Assassination (Kale, 'Lana)

When Kale was off-duty, life stayed pretty simple. He had a few basic routines. There was the gym time at the Guard's facility early in the morning, before the dawn, and then a large breakfast at a little hole-in-the-wall of a diner that happened to be along the route from the Guard HQ to his modest home. It was one of those faux-1950's places that had somehow survived all the way through the war, despite the fact that the last person who had been alive in the fifties had probably died at least a century ago. They even still played Elvis...

Now, Kale wasn't a young man, but he still thought that was a little strange.

Despite all that, and the fact that most of the seats had colored duct tape patching a hole or six, the diner happened to make the best eggs in the entire damn city, with crispy hash browns, bacon at just the right level of crispy without crumbling to powder when you bit it... and the pancakes were heaven on earth. Like many who had been biologically modified for combat, Kale's metabolism meant that he could (and would) pack away considerable amounts of food, particularly after physical exertion. Which meant that his usual breakfast was six eggs, a stack of four plate-sized pancakes, four strips of bacon, hash browns, and around four cups of coffee.

The wait staff had quit looking at him funny fairly soon after he'd started showing up, at least. That was another reason he liked eating there. They knew to leave him more or less to himself. The Colonel sat, poring over some papers from a file he'd brought with him and wolfing down the huge breakfast. Then, more or less on schedule, he packed his things back up and walked outside, climbing into the vintage Jeep he favored and making his way home. He parked in the driveway, leaving his vehicle out of the garage for the moment, and started for the door. The home was generally unassuming... simple, well-kept, with a few perennial plants but nothing fancy. It was as secluded as one got within fifteen minutes of town, enough trees to shield it from most prying eyes, painted white and with dark gray trim.

It didn't look like the sort of house where the Guard's head of covert operations lived. But then, if it had, he wouldn't be a very good head of covert operations, would he?

In no way could Lana accuse her life of being simple. In fact it was everything but. However she could also never accuse her life of being full of any dull moments. There was always something that required her attention; a new job, someone needing her help or Flynn surprising her with a new partner…who also happened to be a werewolf; the sneaky bastard. Now he had given her something else to do.

A new contract on one of the Terran Guard, Kale MacAllen; the same son of a bitch who had put a bullet in her during the android fiasco. Lana had sat in her quarters at Umbra, seething with a renewed anger while reading the dossier that the corporation had compiled for her. Out of instinct she reached for her side where the bullet had been lodged and rubbed the area protectively. It was poetic justice that had allowed this job to fall into her lap.



Many hours later…

In front of her sat an untouched cup of coffee and a newspaper she was only pretending to read. Her arms crossed upon the surface of the Formica tabletop while the cracked vinyl squealed beneath her shifting weight. Briefly her green eyes flitted up from the black and white pages in front of her to eye the man across the room, Kale MacAllen.

He was tucking into his plate with gusto, attention diverted to a file that lay open on the table beside his plate. Goddess but she wished he would leave already. Lana was ready to get this pleasure trip started. When the waitress returned to her table for the umpteenth time, smacking on some fruity bubble gum and looking down her nose at the redhead like she had somewhere else better to be, Lana turned a stony gaze up at the woman.

Waitress: So ya gonna eat or not? I got other customers to serve. Without counting her first transformation, which had resulted in the pubescent Lana tearing to shreds another child at the facility in Chernobyl, the redhead had never once thought of harming another person. However there was always an exception to exception to every rule. She was mentally picturing the joy that she would receive by ripping this woman in half when something from the corner of her eye caught her attention.

He was leaving! Finally there would be something to do other than watch him stuff his face with fattening foods. Sliding out of her booth, she pulled a folded 20 out of her pocket and tossed it on the table. Keep the change, she growled as she made eye contact with the waitress, then stepping around her began to follow Kale into the street. The sun was just beginning to rise above the skyscrapers of Librium City, casting long shadows and burning off the fog that had settled during the night.

She piddled beside the Ducati Monster she drove; making it look as if she were engrossed in something important about the bike. It wasn’t until Kale drove off that Lana finally slipped the helmet on, swung one leg over the seat and kicked started the black sports bike to life. The drive to his home was relatively smooth and she chose an alternate route, which would ensure that he not only arrived ahead of her but would not suspect that she was pursuing him. Lana had previously done recon on the Guard’s abode and, when she had found that he lived in seclusion from the rest of civilization, well it was fate.

She parked just off the street, in the far corner of the lot; her bike hidden by a wild rhododendron while she picked her way towards the house. A modest, ranch style home that was unassuming and quaint. One would suspect a small family to occupy the residence, had it not been for the forest that blocked the home from view. The driveway was damn near invisible; one had to be keeping a sharp eye out or else they’d miss it. When the house was finally in view through the trees surrounding it, Lana stopped and kneeled behind one.

