Armed with nothing but a scalpel and a paper gown, this wasn't exactly the position Jason wanted to be in, facing what was in all likelihood one of the various elite DMA strike teams. Most likely, with Spike off-site, some other team had flown this telepath here and was waiting in the wings. He'd seen them. Nice armor, advanced melee and ranged weapons, and usually some low-level metahuman abilities; as well as, of course, constant training.

Slinging the telepath over his shoulder, lockpick in one hand, scalpel in another, he stepped out into the hallway... yup. Secure ward of a hospital. Impossible to say which one; they could've taken him anywhere while he was doped up. Jogging to the nearest security gate, he swiped the telepath's badge; only to face an armed security guard on the other side. No vest... just a plain brown security uniform, a hat, pants, boots, and a tenner.

Oh; a tenner with a single-shot grenade launcher on the bottom of it. Probably a goo grenade, or a stun one. Or maybe one of those Bola-style tether grenades?

As the guard started to shout something.. Jason didn't bother to pay attention to what it was.. he threw the woman at him; and then followed, landing on top of the pile of confused flesh, the unconscious woman still groaning in pain as Jason managed to yank the guard's gun, smack him on the side of the head with it... and then drop it.

Just after it hit the ground, it gave a buzz; and an audible click. Of course. The gun was made to shock someone if they stole it from the owner. Nice mod to put on a weapon for a security guard.

He started dragging the guard down the hallway; doing a hasty job of unbuttoning the guard's shirt with one hand as he did so, sure that every second mattered if he didn't want to end up buried neck-deep in cement for his next interview... When he reached the stairs, badging himself through, he could hear shouting; boots rising from downstairs, voices coming fast.

Jason moved up another flight of stairs; apparently from the sixth floor to the seventh; passed through a door... and finished taking off the guard's shirt, slipping it on himself. This floor... wasn't secure. He could see gurneys, perfectly ordinary hospital rooms... that one he'd started on must have been for psych patients.

He busily stripped the guard down the rest of the way, leaving him lying in his boxers on the floor... and tossed him into the nearest room... a utility closet. The boots were too small. He didn't have the hat; must have lost it in the initial melee. But he had clothes! And if he kept his third eye closed, it could buy him a few precious seconds to steal someone's gun. Preferably one he could actually use.

The stairwell door slammed open... Jason could see the grenade passing through before it even opened.

Backtrack then; he stepped back into the utility closet, covered his ears, shut his eyes... a loud pop. Boots stomping as the DMA agents charged out onto the floor. He could hear them moving; see that if he opened the door, they'd be opening fire immediately; but that they were currently stepping forward.

Alright. They were gonna clear each room on the floor. Good.

He stepped over behind the door, so that he'd be covered by it when it was swung open... and waited.

When the agent kicked the door open, and stepped through, sweeping the room with his gun... He spotted the guard on the floor. Lifted his radio to start calling it in... only to end with a gurgle, as Jason found a gap in his armor; a kevlar ring between the armored neck plate and the chest plate; and rammed the scalpel through, pressing the man back against himself, dragging him out of view of the hallway.. and taking hold of his rifle.

Is it? Yes! None of those irritating security features on the assault rifle. He could shoot just fine. He compared his feet to the agent; found the boots still weren't quite big enough. Damned size 14 feet.

He checked the rifle for a moment. A nice model; but nothing he'd ever used before. A 25mm rifle, usually called a Fifth or a Twin, essentially an upscaled version of the tenner; each magazine was spring-loaded and filled with caseless ammunition, and the gun held two 40-round magazines; able to swap between them automatically. If you had plenty of spares, you could just keep reloading without ever stopping fire.

He grabbed a few spare magazines from the fallen agent, and 'looked' out into the hallway. The others... there were two other men, rifles already raised, converging on the utility closet. One of them... was pulling a flash-bang off of his belt. Hah.

Jason checked the grenades on his victim's belt. Three flash-bang and... there we go. One fragmentation.

He stood by the door, quietly, waiting for the right moment... and pulled the pin on the frag grenade. When one of the outside agents started to toss his flash-bang in... Jason tossed the frag grenade out, and slammed the door; sending the flash-bang flying out.

Sure enough, the men didn't even notice the frag grenade; simply looking away to avoid the flash... and when the frag grenade went off, hundreds of shards of metal went flying in every direction. Lights flickered and went out. A few things caught on fire; a blanket over in the corner, a cabinet containing some biohazard materials.

When he stepped out of the closet to check out the scene, he examined both men. One was already dead, face-down on the ground. The other... badly wounded. Currently bleeding out. This was a hospital. They should be able to help him, right?

