, and tapped his ear twice in acknowledgement. He spoke lowly, nearly subvocalizing.</p><p></p><p>“Badge in place. Two dozen friendlies, two thugs. Go for Void.”</p><p></p><p>Prior to the mission, each of the team members had been assigned a code name, something to instantly identify them to each other without using names. Tauron, the sniper, was Hunter, while the Tech-Priest Ishmael was Circuit. Lazerus, appropriately, was Badge, the young Guardsman Eli took Gunner, while the assassin Ophelia was known as Shadow. Ave’, the space-born pickpocket with utterly unremarkable features that allowed her to blend into any crowd, was Void.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>The door to the restaurant opened again. A mousy-looking girl entered, right shoulder twitching spasmodically while her left hand scratched her right forearm compulsively. She looked around the room in spastic jerks, a wild look in her eyes. This was trouble. Mikel and Donne looked at each other for a moment, then Mikel rolled his eyes and stood up, heading toward the new arrival.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>“Shadow and Gunner, displaced. Hostiles present, under cover.”</p><p></p><p>Lazerus frowned as the next report came over his microbead. It wasn’t critical that all exits be perfectly covered, but it appeared that at least one part of the team had had their cover blown. From the sounds of things, Eli and Ophelia needed backup. He turned, as though to see the source of commotion that had just entered, and caught Ave’s eye. He motioned quickly to the approaching thug, and then outside, brushing his ear. She twitched, managing to hide a nod as a random muscle movement, then looked up as Mikel drew near.</p><p></p><p>“Can I’s help you, mizz? Youse lost?”</p><p></p><p>The girl jerked back as he reached for her arm, then managed a crooked smile. “I, uh, I, uh, I, uh, need something need something badIneedsomethingbadrightnowIneeditneeditnowrightnow…” Her words came faster and faster the more she talked, before Mikel stopped her talking with a raised hand.</p><p></p><p>“What’s makes youse think youse can get-get somethin’ here, huh?”</p><p></p><p>“I-a I-a heard this is the place for good stuff. Harris here, right? I heard Harris here, has good-good-good-g-g-g-good stuff.”</p><p></p><p>Mikel stepped close, right up to her, and whispered. “I don’t know what youse hear, but ain’t no Harris here. Now why’s don’ we step outside, like?”</p><p></p><p>He firmly grabbed the girl’s arm and steered her out the door. As he did so, Lazerus turned back away from the door, taking the opportunity to key his microbead. </p><p></p><p>“Void en route to Shadow and Gunner, one hostile in tow. Delay until go-word.”</p><p></p><p>He waited half a minute, then stood up and headed for the door leading to the kitchen.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>“Youse slags keep-a keep-a walkin’. Youse hears? Elsein youse bein’ dead-dead.”</p><p></p><p>It was the third time the notional corner-girl had repeated the phrase, and Eli was fast becoming tired of it. Perhaps she had some near-parrot in her genes somewhere he thought, smothering a chuckle. More likely she had one up her skirt. He and Ophelia had backed down the alley about a dozen meters or so from the door they were meant to cover, well within firing range, but out of position to physically intercept anyone who came out and headed for the streets. Ophelia still held her laspistol in her left hand, kept behind her body. Apparently, the girl, or more likely the guy at the corner, finally noticed her hidden hand, and she called out.</p><p></p><p>“Hey, slag, whatchoos got-a got-a ‘hind there, huhs? Shows us yousa hands! Bot’ of ‘em!. Now!”</p><p></p><p>Ophelia looked over her shoulder at Eli, who shrugged, then turned back to face the girl, bringing her left hand up and pointing the laspistol at the surprised girl.</p><p></p><p>“Let’s not get crazy, here, okay? We’re here peacefully. Can’t we all just get along?”</p><p></p><p>Eli gaped at the assassin, openmouthed. “And you were complaining about Steve?”</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>Mikel walked the girl outside, giving her a gentle shove as they reached the dingy sidewalk.</p><p></p><p>“Go on, now, get. And don’ come back.”</p><p></p><p>As he turned to walk back inside, the girl grabbed his arm and began speaking quickly. Mikel quickly lost track of the thread of the conversation, swept along blindly in her stream of blather.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>Donne jumped up as the man with the shotgun walked toward the opening separating the dining area from the kitchens. </p><p></p><p>“Hey, there, fella, where’s youse goin’? Ain’t nutttin’ back there for youse.”