Raising the strap of her bag over her head and dropping it to the ground, she quickly unzipped it and reached inside for her Benelli rifle. With the rifle loaded and ready, she then armed herself with the two Colts; holstering the two handguns at her thighs. When all preparations had been complete, Lana rose from her crouch and moved a few yards closer to the house, thankful for the sun at her back that was well hidden by all the trees. She chose a tall oak tree as her cover; one of the thick branches forking off the trunk at her waist so that she could bend across it for support.

Lining up her shot, she sighted through the high-powered scope while aiming the rifle through one of the front windows. Waiting for a favorable wind and for her target, with her finger caressing the trigger, Lana sat motionless for what felt like hours when finally her shot would come and Kale would pass by the window. Without hesitation she squeezed the trigger, firing off before he had moved from her sight. Before the bullet struck glass she was already moving, leaving the shelter of cover and dashing towards the garage that stood open. Having memorized the blueprints to the house would help her in the long run.

The door on the far side of the garage was how she gained entry into Kale’s home. Easing the door open just enough for her body to slip through and closing it just as quietly. Now, she would find out whether or not her aim had been true or if some real fun was about to begin.

Kale dropped the mail on the kitchen table and lifted a few of the letters, sorting through. Bill, bill... Guard paycheck, that was something at least. Bill, bill... cable company wanted him to buy telephone service even though he lived alone and had a cell phone, because that would be useful to his everyday life. Best Buy and another television sale...

Junk, junk, bill, junk.

He pushed himself up, dumping most of the stack in the trash, and walked through the living room, pulling his leather coat off and dumping it on the armchair. He moved back through, intending to move into the bathroom... when the shot came through the living room window. The impact of the sniper round transferred enough energy to shatter most of the glass, but like most glass these days it was safety glass, and the polymer pane at the center held it together. Instead, cracks moved out in a dense spiderweb from the point of impact, rendering the window almost opaque... there was no way to easily see through the previously clear surface anymore.

There was no sound, however... no sign of movement.

When she entered, however... there was a different story. There was a bit of blood on the wall, but far too little to have been from a killing shot, and no sign of a body.

At least, until a thunderous report sounded, as Kale leveled his massive, matte-black revolver and opened fire. The slug thrower was huge, heavy, and old fashioned... and enough to put holes the size of a basketball in anything that lived. It was too heavy for most humans to use effectively - but Kale wasn't most humans. He was fine, but for a graze wound that had apparently nicked his left shoulder, staining his white shirt with blood, but the man's eyes were clear and hard - he was clearly far from badly hurt.

Easing the garage door shut in her wake, Lana raised the rifle up so that the barrel was level with her cheek. She kept her trigger finger poised around the guard, waiting for something to happen, though what that something was, the werewolf was not yet sure. An initial scan of the room revealed no blood and no body save for the faint coppery smell of it lingering in the air.

Damn, she eased further into the room, a frown pulling down her brow as she searched in vain for the body of her target. She should have guessed that he would have fortified his home; a sign that he was both smart and paranoid. Lucky for Kale, his paranoia had saved his life...for now. While she stood studying the window and the many webbing cracks that spread outward from where the bullet had struck, her target was presently emerging from the shadows behind her.

Her keen hearing alerted Lana to the movements behind her and like him she managed to duck in time; avoiding the fatal path of a bullet, the second of which would strike the window and cause further damage. Meanwhile, Lana had found cover on the opposite side of Kale's sofa, but not before firing another round from her rifle.

This time she had not been aiming for him but just in his general direction as she had been turning while crouching low to avoid being shot and then lunging forward; diving behind the couch, out of sight. By the sound of his steps, Lana could pinpoint his position in the room and so she was easing her way out from behind the couch only to pop back up further away from him. Remember me? The redhead eyed Kale from across the room; comparing the man in front of her to the memory of the photo in his dossier.

He reminded her of Clint Eastwood in a way; with the narrow, scowling expression and the graying hair upon his head. He still inspired a bit of rage within her though as she remembered him aiming a gun at her and pulling the trigger, then the searing pain of a bullet as it buried in her side.

Kale kept up the fire until she dove for cover, though in an uncharacteristic lack of efficiency, not one of the heavy-bore shots landed home. The graze had shaken him up more than he thought, and the tremor the adrenaline rush had induced was throwing him off a little too much to keep up with someone as quick as she was. When she opened fire he squeezed off the last of the revolver's six shots, then moved behind the wall and out of her range. The walls concealed heavy armor plating in specific areas. If she managed to find one of them it would be to her advantage, but not all the walls had been plated. Kale didn't want to cede the advantage to his enemy as well.

Calmly and quietly he moved out of sight along the walls, knowing full well that he couldn't quite conceal his steps at such close range, in the relative silence of the home. Particularly not against this opponent. She would hear the clatter of brass casings against the floor as he dumped the empties from his revolver and reloaded, snapping the drum back in. The reload was quick - she wasn't going to have time to take advantage of that this time. Her question brought a brief snort of breath, before he growled a reply.