Oh! Jason dropped down to his knees, and started working the man's boots off. He could see... well, 'see'... that the camera was gone. The frag grenade had taken it out. And possibly a few patients in adjoining rooms. He could hear screaming and crying from nearby, and wasn't sure it was all fear. Why were these people armed like this in a hospital? Hell, why bring Jason to a hospital to begin with? He couldn't be too badly hurt, judging by how he felt now.

Didn't matter. Another team would be here any moment. Jason secured his new boots; comfortable enough, though it felt weird to wear them without socks.. grabbed two more fragmentation grenades... and headed back to the stairs, steadily marching down, keeping an eye out for who might be coming in; and hearing shouting, screaming.

When he reached the main floor, he could see... dozens of people out in the lobby. Armed agents, a few police officers, security guards. They were agitated, clearly, gesturing at each other, pointing at different areas. Hmm. A direct gunfight, with only some of his equipment, against dozens of people? Risky. Could probably make it through, but he wasn't some soldier who had backup ready to drag him home if it went wrong.

He noticed something... useful. Each of the stairwell doors had a directory. What was on what floor. And while the secure wing for nutjobs was up closer to the roof... bad choice, in his opinion, they'd probably be trying to break out a window and jump... the security office was down in the basement.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

What he wouldn't give for an EMP grenade right now.

Jason quietly headed down the last flight of stairs, and looked through the door... Cameras. Definitely not hit by the frag grenade. They'd spot him as soon as he opened the door.

On the other hand... he was wearing a security uniform. Taking a deep breath, and leaving the rifle under the final flight of stairs, Jason opened the door; and, covering his forehead with one hand, started groaning, stumbling forward; leaning against a wall, trying to act like an injured guard making his way through.

When another guard approached, appearing concerned, he rasped out... "Stairway! He's... in the stairway!" And kept right on moving. His disheveled appearance, the blood, seemed convincing enough for the moment; the guard ran for the stairs. letting Jason keep hobbling his way to the main security office.

A nice bulletproof glass window, a security door; which opened at the touch of the guard's badge; and he could see inside the room. Two of the guards sitting at a desk. One of the agents from the DMA, standing beside them. Looking over the video cameras, relaying information. He could hear them... "We can't see him on cameras, and half of our cameras are out. We just got a confirmed sighting of him in the stairwell. He's moving between floors. If you see him, or hear anything suspicious, call it in before you engage."

Jason shook his head, holding in a barely restrained laugh... as he opened the door, rolled in a second fragmentation grenade; and then dropped flat on the ground. He could hear momentary, muffled cursing, before the loud 'crack' of the detonation; none of the shrapnel pierced the wall he lay behind, but he could see some holes in the bullet-proof glass, and more of the lights had just gone out.

As he entered the room, he could hear one of the security agents groaning, already unconscious; the other already dead. The DMA agent, though? Despite lying on the ground, clearly bleeding and in terrible agony... managed to groan into his radio. "Security office! He's... in the security... office..." Jason gave a nod... and dropped down to his knees, quietly sliding the scalpel free; and pressing it into the man's throat.

A sudden spurt of blood. The sole survivor went out with a gush of blood splattering both Jason's arm and his own chestplate. Jason grimaced at the idea he was about to try... but needs must as the devil drives. Reaching down, he smeared a bloody hand over his own head, covering his forehead, making sure he looked like an absolute disaster... and then, taking one of the latest victim's fragmentation grenades in hand, simply lay face-down on the floor; pretending to be a casualty.

This was against the geneva convention, wasn't it He seemed to recall being told that sometime in the past. He tucked his grenade-holding hand under one of the bodies, to make it just a bit more convincing.

Then... he waited. The DMA agents moved from room to room, clearing the basement. They swept the security office; he could 'see' them entering. Looking over the bodies. Just about ignoring the security guards... and himself.. as they went to check on their own agent. "This is Robbins. Tango has been in the security office. Used one of our grenades to take out overwatch as well as the cameras. We are blind, I repeat, we are blind. Assume target is in the wind."

He checked the pulses of the three; Jason carefully remaining still as the agent checked his own. "We have two dead, two wounded, security office. Send in recovery after we clear the building."

Once he stepped back out of the office... Jason made sure he was really gone. Then pulled back to his feet... and looked over his new situation. The security office consisted of a 'Lost and Found' section, with carefully sorted objects, a few safes, a gun rack, and lockers for the security personnel.

Tupperware containers full of sunglasses, cellphones, watches; each labelled with a date and a room they were found in, and a few other codes he didn't understand; but probably having something to do with efforts to find the owners.

