Near the barn
Lani slowly approached the barn. She had grabbed an M4 from the suburban and a bag of explosive charges that she had learned how to prep from Michael teaching her how to be utterly destructive and ruthless. Keeping her eyes on the surrounding area of the house, she was shocked that nobody was outside waiting for her. She made her way to a window and peeked in. It was plenty dark out, so she was able to look without being seen.
Inside the house, a man with an MP5 cut up random food items on the kitchen counter. He’s an armed belligerent, she thought to herself. She quietly climbed the two story house to look for more indicators of hostility or activities to ensure that she wasn’t about to destroy a house with innocent people.
This was the first time she had gone on the offensive without Michael giving her detailed instructions on what was to be expected, or how things needed to go when it happened. She had to piece together this mission herself, and could only hope that she made the right choices.
As she looked through the other windows around the house, she saw that there were more armed men walking around. MP5’s, AK’s and a couple shotgun looking weapons. These guys are definitely viable targets. She went back to the ground and started placing the charges. Taping the blocks to the corners of the house, she set them for two minutes. This would give her enough time to place the charges and get away. She moved fast but quiet as she placed them before running away from the house on a side that wasn’t overlooked by as many windows, minimizing her chances of being observed.
Once she got to where she knew she was safe, she faced the house and lay flat down on the ground and waited. By this time she had twenty seconds before things were going to get very loud.
In the Hellrealm
Michael clutched his sword as he saw the first thing running toward him. It had red skin, a slender build and a flat face, much like someone had taken a tomato and drawn features on it with a pair of paint pens. He held his blade low, with the edge facing the creature. As it got within striking range, he swung the blade up to point it at the things chest, allowing the momentum of the running to impale itself on his sword. It still tried to swing a clawed hand at him, but with the sword in its chest he was able to turn the thing and draw the blade out, cutting it in half. These things die at least, he thought to himself as he proceeded onward.
Another pair of them came running down the cave, letting out growls and yells that didn’t sound much like anything he had heard before. He cocked the blade back over his left shoulder and waited till the first one got within range and swung it horizontally through one, turning the blade over and swinging upward in a bottom-right to upper left diagonal motion to cut the other one down. They fell easily.
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Gotta keep moving he thought to himself as he started moving forward at a more brisk pace. He started shuffling to almost a run as he pushed on, swinging his blade through the creatures as they ran at him. Not feeling punished right now, might not be there yet.
Back at Headquarters
Tom stood over a body. The metal mask had been smashed into his face, his M240 had been rendered useless by some well placed .40 S&W rounds, his friends had been shot down and his Escalade sat in the front door of the building, the radiator broken and the tires flattened. Tom clutched his M&P40, newly scratched from having been used as a hammer to kill the enhanced attacker he had just faced.
Behind a coffee stand, a barista lay crying as a medic rushed to her with his aid bag. “I’ve got you ma’am,” the veteran doc said to the injured coffee server who was laying in blood as her foot lay detached from her leg and her arm lay useless from being shot through twice, “you’re gonna be alright.”
As Tom stared at the door, an agent approached him. “We haven’t been able to reach Michael.”
“He’s either incapacitated,” Tom said with a smirk, “or he’s operating.” A moment went by, the agent continued to stare at him. Tom turned and said with a faint chuckle, “you think someone who’s killing these assholes is gonna answer his phone?”
As he spoke, another man in a suit approached. “Tom,” he asked frantically, “what the fuck just happened?”
Tom took a slow breath, pulling a cigar out of his pocket and lighting it. As he puffed the smoke, he turned to the suited man. “We’ve just had war declared on us,” he said with no longer the friendly voice he usually spoke with, “by someone with the same resources that we have.”
The man began to hyperventilate. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and made a call. With two rings, the phone was answered. “Papa,” the youthful voice on the other end said.
“Mein liebling,” he said with a deep sigh of relief, “wie geht es dir heute?”
“Es eine gutes tag Vater,” she replied, “Du klingst besorgt.”
“Gotta go sweetheart,” he said as he switched to English, “just wanted to hear you.”
“Awe, I love you papa,” she said as the man hung up quickly and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
Tom smiled, the sound of that call gave him that nudge to keep his typical positive attitude and high hopes. “Folks,” he said as he turned to address the people who were gathering around him, “We’ve got an open war on our hands. Chances are, the secret is gonna get out.” As he puffed on his cigar, he chuckled. “It was in wait for this day, that I wanted all our gifted special people to be on their best behavior. Worse than the fight against our enhanced enemies is the damage control we’re gonna have to do now that the first thing the public is gonna see will be the terror being wrought upon them.” He set his cigar in the eye socket of the man he had stood over and walked back towards his office. “What are you waiting for? We’ve got work to do.”