</p><p></p><p>The man didn’t turn as he replied.</p><p></p><p>“Just gotta take a piss, don’t mind me.”</p><p></p><p>Donne pulled his stub automatic, the man stopping and slowly raising his hands at the sound of the hammer being cocked. The man began turning slowly, then a noise from the dining area caused Donne’s head to turn. Before he could look back, his ears registered the unmistakable noise of a shotgun’s action working. As his eyes returned to the other man, they were drawn inexorably to the gaping barrel of the shotgun held just under his nose, angled upward. Donne prided himself on being a tough man, but his left pant leg became warm and wet as he finally wrenched his gaze from the barrel to the man’s suddenly hard grey eyes.</p><p></p><p>“Drop the pistol, scum.” Donne quickly complied. “Now, down on the floor, face down, hands behind your head. I’ve got some questions for you, sonny. First, what’s your name?”</p><p></p><p>Right cheek pressed firmly to the floor, the thug stammered out his reply.</p><p></p><p>“D-d-d-d- Donne!”</p><p></p><p>“All right, Donne, where’s Harris?”</p><p></p><p>“Right behind you!” came a voice from that direction, along with the sound of guns cocking. Lazerus rose slowly, shotgun held in his left hand away from his body. As he stepped off of Donne and turned to face the doorway, the Arbitrator saw Harris Glout, instantly recognizable from the holo they had examined during the briefing, a woman in a business suit, and four more bodyguards. The one in the doorway held a crudely sawed-off double-barreled shotgun, friend to criminals everywhere, while the others held stub autos, as did Harris himself.</p><p></p><p>“Harris, nice place you’ve got here. I might call a contractor, though.”</p><p></p><p>Glout smirked. “Oh yeah, why’s that.”</p><p></p><p>Lazerus smiled back. “Can’t you tell? The walls are falling.”</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>“The walls are falling.”</p><p></p><p>Ishmael and Tauron looked at each other. Then the Tech Priest kicked open the door, iron staff held at the ready, as Tauron sighted through his long-las, taking in the scene within.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>“The walls are falling.”</p><p></p><p>The mousy girl’s chatter took on another note, and some words finally began to pierce the haze that had surrounded Mikel since she began talking.</p><p></p><p>“…said, isn’t that a cop over there?”</p><p></p><p>As Mikel turned to look in the direction that she was pointing, something registered in the back of his mind. The girl was pointing. Steadily. The junkie was pointing. The twitchy junkie was pointing. Her hand was steady. Her hand wasn’t shaking.</p><p></p><p><em>Her hand wasn’t shaking!</em></p><p></p><p>Mikel spun back to face her, grabbing for the stub auto in his belt.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>“The walls are falling.”</p><p></p><p>Ophelia dropped to one knee, sighting on the corner-girl, as Eli drew his hand from inside his overcloak, holding an object the size of a medium-sized can. The young Guardsman brought his hands together, assuming a throwing stance. </p><p></p><p>“Hey, guys. CATCH!”</p><p></p><p>The object sailed over the corner-girl’s head, landing directly in the middle of the triangle formed by her and her two comrades. All three stared at it, trying to make sense of the round metal ball with a grip or handle of some kind coming out of the top. They were still staring when the grenade exploded. The man, stationed on the right side of the alley, screamed as his left arm was shredded, arterial blood painting the opposite alley wall like some demented impressionist. The second corner girl passed out briefly and collapsed as the grenade buried red-hot metal fragments deep in her right leg, shattering bone and lacerating flesh. The point girl nearly escaped unscathed. Indeed, at first glance, the grenade seemed to have no effect other than to blow her half a dozen meters toward the assassin and Guardsman, landing on her back limply. There was no blood on her front, but a small hole directly in the center of her forehead belied her peaceful appearance. A spreading pool of crimson framed her head like a gory halo.</p><p></p><p>Eli dropped the pin and unslung his lasrifle, grinning like a fool. </p><p></p><p>“I’ve got to get more of those.”</p><p></p><p>Ophelia’s shot silenced the man’s screams.