It'd be really handy if this room had clothes... but then, that was probably somewhere else. Maybe in admin? They probably wouldn't bother to lock that up.

Checking the lockers, he found a change of clothes; possibly belonging to a dead man; and got into a normal outfit; jeans, t-shirt, a hoodie. Made a bandage for his forehead from the first-aid kit.. and prepared to step out.

Except... so much valuable stuff here. He checked out one of the safes. Four of the numbers were a bit worn. the 1, the 4, the 7, and the 9. And considering most people liked to use years... He ran them through his head. 1974 would unlock the safe. Good lord, what idiots.

He popped the safe... and found... a collection of wallets. Credit cards. IDs. All with sticky-notes attached. This.... could be useful. He pocketed all of the cards, sorted through the wallets til he found one that belonged to a man that vaguely resembled himself... at least, could be convincing enough with the bandage... and pocketed some of the cash as well.

And, well. A couple of rolexes. Who knew, he might need to sell something at a pawn shop on the way out.

Finally, he checked the gun rack. Seemed simple enough. You put in a code, hold your finger to the tab so it saves your fingerprint to the gun's firmware... Of course it was 1974.... the handgun unlocks. Simple 10mm pistol, that 'stun' attachment was probably there to hit people who tried to steal the gun.. but really... it was all he'd need.

Every exit was going to be guarded. They were probably evacuating the hospital right now. So...

Step one, get geared up. Step two, cause a distraction. Step three, get the hell out.

He collected the grenades; the other frag grenade, all three flashbangs; it seemed they went for similar loadouts for this job; from the dead agent, and headed back out into the hallway.

This floor was fairly deserted at the moment. For standard procedure, they'd be checking each floor, bottom to top, looking for him... but that 'in the wind' phrase... they thought he was already gone. Pulling the strings on all of the grenades at once, leaving only a single flash-bang behind, he tossed them to the bottom of the stairs... and opened the lobby floor, running, hands raised. "He's in the basement! He's in the basement!"

Three agents were at the ready, rifles pointed at the stairwell door... they lowered their rifles on seeing what appeared to be some random patient, though they didn't turn away, clearly ready to interrogate him.. and then heard the series of loud pops and a muffled explosion coming from downstairs.

One of them nodded at Jason; the other two simply ignored him, as they all ran by. When Jason reached the lobby, there were more guards checking each patient that exited; he looked them over; four ordinary men, not DMA agents, in security guard uniforms, one pair at each exit door. Probably co-workers of the men he'd killed with the grenade. There was yet another fire-team of three DMA agents over by the reception counter; one talking to a receptionist, the other two eyeing the crowd of patients and visitors trying to get out of the hospital.

One of the guards, checking IDs and passing patients out the door, one by one, glanced up, spotted Jason... and frowned. Something about Jason must've been suspicious. He lifted up his radio..

"Attention all agents! There is only one wounded downstairs! Tango is wounded and dressed in a guard uniform!" There was sudden chaos. The patients lurched away from the guards. The agents suddenly turned to the guards at the doors, raising their rifles. The guards suddenly looked at each other...

And Jason ducked behind some seating; not too suspicious, as most of the civilians had gone for cover of some sort. Unlike the civilians, however, as the guards and agents were shouting at each other, he was pulling the pin on the final flashbang, rolling it under the row of chairs; and covering his ears as he crouched down.

Another bang. He could hear a steady ringing that had been a familiar friend of his during his first hospital visit in the desert. He lurched to his feet; pretending to be stunned, afraid... and as one of the agents actually fired a shot at one of the guards in the ensuing chaos... slipped out the doors with a crowd of others, running, screaming, from the hospital.

Outside the hospital.. police cars. Ambulances. Fire trucks. A veritable swarm of activity.

Doing his best to appear bleary-eyed and confused, Jason stumbled towards the nearest ambulance. There were two EMTs behind it, loading up an unfortunate young woman with... a shrapnel injury. He reached out, and grabbed one of their hands. "Sir... Can't... hear. Ears. Hurt. Can you take me to... other hospital? Please?"

The two EMTs hesitated. One stepped up to Jason, while the other turned around to climb into the driver's seat. He could barely hear the young man's response. "Sir, we've got to go. We've got a critical care patient. I understand if you're hurting, but I promise you, another ambulance will be here shortly."

Jason stepped even closer... pressing the tenner into his right sleeve, he was about to threaten the man... before he shook his head. "Just... climb in the back and hold on tight. We'll get you over to Mercy. "

"