"Svetlana Kozlovski, mercenary, suspected under long-term contract with Umbra. Known werewolf. I'm going to go with... five-seven, hundred and forty five pounds. Combat veteran, considered dangerous in close combat... estimation of skill at long range will need to be re-evaluated, though." His tone was dry and almost entirely passionless - he might as well have been sitting at a desk across from her, reading from a file. There was no tone of sarcasm, just a simple matter-of-factness to the way he spoke - even when he (probably deliberately) overestimated her weight.

Most people thought Kale didn't have a sense of humor, and they were wrong... it was just hard to tell when he was using it.

"I'm also pretty sure I put a bullet in you. Most people would take the hint after that." He turned then, stepping slightly to the side, leveling his pistol at one of the spaces he knew had no armor at all, aimed straight for where she was. She wasn't the only one who could track by sound, and he'd been working the same angle on her - so the three shots that shredded the drywall and lanced for hre direction were, if not perfectly, at least roughly aimed. He moved away from the spot in the same instant, slapping the control on his stereo next, which immediately began blaring 'Highway to Hell' at a volume that would render polite conversation more or less impossible. From there he moved, loading shells again, and waiting for his next opportunity.

Nice to know you’ve done your homework. The demographics that he rattled off, while mostly true (with some outlandish lies – her weight being the lie) were all things that she had heard before from others who had the same access to a research team or the knowhow of doing it themselves. She chuckled while trading the rifle for the two Colt handguns, checking that each was fully loaded as she rearmed herself. Trust me, if the glass hadn’t been tempered, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.

Her long range wasn’t in question; it was his need to be surrounded by shields. Was his life so threatened at all times that he needed to reinforce his home with these extreme safety measures? It was not her job to ask questions or to judge. It was her job to see that Mr. Kale MacAllen didn’t live to see tomorrow’s sunrise. While they had been conversing, Lana had moved to stand against the wall that abutted the one Kale was hiding behind. Da, that was me you shot. Her tone would hint at the thinly veiled rage that boiled behind that statement.

However she had very little time after that to contemplate him or his dry humor. Lana had to duck and twist her body in quick succession to avoid being shot again three more times. When she would have returned fire, the sudden blast of a stereo rendered her momentarily stunned. Son of a bitch was clever, but not enough for while he might temporarily leave her without her sense of hearing, she could still smell him; especially the blood that oozed from the nick in his shoulder where her first shot had caught him.

Now she had two options. She could go back the way she came, into the den where the tormenting music was coming from and where Kale had a clear shot at her…or she could go the other way. Looking down the short hallway to the many closed doors, Lana grunted and remained where she was. Kale hadn’t moved much either, since the smell of his blood was still strong. What good was being a werewolf if she didn’t throw her weight around some? So she braved the open space and rushed around to the adjoining wall where her target was taking cover.

Immediately she went to wrap her left arm around the hand that he was holding the gun with so that it would be trapped against her side and her left hand swung forward, aiming to bludgeon him with the grip of her Colt. At the same time she reared one bent knee, jerking it up towards his ribcage in a high arc. She was tired of this foolishness gun show. Now she would be getting dirty.

"Do you think so?" he called back at her assertion that the glass had saved him. In actuality, that wasn't exactly the entire truth... though she wouldn't find out exactly how far from the actual truth it was until much later. And as for his needs to have so much armor scattered about his house, in truth he didn't have attempts on his life all that often... but it only took once. The armor plates had already justified their installation, actually.

"Oh, good, I hate to forget a target." was his blithe reply to the anger simmering under her voice, after which the blaring stereo music would cut off any dialogue between them for the next few minutes. That was fine by him, given what she was, her hearing was an advantage that he didn't need her to have. She would have others of course... and so he had to keep extremely wary as he moved around the house, seeking another opportune place to launch an attack on her.

Unfortunately, the house that he had retrofitted was not exactly a vault even after his time there, partially because he spent so little time at his actual home, most of his time being spent far away from Librium on one mission or another, such as the one during which he had shot her. As he started moving around, he caught a flash of red hair, and broke into motion as fast as he could. She got his gun hand before he could avoid that, but he certainly didn't have to take the Colt handgrip to the face that she was offering as her next gift.

His hand snapped up, blocking her strike at the wrist, then snapping his hand to the side and onto the grip she'd swung at him. He pushed it forward, thumb flipping the lever that unlocked the slide, and pulled the grip of the weapon free from the slide, half-disassembling the weapon in one stroke. He pulled away sharply at her strike, mitigating the knee to the gut slightly, enough to keep at least some of his breath, though not enough to avoid the sharp pain it entailed.

Still. If THAT was the game she wanted to play... He tore back away from her, moving with sudden and inhuman strength, then thrust his free hand out toward her - he was slightly too extended now to hit her with any real force, but he wasn't trying to: the veins in his hand and arm flared with unnatural light just before a blast of invisible force potent enough to knock a car out of place washed out toward her from his hand in a wave that filled the hall. Drywall shattered explosively, filling the hall in a dense cloud of choking white particles. The Guardsman leapt back, firing his massive pistol blind into the improvised smokescreen, then tossing the empty weapon aside and darting into the kitchen.