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>The explosion startled and distracted everyone inside The Rat Pit, causing them to flinch and involuntarily look toward the sound. Except Lazerus. As the thug in the doorway turned his head, the Arbitrator dropped into a crouch, bringing his own shotgun into line with the unsuspecting man’s center of mass. The thundergun spoke twice, and the man collapsed as all of the muscle supporting his torso vaporized, spraying those behind him with a fine red mist.</p><p></p><p>Lazerus stood back up as he racked the slide, voice nearly as loud as his weapon. </p><p></p><p>“ADEPTUS ARBITES! PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS! NOW YOU WORTHLESS SCUM!” </p><p></p><p>Harris darted for the door as his muscle moved to intersect the Arbitrator. The door on the opposite side of the restaurant banged open at that time, and a long-las’ snap-CRACK sounded as Tauron put a las round through one of the thug’s throat. Donne somehow dredged up the intestinal fortitude to try and redeem himself, and scooped up his pistol from where he had dropped it. Firing wildly from his back, he had the satisfaction of seeing one round crease the side of the Arbitrator, who had his back turned to him. Grunting with the sudden pain, the lawman glanced back at Donne, the up at something behind the bouncer, grinning. Lazerus turned back to the remaining thug interposed between himself and Harris.</p><p></p><p>Donne was confused. He had just shot this guy in the back and fully expected the guy to turn on him with his big gauge, but the guy was ignoring him. Why would he do that, unless… At that moment, an iron staff stabbed down, pinning his thigh to the wooden floor, briefly, before being wrenched back out, the pain causing Donne to lose his grip on the stub auto. Ishmael pulled his staff back, aiming another swing at the downed thug’s head.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>Mikel cursed himself as he spun to face the mousy girl. How could he have been so stupid? Falling for such a basic ploy! He would show her. He’d show everyone that he was not someone to…</p><p></p><p>His thought process was cut off by the foot-long knife blade entering his stomach. His hand clawed the pistol from his belt, his finger jerking and firing a round into the sidewalk as the girl pulled the knife out and rammed it home again, piercing his liver. As Mikel slipped to the ground, blood pouring from his stomach, the girl reached down and picked up his pistol.</p><p></p><p>“Huh, I don’t have one of these. Well, at least I didn’t.”</p><p></p><p>She darted away to the left, following a blur that was the last thing Mikel saw.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>Harris and the woman, preceded by one of his two remaining bodyguards, burst out of the door into the alley. The bodyguard slipped on a spreading pool of liquid. As he stood back up, he brought his hand up to his face. It was red and sticky, and still warm. His glance quickly took in the situation, and he turned to face the two figures further down the alley. He screamed at Harris and the woman to head for the streets, to get away, as he fired at the woman with the laspistol, missing as his footing remained unsure.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>Lazerus advanced on the remaining bodyguard, who wavered between loyalty to his employer and loyalty to his life. Harris and some woman were getting away! He screamed to Tauron.</p><p></p><p>“Hunter, the other side! Harris is leaving!”</p><p></p><p>The bodyguard’s resolve hardened, but too late as the advancing Arbitrator splattered the wall with more human salsa as he headed toward the door, picking his way carefully through the bodies and gore.</p><p></p><p>Tauron, seeing that the restaurant seemed secure, kicked in his high gear. Raised on a world where only the fastest ate and avoided being eaten, the former Guardsman could sprint at need. He tore up the alley, around the front of the restaurant, where Ave’ was looting a dying man, past a gasping, crawling, bloody wreck of a corner-girl, and down the other alley, pulling up just in time to put the barrel of his long-las into Harris Glout’s eye socket.</p><p></p><p>“Going somewhere?”</p><p></p><p>The woman accompanying Glout kept running, looking over at her business associate and his captor, not seeing the girl coming around the corner at high speed, blood already dripping off her blade. Ave’ sprung into the air, gripping the knife with both hands above her head and plunging it down into and through the woman’s neck as she descended. Ave’ did not land standing upright, instead allowing her momentum and weight to act on the lever that her knife had become, the woman’s head coming off with a sickening <em>schluuuurp-POP</em>. The head, still bearing a look of surprise, described a perfect arc as it flew backwards, beyond Ophelia and Eli, who had just cut down the bodyguard in a hail of las fire. Lazerus stormed out of the door, putting his shotgun at the base of Glout’s skull, as Ave’ and Ophelia moved up to completely surround the criminal. Eli headed inside the restaurant at Lazerus’ head-jerk, helping Ishmael subdue the cowed and concussed Donne.