SHIFT (Michael)
Michael sped towards the dilapidated apartment building.
The mission was a smash and grab, a single target with a handful of guards. Somewhere behind him, Shade was running the mission, and he'd sent Michael in to scout from the ground floor up. Wind would be landing on the roof any second to work from the top floor down.
Division had been working with them all on overcoming their weaknesses, it was why Shade, who usually slunk around on the outskirts, had been put front and centre. Michael grinned as he avoided the front door, aiming instead for one of the grimy ground floor windows. Who's predictable now? He thought at Division, crashing through the dirty window at full speed.
Fragments of glass burst away from him in a glittering halo of light, a couple of shards clicking from his newly armoured suit and helmet. He rolled as he landed, coming up running, crossing the room in a couple of steps. It seemed empty of any sort of furnishings, but piles of old blankets, bottles, and needles littered the floor. He slowed a little as he triggered his comm.
"Evidence of squatters," he whispered, before speeding up again as he exited the room. He was ten steps down the corridor, glancing into each empty room, when suddenly his right leg caught on something. He blinked as his face sped towards the floor, but if there was one thing you learned as a freerunner, and as a speedster, it was how to take a fall.
He twisted and reached down with his right arm catching and pushing against the floor, using the point of contact to change attitude and momentum. His arm throbbed from the sudden violent twist of the impact, and he was lucky it hadn't broken, but it served its purpose, turning a face plant into a single-handed cartwheel, and Michael was back on his way.
"Tripwires," he whispered into the comm, now travelling a little more slowly, a little more carefully, which was exactly what their target wanted.
He'd cleared the ground floor and was up on first when he spotted another tripwire ahead of him. Huffing in frustration, he easily hopped the wire, gasping as the floorboards on the other side gave way beneath him.
Son of a bitch! He thought, trying to catch on or connect with something, anything he could use to alter the dynamics of his sudden downward fall. With nothing in reach, he relaxed his body, ready to absorb and distribute the impact. But the floorboards below had been cut to give way too, hardly slowing him on his fall to the basement.
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NORTH WIND (Mia)
Mia was clearing the top floor slowly and carefully, holding a full body ice shield in front, mind picking at the air currents, and eyes looking for heat patterns. There was no way she was going to be caught off guard like she was with that cat.
The rest of the team would be entering from below after Shift had swept the ground floors, so her job was mostly that of a cork in a bottle. To be honest, she wasn't sure splitting up like this was the best way to go, but Shade liked to slink and circle around a target, and she'd decided to keep quiet.
It's not like she had had any better ideas, her plan would have been to either storm the place as a team, or to just start summoning frost until the whole building turned into an ice cube.
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She decided she couldn't detect anything moving anywhere on the top floor, and there were no heat spots that she could detect, but she still advanced with caution, checking and clearing each room as she passed. Their target was tricky and knew way too much about them for her to relax completely.
She opened the second to last door, ready to finish up and move down to the next level. The room was empty of anything but an old metal locker, cold and lifeless to her vision. She moved onto the next room, carefully opening the door.
She ducked behind her shield as a shotgun blast went off, a spread of pellets impacting the ice but barely penetrating even the soft outer structure. She quickly spread her awareness forward, how had she missed someone? And frowned in annoyance as she detected nothing. She snuck a peek past her shield as no new shots rang out, and saw a shotgun braced on a chair, a fine wire looped though a small pulley attached to the door.
Godammit, she thought relaxing slightly. Setting up that kind of trap was dangerous, even if it had been a bit of a dud. A cloud of white smoke was billowing from the shotgun, suggesting that the cartridge had probably been badly packed.
She frowned again as she considered the chances of this target setting up a dangerous trap with such carelessness, and her nose itched a little as the smoke finally reached her. She was about to summon some wind to blow it away, when she recognised the smell of salt.
Oh shit, she thought, realising that this was a trap set specifically for her. She quickly grasped all of the diffuse sodium with her power, compacting it into a small solid white ball, and only breathing a little easier once she'd jettisoned it out the window.
She startled as a crack rang out, but it wasn't another shotgun, it had come from her shield. She watched in fascination as cracks began to form, fracture lines running from the small pellets as they began to fizz and burn. He'd made the damn pellets from sodium she thought in frustration, letting her shield collapse before it had a chance to completely fall apart.
She blew the shards away, and had just began reforming it when she heard a quiet cough behind her. A cloaked figure stood in the doorway, mist rising around him as the last of the dry ice he'd been using to hide from her heat senses dispersed into the air. She couldn't see much of his skin, but what she could see was dry and chapped, the dark mocha turning black in places where the freezer burn was worst.
Before she could do anything, he raised his foot up to her reforming shield, and leaning forward, he kicked out with super-human strength, launching her back across the room and out through the window.
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SHIFT (Michael)
The fall had taken the wind out of Michael, and he'd lain in the foot of water that broke his fall, waiting for his ribs to re-knit and his diaphragm to stop spasming. But then he heard a slosh as something moved in the room, and realised he didn't have time to feel sorry for himself.
He staggered up to his feet, dripping water and grasping in air as his lungs finally started working again. The basement around him was dark, flooded, and a cloaked figure stood across from him, having moved to stand between Michael and the stairs up.
"I didn't even realise this place had a basement." Michael said, playing for time so his ribs could finish healing.
"Should have done your homework." The figure replied, pushing back his cloak to reveal a taser rod held in his right hand.
Michael grinned and drew his own baton. Anyone who thought a little bit of water would slow him down had a surprise coming his way.
But rather than assuming a fighting stance, the figure simply held it out to the side, away from his body. "I've been meaning to ask," the man said, "What happens when you get tased? It can't be much fun with all those fast twitch muscles."
Michael kept his grin, despite remembering the pain of the last time he'd caught a taser in sparring. He was pretty sure he'd kept his reaction from the others then, and tried hard to hide his memory of it now. "Why don't we see if you're fast enough to find out, old man." He prodded, deciding it was time to get down to things.
But the figure shook his head sadly. "You're standing in water, Shift" he said almost kindly. "I don't need to hit you."
Michael looked down at his feet.
The Division clone took shook his head again, this time in exasperation, and taking advantage of Shift's distraction, tossed a stun grenade forward with his other hand.