If she followed, she'd be met with an irregular black shape sailing through the air toward her... and Blue had thought he was crazy when she found the hand grenade under the sink.

As she managed to trap his gun arm against her side, Lana’s downward swing was deflected. Still though her knee made the barest of connections with his side; not enough to dispel any breath from his lungs, but enough to let it be known she meant business. He noticed it too, propelling himself beyond her reach and leaving her with the shell of a Colt handgun in her palm. Glaring down at the dismembered weapon, Lana tossed it aside in frustration and returned her glittering green glare to her opponent.

Without time to prepare herself, Lana grunted as his free hand slammed against her chest. The sudden surprise of his strike expelled the breath from her lungs and knocked the werewolf off her feet. She flew backwards and slammed into the adjacent wall; the plaster and drywall cracked beneath the force of her hit and crumbled down upon her when she fell to the floor. The result of her hit dusted the redhead in crumbs of drywall and chipped paint.

As the dust settled around her, she coughed and slowly began to rise back to her feet. Dusting the chips of paint and wall from her shoulders, Lana looked around the room with a casual grace. Kale stood across the room from her for a few more seconds before turning and rushing down the corridor into another room. Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? She grinned as she followed in his tracks though without the haste that he was revealing. Creeping closer to the doorway she unholstered the second Colt handgun and held it at the ready.

Because of the music blasting in the background, Lana couldn’t rely on her hearing to pinpoint his location. It was an annoyance that she would have to rectify soon. Spinning around the edge of the open doorway, her eyes first landed on Kale as he was swinging his arm forward to release the object in her direction. A second of tracking the things movement gave her enough time to analyze the shape and the path of the object while coming to the conclusion, through common sense and training about what it was.

Firing off a round at the trajectory, Lana turned her head as the objected exploded mid-flight so that any shrapnel didn’t fly directly at her face. She didn’t even wait for the debris to settle before she was charging him head on. The Colt reholstered and all of her strength flying at him at half of her full speed. If she was fast enough and Kale didn’t dodge her, Lana would double down aim her shoulder at his gut, arms to wrap around his waist and lift him from the floor into the air. For a second in time it seemed that she had stopped moving, but that was only because she had to reverse the motion of her swing and would hurl him back down to the ground.

Huh. Fuck.

The shot had apparently cracked the explosive casing of the grenade, because it went off with far less force than it should have, and Kale narrowed his eyes slightly as the relatively minor shrapnel struck out through the room - some of it straight at him. There was a flare of golden light as it came near him, but not a piece ever touched him, and he gave her a slight grin. The phrase 'too old for this shit' crossed his mind for a moment, but he pushed it aside and stood to meet her, his stance more casual than his earlier speed might have suggested.

"Never fancied myself a woodsman before. Mind if I get my axe?" he asked, turning one palm up slightly. She put her gun away instead of bothering with a shot - probably smarter than she knew. A .45 couldn't punch through his barrier even at this range without expending more ammunition than she had, but her football-style charge wasn't something he could project a shield against anyway. There was a slight glow again as he shifted his focus to his strength, but she matched it as she lifted him and slammed him back to the ground, kitchen tile shattering into jagged edges as the old soldier crashed with sledgehammer force into the floor.

Despite the impact however, the man was barely affected, grunting in response, but his counterattack came swiftly. He had pulled his head in and hunched his shoulders against the impact, and he pulled his legs up, locking them around her waist and throwing himself back hard - much as he outweighed her, it wasn't so much trouble to take her off the ground and bring her back to earth with almost enough force to put her into the basement before he unlocked his legs and pushed off, rolling back up and into a low crouch.

A small trickle of blood leaked down his forehead where a jagged piece of tile had cut him, but he seemed otherwise none the worse for wear, and he pushed himself back up as he beckoned. "Come on, pup... I'll just have to cut Granny back out of you."

Humble beginnings of a force recon scout during the war gave him the opportunity to discover where his skills were strongest. Edgar Williams had a gift for going unnoticed, and a sixth sense for where his enemy would be. The two mixed together created a dangerous combination that allowed him to get deep into enemy territory for extended periods of time, and make it out alive. After outliving all other force recon scouts in his class, the army saw his gifts for what they were, and trained him for far grander things. After intense combat training, both close and long range methods, Edgar became a government trained deep country assassin. After the war ended, his services were no longer required by the government, so he did what everyone else did. He found another way to survive by selling his services to the highest bidder.


Umbra had very deep pockets, and employed the best to quietly handle business that was better left unknown. Those deep pockets were the reason that competition was considered cut throat. Normally ones rank in the company was determine by the difficulty of the jobs they were able to successfully complete, but sometimes ambition drive individuals to eliminate the competition. Even though Umbra forbid such 'internal conflicts' because it impaired company resources, so he dealt with violators severely. However, these individuals they tried to control were hardened killers they chose because they were skilled at not getting caught. It was inevitable that a handful gave in and did what was in their nature.