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>“Where’s your office, Harris? I don’t believe you were working out of the kitchen, so where is it?”</p><p></p><p>Glout just glared at the Arbitrator. He, Donne, and the girl with the shredded leg were tied up, hands behind their backs, and set along the wall down the western alley. </p><p></p><p>“Okay, I guess we’ll just have to go find it ourselves.”</p><p></p><p>Ophelia and Ishmael entered the kitchen as the other four covered their prisoners, keeping an eye out for anyone expressing too much interest in the proceedings. Eventually, the assassin returned.</p><p></p><p>“We found it. An office and small laboratorium. Ishmael is checking the machinery for stolen tech. And for spare parts.”</p><p></p><p>Just then, the crowd in the street became agitated, as Miocanthus and his Inquisitorial guard muscled their way through. The acolyte smiled, seeing Glout’s sour expression. "Well done, people. We took down his main manufactorum, and it looks like you caught the man himself. Well done. Let’s get this scum back to the blockhouse and turned over to the proper authorities. I’ll leave a guard force here to secure the scene. Let’s go.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lothred, post: 4163922, member: 41722"] [b]Bringing down the house[/b] Mikel and Donne were bored. There was just no other way to describe it. After all, Glout used this restaurant as a cover for his business because it was a little hole-in-the-wall nothing. The only people who came here were low-lifes looking for a lukewarm meal, something to take their minds off of their meaningless lives, or both. Usually both. The front door opened on an infrequent basis, the occasional hiver or three entering and taking a table, spending their hard-earned scrapings for some reheated (and often recycled) synthcaf and the stew of the day (usually some form of reclaimed near-meat). As each patron entered, the two protection experts, as they liked to style themselves, would eye them for obvious weapons or other signs of someone likely to make trouble. They were paid, and paid well by low-hive standards, to keep trouble away, and they wanted to keep their jobs. Neither of them was a stranger to violence, as each one had delivered some fearful beatings in their time. That was the extent of Mikel’s experience, but Donne had frequently made reference to some problems that he had “retired” for a previous employer. The door opened, allowing a brief burst of noise from the passing pedestrians along with a tall man in a battered storm coat. A pump-action shotgun carried over one shoulder drew a raised eyebrow from Mikel, but Donne shook his head. While long guns were uncommon, most patrons of The Rat Pit carried, and this guy didn’t have the look of a troublemaker. He looked around briefly, then took a seat at an unoccupied table, his back to the door. Obviously not a pro, then. Everyone knew you always put you back to a wall, preferably in a corner. Probably he had lucked into the gun, maybe it didn’t even work. Yeah, that was most likely. This guy had just found the gun, probably in a wreck or junk heap, and carried it to look serious, but he was just a low-hive scum poser. As they turned to scan the crowd again, they missed his left hand moving to his ear. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * “Hunter and Circuit in position, entry assured.” Lazerus heard the affirmation through his microbead, and tapped his ear twice in acknowledgement. He spoke lowly, nearly subvocalizing. “Badge in place. Two dozen friendlies, two thugs. Go for Void.” Prior to the mission, each of the team members had been assigned a code name, something to instantly identify them to each other without using names. Tauron, the sniper, was Hunter, while the Tech-Priest Ishmael was Circuit. Lazerus, appropriately, was Badge, the young Guardsman Eli took Gunner, while the assassin Ophelia was known as Shadow. Ave’, the space-born pickpocket with utterly unremarkable features that allowed her to blend into any crowd, was Void. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The door to the restaurant opened again. A mousy-looking girl entered, right shoulder twitching spasmodically while her left hand scratched her right forearm compulsively. She looked around the room in spastic jerks, a wild look in her eyes. This was trouble. Mikel and Donne looked at each other for a moment, then Mikel rolled his eyes and stood up, heading toward the new arrival. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * “Shadow and Gunner, displaced. Hostiles present, under cover.” Lazerus frowned as the next report came over his microbead. It wasn’t critical that all exits be perfectly covered, but it appeared that at least one part of the team had had their cover blown. From the sounds of things, Eli and Ophelia needed backup. He turned, as though to see the source of commotion that had just entered, and caught Ave’s eye. He motioned quickly to the approaching thug, and then outside, brushing his ear. She twitched, managing to hide a nod as a random muscle movement, then looked up as Mikel drew near. “Can I’s help you, mizz? Youse lost?” The girl jerked back as he reached for her arm, then managed a crooked smile. “I, uh, I, uh, I, uh, need something need something badIneedsomethingbadrightnowIneeditneeditnowrightnow…” Her words came faster and faster the more she talked, before Mikel stopped her talking with a raised hand. “What’s makes youse think youse can get-get somethin’ here, huh?” “I-a I-a heard this is the place for good stuff. Harris here, right? I heard Harris here, has good-good-good-g-g-g-good stuff.” Mikel stepped close, right up to her, and whispered. “I don’t know what youse hear, but ain’t no Harris here. Now why’s don’ we step outside, like?” He firmly grabbed the girl’s arm and steered her out the door. As he did so, Lazerus turned back away from the door, taking the opportunity to key his microbead. “Void en route to Shadow and Gunner, one hostile in tow. Delay until go-word.” He waited half a minute, then stood up and headed for the door leading to the kitchen. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * “Youse slags keep-a keep-a walkin’. Youse hears? Elsein youse bein’ dead-dead.” It was the third time the notional corner-girl had repeated the phrase, and Eli was fast becoming tired of it. Perhaps she had some near-parrot in her genes somewhere he thought, smothering a chuckle. More likely she had one up her skirt. He and Ophelia had backed down the alley about a dozen meters or so from the door they were meant to cover, well within firing range, but out of position to physically intercept anyone who came out and headed for the streets. Ophelia still held her laspistol in her left hand, kept behind her body. Apparently, the girl, or more likely the guy at the corner, finally noticed her hidden hand, and she called out. “Hey, slag, whatchoos got-a got-a ‘hind there, huhs? Shows us yousa hands! Bot’ of ‘em!. Now!” Ophelia looked over her shoulder at Eli, who shrugged, then turned back to face the girl, bringing her left hand up and pointing the laspistol at the surprised girl. “Let’s not get crazy, here, okay? We’re here peacefully. Can’t we all just get along?” Eli gaped at the assassin, openmouthed. “And you were complaining about Steve?” * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Mikel walked the girl outside, giving her a gentle shove as they reached the dingy sidewalk. “Go on, now, get. And don’ come back.” As he turned to walk back inside, the girl grabbed his arm and began speaking quickly. Mikel quickly lost track of the thread of the conversation, swept along blindly in her stream of blather. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Donne jumped up as the man with the shotgun walked toward the opening separating the dining area from the kitchens. “Hey, there, fella, where’s youse goin’? Ain’t nutttin’ back there for youse.” The man didn’t turn as he replied. “Just gotta take a piss, don’t mind me.” Donne pulled his stub automatic, the man stopping and slowly raising his hands at the sound of the hammer being cocked. The man began turning slowly, then a noise from the dining area caused Donne’s head to turn. Before he could look back, his ears registered the unmistakable noise of a shotgun’s action working. As his eyes returned to the other man, they were drawn inexorably to the gaping barrel of the shotgun held just under his nose, angled upward. Donne prided himself on being a tough man, but his left pant leg became warm and wet as he finally wrenched his gaze from the barrel to the man’s suddenly hard grey eyes. “Drop the pistol, scum.” Donne quickly complied. “Now, down on the floor, face down, hands behind your head. I’ve got some questions for you, sonny. First, what’s your name?” Right cheek pressed firmly to the floor, the thug stammered out his reply. “D-d-d-d- Donne!” “All right, Donne, where’s Harris?” “Right