Svetlana Kozlovski was one of the top ranked assassins employed by Umbra. She enjoyed being one of the first considered for difficult assignments that brought with them a lucrative payday, but those top spots placed a target on the backs of those who held them. Edgar Williams was new to Umbra's employ. He was extremely skilled, and working his way up the ranks, but patience was not one of his virtues. He wanted one become one of the Umbra's top operatives, and the quickest way was to create an opening himself. For reasons only he understood, Svetlana was the operative he chose to eliminate. Perhaps it was the similarities of their methods that would cause jobs that went to her to fall to him, or maybe she was the target he felt he could take out with the most certainty. In any case, Svetlana was marked for death and he was going to deliver her to the Divine Collective.


Edgar had spent more than a week stalking Svetlana. He watched her movements, waiting for her to be given a contract which he was no doubt passed over for in favor of her. He planned on using the contract as a distraction, creating an opening for him to take advantage of, and put the bitch down, permanently. When Kale left for his early morning breakfast and Lana was meeting him at the retro themed restaurant, Edgar was infiltrating the Terran Guard's property. By studying Lana's movements and Kale's patterns, he deduced that it would be here that she would strike. He lay in wait and through his own rifle scope, he watched Lana take her perch in the tree, and seek out her target. Even though he had crosshairs trained on the werewolf, Edgar didn't take his shot. From this distance his current rifle wouldn't be effective. Her acute senses and insane reflexes would render a long range shot ineffective. Lana's first shot rang out like a crack of thunder, signaling the start of the festivities. It was time to dance.

After Svetlana slipped from her perch and quickly entered Kales house to follow up on her first shot, Edgar extricated himself from beneath the underbrush that he had been using for concealment. He was clad in a densely woven black jumpsuit that was designed and treated to keep his scent in and make him invisible to the noses of beast that hunt by smell. Light weight body armor pieces were strapped to his body, and moved with him in each fluid step of booted feet. Gloved hands held a high powered assault rifle. His face was even covered by a full black combat mask, not only to protect his identity, but also for the vision enhancing features that the lenses possessed. Edgar was the type to seize any advantage he could. Moving through the garage door, following quietly in the footsteps of Svetlana, Edgar watched as the two warriors engaged one another.


His suit masked his smell and their gunfire and banter masked his sounds. Slowly he moved from one place to another while their attention was trained solely on one another, analyzing their fighting styles, offenses and defenses, and abilities. It wasn't until they disarmed each other, and Kale drove Svetlana through the kitchen floor that he saw the life ripe for the taking. Just as the floor boards broke and the two began to fall, Edgar swiftly ran into position at the edge of the hole. His hand pulled the fragmentation grenade from is belt, tossed it in the hole, resumed hold on the rifle's barrel, and opened fire.

Finger squeezed trigger and muzzle flare exploded on full auto. A high capacity magazine filled with sixty Teflon sprayed armor piercing rounds, was quickly emptied. Advanced lenses shifted their display to show heat signatures in only one eye so he could track them in the darkness, and not loose total sight when the grenade went off and engulfed the basement in flame and shrapnel. His primary target was Svetlana, but Kale also had an Umbra price on his head, so taking his life would be an added bonus. Steady hands kept the rounds in tight grouping, but he methodically moved aim from one target to the next, tracking them by heat signature until the grenade went off. He could just come up with some lie about Svetlana contacting him to provide backup on this job. He could take her spot and her pay all at the same time. As easy as three, two, one, BOOM!

His reference to Red Riding Hood made the assassin chuckle with amusement. That was right before she plowed into him at the stomach, lifted him from the floor and slammed him back down to the floor. Tile shattered beneath the Kale’s weight from the force she’d put into it and luckily his body shielded her from the shards that scattered to and fro from beneath him. Her arms had released him in the seconds before he had made impact with the floor and she was already preparing for her next attack when Kale retaliated with one of his own.

There was barely enough time to prepare before she was being twisted and forced down. Lana took the attack; pulling her arms in so that her hands were protecting her face and her back was slightly bowed. Slamming through one floor and catching Kale’s weight on top of her as she crashed into concrete basement floor did knock the wind from her lungs. Her eyes bugged for a moment as she looked up at him and gasped for air, dragging it into her lungs as fast as she could.

Blinking several times as she exhaled her green eyes began to focus behind Kale to the gaping hole above them and the figure that came into view. Her disorientation from having the wind forced out of her lungs lasted a few seconds longer than she would have liked, making her slow to react as the grenade was tossed down into the basement and the masked figure began to open fire on the two of them. She was shielded for a few seconds before Kale rolled off her and to the side, taking with him that force field of his as well as the protection of his body.

When he was gone however she was exposed to the rain of bullets that was being sprayed upon them by the unknown figure above. In the midst of rolling over to find cover, Lana felt the piercing sting of a bullet tearing into her flesh, then another as she rushed to an opposing side of the opening. Unfortunately it was also the furthest point from the door that led back up into the house. However considering her current predicament, Lana figured that being down here was a bit safer than it was up there with the masked psycho.

The next surprise was the grenade as it exploded. Lana instinctively lifted an arm to shield her face from any flying shrapnel and from the flames that ignited. A sudden suffocating heat filled the basement as the fire spread, trapping her against the wall where she stood. Growling she plastered herself against the wall, teeth gritted from the pain in her shoulder and hip where she’d been struck by the bullets from the masked gunman.

If truth be told... Kale was having a good time. Sure he was aching, the last time he'd been in a real knock-down drag out like this he'd been some ten years younger, but thankfully it seemed to be more his being out of practice than his actually getting too old. He moved like a much younger man - the doctors told him one side effect of his augmentation and natural power was probably going to enhance his lifespan, or at least slow his decline into the weakness of old age. Either way, for a man his age, he did damned well... it was a welcome change of pace.

He spent half a second wondering if she'd expected as much fight out of someone who was too old to have any business on a frontline unit by any human standards, then started to get up and go back at her... when the hail of bullets began tearing through the basement windows. The shield came up again by reflex, and golden light flashed where the rounds impacted, deflecting them off to the side with every flash, but the armor-piercing rounds did better than most. A few grazed him, and he winced as one took a chunk out of his shoulder, but they were no heavier than normal rounds, and as his focus came back in, the bullets veered off better. For a second he thought he'd been duped - but he saw the spray of blood as shots tore into Svetlana as well, and he had to re-evaluate.

Well that was interesting...

When the grenade went off, Kale did something even he didn't quite expect, stepping in the way between it and Lana, and light enveloped his body entirely as he took part of the blast for her, though it left him to drop to a knee, panting slightly before he grabbed her and pulled her to the wall the man was shooting through - in the basement as they were, he wasn't going to be able to hit them low, no man-portable round yet invented shot through six feet of dirt.

"You and I are going to have a chat someday... but I'm never fond of a double cross." he growled, keeping low as he moved against the wall to a lockbox that opened with a press of his hand. He drew out a weapon with a huge ammo drum, chambered a round, and moved against the wall to the lone staircase out. Against the cool earth, IR wouldn't penetrate either, keeping him out of sight... until he kicked the hatch that led outside clear off its hinges and swept outside, leveling the weapon at the hiding spot the attacker had been shooting from and cutting loose.

The weapon was too havy for most humans to carry, each 20mm round kicking like a horse, but Kale had strength enough left, and the heavy explosive rounds shattered trees into toothpicks as the barrage devastated the hidden shooter's area. It was suppressive, but Kale kept his barrages disciplined, advancing slowly and keeping his barrier up, seemingly an unstoppable force. In reality he only had so much left, but the old soldier knew well the importance of appearances... Umbra clearly didn't know what his real capabilities were. Better to let the man wonder if bullets or explosives could hurt him at all than show them how little energy he really had left...

This was going to hurt, very shortly...

All the chaos seemed to have Kale confused as to where the attacker’s bullets were coming from. He was inside the house, firing through the hole in the floor that their fight had created. In any case his tactical exit was a good move. It was bad positioning to be in an enclosed space with an attacker that had the high ground advantage. Unlike Svetlana, Edgar did not have the benefit of Umbra’s dossier on Kale, so the display of lights and ability was a pleasant surprise. He did enjoy a good fight. That was one of the reasons he stayed in the business even after he had enough money saved away to live a quiet life and want for nothing. It was the hunt that kept him coming back for more. There was nothing like the rush that came from taking down a tough target.

Seeing Kale go for the stairs that lead outside the house Edgar worked the angles to decide the best route from which to attack them. The windows were proven to be reinforced glass so making it through one of them was not easily done. The door was no doubt reinforced so he didn’t bother wasting his time to get through it. His best bet was the point that Svetlana already prepared for him. Edgar went running towards the ruined window that Svetlana’s high caliber bullet had already smashed through. The force of the bullet had already destroyed its structural integrity, so the impetus of Edgar’s leaping body crashing into it was enough to knock it from the framework.

Like the trained killer he was, Edgar landed in a smooth roll that ended with him on his feet, and taking his first step. Multitasking was possibly a soldier’s greatest weapon. While his feet carried him along his path, his hands worked to swap out the empty clip. Kale’s barrier had showed him it was going to take more than just armor piercing rounds to take him down. It was time to break out the expensive toys. Umbra had deep pockets to pay their ‘negotiators’ well, but they had even better connections to places to spend that money. The clip that was seated in the assault rifle was something he liked to call the ‘sampler’. Not being one of the soldiers who traded their humanity for power, Edgar became a master of using the tools he could get his hands on. Among his favorites were caster shells. They were expensive, but well worth the cost.