behind you!” came a voice from that direction, along with the sound of guns cocking. Lazerus rose slowly, shotgun held in his left hand away from his body. As he stepped off of Donne and turned to face the doorway, the Arbitrator saw Harris Glout, instantly recognizable from the holo they had examined during the briefing, a woman in a business suit, and four more bodyguards. The one in the doorway held a crudely sawed-off double-barreled shotgun, friend to criminals everywhere, while the others held stub autos, as did Harris himself. “Harris, nice place you’ve got here. I might call a contractor, though.” Glout smirked. “Oh yeah, why’s that.” Lazerus smiled back. “Can’t you tell? The walls are falling.” * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * “The walls are falling.” Ishmael and Tauron looked at each other. Then the Tech Priest kicked open the door, iron staff held at the ready, as Tauron sighted through his long-las, taking in the scene within. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * “The walls are falling.” The mousy girl’s chatter took on another note, and some words finally began to pierce the haze that had surrounded Mikel since she began talking. “…said, isn’t that a cop over there?” As Mikel turned to look in the direction that she was pointing, something registered in the back of his mind. The girl was pointing. Steadily. The junkie was pointing. The twitchy junkie was pointing. Her hand was steady. Her hand wasn’t shaking. [I]Her hand wasn’t shaking![/I] Mikel spun back to face her, grabbing for the stub auto in his belt. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * “The walls are falling.” Ophelia dropped to one knee, sighting on the corner-girl, as Eli drew his hand from inside his overcloak, holding an object the size of a medium-sized can. The young Guardsman brought his hands together, assuming a throwing stance. “Hey, guys. CATCH!” The object sailed over the corner-girl’s head, landing directly in the middle of the triangle formed by her and her two comrades. All three stared at it, trying to make sense of the round metal ball with a grip or handle of some kind coming out of the top. They were still staring when the grenade exploded. The man, stationed on the right side of the alley, screamed as his left arm was shredded, arterial blood painting the opposite alley wall like some demented impressionist. The second corner girl passed out briefly and collapsed as the grenade buried red-hot metal fragments deep in her right leg, shattering bone and lacerating flesh. The point girl nearly escaped unscathed. Indeed, at first glance, the grenade seemed to have no effect other than to blow her half a dozen meters toward the assassin and Guardsman, landing on her back limply. There was no blood on her front, but a small hole directly in the center of her forehead belied her peaceful appearance. A spreading pool of crimson framed her head like a gory halo. Eli dropped the pin and unslung his lasrifle, grinning like a fool. “I’ve got to get more of those.” Ophelia’s shot silenced the man’s screams. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The explosion startled and distracted everyone inside The Rat Pit, causing them to flinch and involuntarily look toward the sound. Except Lazerus. As the thug in the doorway turned his head, the Arbitrator dropped into a crouch, bringing his own shotgun into line with the unsuspecting man’s center of mass. The thundergun spoke twice, and the man collapsed as all of the muscle supporting his torso vaporized, spraying those behind him with a fine red mist. Lazerus stood back up as he racked the slide, voice nearly as loud as his weapon. “ADEPTUS ARBITES! PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS! NOW YOU WORTHLESS SCUM!” Harris darted for the door as his muscle moved to intersect the Arbitrator. The door on the opposite side of the restaurant banged open at that time, and a long-las’ snap-CRACK sounded as Tauron put a las round through one of the thug’s throat. Donne somehow dredged up the intestinal fortitude to try and redeem himself, and scooped up his pistol from where he had dropped it. Firing wildly from his back, he had the satisfaction of seeing one round crease the side of the Arbitrator, who had his back turned to him. Grunting with the sudden pain, the lawman glanced back at Donne, the up at something behind the bouncer, grinning. Lazerus turned back to the remaining thug interposed between himself and Harris. Donne was confused. He had just shot this guy in the back and fully expected the guy to turn on him with his big gauge, but the guy was ignoring him. Why would he do that, unless… At that moment, an iron staff stabbed down, pinning his thigh to the wooden floor, briefly, before being wrenched back out, the pain causing Donne to lose his grip on the stub auto. Ishmael pulled his staff back, aiming another swing at the downed thug’s head. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Mikel cursed himself as he spun to face the mousy girl. How could he have been so stupid? Falling for such a basic ploy! He would show her. He’d show everyone that he was not someone to… His thought process was cut off by the foot-long knife blade entering his stomach. His hand clawed the pistol from his belt, his finger jerking and firing a round into the sidewalk as the girl pulled the knife out and rammed it home again, piercing his liver. As Mikel slipped to the ground, blood pouring from his stomach, the girl reached down and picked up his pistol. “Huh, I don’t have one of these. Well, at least I didn’t.” She darted away to the left, following a blur that was the last thing Mikel saw. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Harris and the woman, preceded by one of his two remaining bodyguards, burst out of the door into the alley. The bodyguard slipped on a spreading pool of liquid. As he stood back up, he brought his hand up to his face. It was red and sticky, and still warm. His glance quickly took in the situation, and he turned to face the two figures further down the alley. He screamed at Harris and the woman to head for the streets, to get away, as he fired at the woman with the laspistol, missing as his footing remained unsure. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Lazerus advanced on the remaining bodyguard, who wavered between loyalty to his employer and loyalty to his life. Harris and some woman were getting away! He screamed to Tauron. “Hunter, the other side! Harris is leaving!” The bodyguard’s resolve hardened, but too late as the advancing Arbitrator splattered the wall with more human salsa as he headed toward the door, picking his way carefully through the bodies and gore. Tauron, seeing that the restaurant seemed secure, kicked in his high gear. Raised on a world where only the fastest ate and avoided being eaten, the former Guardsman could sprint at need. He tore up the alley, around the front of the restaurant, where Ave’ was looting a dying man, past a gasping, crawling, bloody wreck of a corner-girl, and down the other alley, pulling up just in time to put the barrel of his long-las into Harris Glout’s eye socket. “Going somewhere?” The woman accompanying Glout kept running, looking over at her business associate and his captor, not seeing the girl coming around the corner at high speed, blood already dripping off her blade. Ave’ sprung into the air, gripping the knife with both hands above her head and plunging it down into and through the woman’s neck as she descended. Ave’ did not land standing upright, instead allowing her momentum and weight to act on the lever that her knife had become, the woman’s head coming off with a sickening [I]schluuuurp-POP[/I]. The head, still bearing a look of surprise, described a perfect arc as it flew backwards, beyond Ophelia and Eli, who had just cut down the bodyguard in a hail of las fire. Lazerus stormed out of the door, putting his shotgun at the base of Glout’s skull, as Ave’ and Ophelia moved up to completely surround the criminal. Eli headed inside the restaurant at Lazerus’ head-jerk, helping Ishmael subdue the cowed and concussed Donne. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * “Where’s your office, Harris? I don’t believe you were working out of the kitchen, so where is it?” Glout just glared at the Arbitrator. He, Donne, and the girl with the shredded leg were tied up, hands behind their backs, and set along the wall down the western alley. “Okay, I guess we’ll just have to go find it ourselves.” Ophelia and Ishmael entered the kitchen as the other four covered their prisoners, keeping an eye out for anyone expressing too much interest in the proceedings. Eventually, the assassin returned. “We found it. An office and small laboratorium. Ishmael is checking the machinery for stolen tech. And for spare parts.” Just then, the crowd in the street became agitated, as Miocanthus and his Inquisitorial guard muscled their way through. The acolyte smiled, seeing Glout’s sour expression. "Well done, people. We took down his main manufactorum, and it looks like you caught the man himself. Well done. Let’s get this scum back to the blockhouse and turned over to the proper authorities. I’ll leave a guard force here to secure the scene. Let’s go.” [/QUOTE]
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