Edgar came around the edge of the house shortly after Kale and Lana exited the basement through the outside access hatch. He angled his path away from them, using the trees and underbrush as natural cover, and to keep his distance from the two targets. When they first came into sight he already had his barrel leveled and took the shot. When he squeezed the trigger to fire off the first round, both Kale and Lana would see the telltale sign of a caster round in the muzzle flare. Instead of a bright flash radiating out in all directions, it seemed to take a definite shape forming a rune that only existed for a moment. The first round was ‘dragon’s tongue’, a fire based attack. The bullet left the reddish rune explosion, and burst into a torrent of flame in midflight. It took less than the blink of an eye, but a torrent of flame would be heading straight for the pair and Kale’s shield.

Edgar continued running on his angled path, watching the effect that the caster round’s fire had on Kale’s shield. He also got to see the effect of the aged agent’s hand cannon. The first round collided with a tree that he had been lucky enough to run passed. The thin trunk exploded in a spray of wood shards and sap. It was enough to make Edgar stagger from the blast force, but the body armor protected him from any shrapnel from the tree. Edgar hit the ground hard but instead regaining his footing he rolled to keep moving, and leveled his gun one more time. The next bullet wasn’t fired at them however; it was fired at the ground before them. The brownish flare went off, and the ‘Earth Buster’ shell was loosed, as Kale’s second shot struck the ground next to Edgar and gave him a face full of rocks and dirt that knocked him back.

The ‘Earth Buster’ shell was meant for demolitions and breaking strongholds, but Edgar used it to throw his target off balance and buy himself more time to test them. Once the bullet hit the ground its magic went to work. It was meant to destroy stone, concrete, and metal with its effectiveness being curtailed by the hardness of the material it was used on. Being used on simple dirt and unworked stone meant it was at its most effective. The ground beneath their feet would erupt as if they had stepped on a concussion mine. It wasn’t strong enough to blow anyone’s limbs off or do any serious damage, but it was strong enough to throw a grown man ten feet in any direction and off balance if they didn’t have a way of avoiding it. He needed to separate Lana from Kale’s shield because she was his primary target.

Standing against the wall, injured and bleeding with smoke clouding her vision, Lana struggled to regain her senses in the ensuing chaos. The smoke blinded her not only visually but it also made it harder to sniff out Kale until he was right on top of her. Her target grabbed and pulled at her injured arm, tugging the werewolf through the flames towards an unseen exit. Sure, I'll invite you over to my place for tea. A sarcastic retort that wouldn't go unnoticed she was certain.

When at last the door was open and she felt sunlight flood her face, Lana breathed in deeply of the fresh air. Black smoke poured out around her in that brief moment in time, which seemed to last a lifetime but was only a second before Kale was pushing and pulling her at the same time away from the house. No offense but if you want to chat then I suggest you say it now! We might not get another chance! To emphasis this point another round of gunfire tore at them through the trees they were running for.

Jerking her hand free from Kale, she muttered some unladylike curses as she fumbled around for the loaded Colt holstered at her thigh. This couldn't be a rescue party for him or back up for her. Lana never requested back up, she always got the job done. This was a new player in the game and he or she was Hell bent on winning. She retrieved the gun from its strap on her thigh and glanced down for a brief moment to check the magazine in the clip hoping that it was the fully loaded Colt.

Her next step brought her to the discharged caster shell that the masked assassin deployed and as it went off she was flung backwards by several feet and lost her gun upon hard impact with the ground. Rolling several more feet, she finally came to a sudden stop only when her path intersected with one of Kale's many trees. The rough bark chafed at her through her clothes.[Son of a bitch,] she groaned as she pushed herself up onto her knees, then staggered to her feet. Her entire body ached now, the tumble adding injury upon injury.

Quickly she had to take cover behind the very tree that she hit. The wounds she had received earlier in the basement were beginning to ache worse than they initially had but Lana didn't have time to stop and assess damages. She needed to get back to her bike. Fuck Kale. Fuck this job. She would just have to explain to Flynn that the situation had got complicated and she'd had to bail out but that she would finish it later. He would understand and he would make the others understand as well.

((Kale was shooting back through the holes of the attackers shots, not the hole they fell through lol))

As Kale exited, he caught the flash, the whirling energy was something he'd seen a thousand times before, and so the soldier didn't bother thinking the action through before he snapped into motion. Flame was one thing... His shield could deal with it, but the thermal pulse wasn't the same as the kinetic impact, and he was going to have to soak that... Of course there was a second idea, too. He dropped to a knee, lowering his profile as much as possible, and tore the basement door clear off its hinges, energy burning brightly under his skin as he shifted his focus from protection to strength. The door fell over, leaning against him and covering him at a sharp angle to the ground. The flame, once freed of the tight cohesion from the rune and spreading out toward them would be as susceptible to deflection as any gaseous attack, and it hit the steel door before washing up in a wave over it. The heat made the metal glow shortly, and Kale hissed before shoving it off him, dashing off before the flames had cleared. The assassin had to be using thermal. Bad fucking move to use a flame based attack in that regard.

When the earth round hit, Kale wasn't near 'Lana, or anywhere else in the assassin's field of vision. Kale wasn't going to go that far out of his way to look after her, she'd showed up to kill him, and if she had the guts and (perhaps) the talent to pull it off, she didn't need or deserve him babysitting her. And besides... Kale wanted to test a theory.

He had several, in point of fact. First of all, one of Umbra's werewolves was here to kill him, which was interesting enough. What was really interesting, however, was that someone else had shown up, someone well equipped enough to have just spent two caster shells in pretty quick succession and to be using penetrating vision systems... there was a thought for when he rebuilt his trashed fucking house. Kale paused in a depression, using the cool earth to conceal his thermal signature, and pulled the heavy .500 revolver from its holster again, where he'd left it as he exited the building. He had more toys inside, but he was getting low, and he didn't think it would be smart to take the chance on going back for more ammo.

He had the 20mm cannon, which resembled nothing so much as an old AA-12 shotgun with an even larger barrel and drum magazine, and by his count he had twenty one rounds left to go in that. For his pistol, he was down to one speed loader, and a few loose rounds, but... Well, he couldn't keep waiting on a rainy day forever. He snapped the drum of the weapon open, pushed the spent shells down, and slipped in the loader of red-marked shells before snapping it shut.

When it rained, it poured.

He slid the revolver away, then crept like a ghost out of the depression and back into the woods that surrounded his home. Extrapolating from the position he'd been before... There. It was the flash of movement as the man reloaded that Kale caught, though he didn't see 'Lana just yet... she was distinctive enough to him by this point that he knew who was there. Calmly, Kale shouldered the massive weapon and let it speak for him again, thunderous reports shaking the leaves of the trees, each shot picked carefully - the first dropped right at the man's chest.

((He was shooting through the hole you fell through, so I guess that means they are the same hole after all LoL))

Edgar did his best to keep sight of all that was going on, but battlefields were chaotic messes so he did his best to keep his eye on the prize. Svetlana was the target he set his sights on so he made sure she wasn't lost from them. Dividing his attention allowed Kale to slip from his view and hide in the depression of earth. When Edgar gave a quick sweep back, to see where the other target was, he found nothing. He gave a silent curse to himself about losing one of them, and then turned his head to go back to concentrating on Svetlana. He fired off a few more rounds at the werewolf, but needed to stop the rain of hot iron so he could switch clips. With the next clip in place he raised his gun to resume fire and found out where Kale had gone to.

The 20 mm cannon shell that Kale fired off struck him in the chest as he was turning away. The combination of his combat armor and the fact that it had not hit him straight on was the only thing that saved his life. Edgar was blown back in a cloud of dust that would impair acquiring him as a target. His lungs were on fire, screaming for air that did not come, and the world around him was black save for twinkling specks of silver. He fought to clear his mind and fend off succumbing to unconsciousness, but it was no easy fight. This battle was to keep him out of the grave, because losing consciousness here was worse than a death sentence. A professional preferred death to capture.

Agony ripped through him and Edgar screamed out loud. He was a wake, he was alive, and the world was starting to filter back in at the center of his vision. He moved through the pain, searching his hand over his chest to feel the damage. The combat vest was badly damaged and couldn't take another hit like that again. Edgar's hand went to his hip and pulled free a reddish grey crystal and threw it down at the ground. That eternity of darkness had only been a few seconds but a lot happened in a short period of time when all was chaos. Svetlana was getting away and he had lost most of his defensive ability while the third wheel was breaking out the heavy artillery. He needed to get out of there. He needed to kill his target.

The crystal hit the ground and shattered into dust upon contact. Light exploded in all directions, and began strobeing quickly. It caused images to diffuse and distort in perceptions. It was prismatic flare, the magical equivalent of a flash bang grenade. It was meant to distract, distort, and disorient the senses so that the user could take action. The advantage of the magic over chemistry was that it could be made to last longer than its counterpart's components were consumed. Edgar struggled to his feet and began to run in the direction that he had last seen Svetlana moving. Labored breaths and aching body stole steps from him allowing the injured werewolf to gain ground on him. It wasn't long before she was out of his sight.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed when he realized that the trail was cold. She had probably managed to get back to her Ducati and escape. She was gone again, and now he would have to hunt for her. Edgar wasn't sure if she knew that she was his target, but he needed to act quickly. The painful run had helped him work out some of the aches and pains while he was forcing his body to continue. That was a small blessing, because now he had to make the run to his jeep. He needed to get his safe house and implement his backup plan. She would have to check in eventually, and Flynn was her contact. He just had to watch Flynn and wait for Svetlana to poke her head out so he could put a bullet in it.

<Exit Edgar>