Cat, who had been looking through phones and pillaging pockets, looked over at Wendell. If he stayed where he was, he was going to go up in flames. She had no idea how he got his lead or maybe she would have been more hesitant to agree, but her first priority was herding everybody out of the burning building before, one, they caught fire, and two, the cops showed up. "Yeah, great. Let's go," she said hurriedly. She nudged at Day with her rocket launcher, indicating they should leave. The motorcycles were on fire, too. The burning asphalt and bent metal made the firey place actually seem like hell. In any case, she was sweating her *** off.
After giving Day the Let's Go prod, she went to the door and counted vampires leaving. One vampire. Two vampires. One... wraith? She guessed it was a wraith. It seemed to be a friend of Wendell's, in any case. "Well hurry up," she told it, whether it could hear her or not, then closed the door behind them. The door fell off its hinges and she had to tuck and roll. The entire building was crumbling. Cat looked around. Was the truck even still in one piece?
There it was. She rushed after it, put the rocket launcher under a tarp in the back, and squeezed in between Wendell and Day. It was only then that she realized she had no idea where they were going. "You found out where Maxwell is?" she asked Wendell as they peeled out of the burning lot. She was going to have nightmares for a week. She needed a good murder to calm her down.
[tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
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Catherine Nilson
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Day
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Day followed after Baby Girl, after she gave him an irritated nudge and meaningful look. “Right behind you.. don’t wait for me..” He had grabbed a knapsack earlier and was still shoving cell phones into it. He didn’t want to leave them behind, it would look weird to law enforcement if they found them sure, but there was still a wealth of information in those cells. They didn’t have time to sort it out, at this precise moment.. but in time, he would have time. And he would be able to log the information into his database. That sort of information wasn’t something you just walked away from easily.
Wendell had said he thought he had found another way, but he hadn’t exactly explained how. Day figured it had something to do with the wraith. He wasn't sure how that relationship worked, and right now wasn’t the best time for an impromptu lesson. Maybe it was a symbiotic type relationship? Or maybe the wraiths had powers he wasn’t aware of. He had thought they really weren’t that much help. But Wendell seemed to give his some important tasks, and so far, it had come through.
He was still buckling himself in as Wendell went like a bat out of hell down the road. Day looked back over his shoulder at Baby Girl, “Reload now.. and hand me a couple of magazines too, while you are at it.” He popped the empty ones out of his hand guns, and started reloading the rifle. “Gotta hand it to ya Wendell, I like your weapons.. and your truck. But ah.. if you don't mind.. can you give us an idea of what we might be in for..?”
Wendell had said he thought he had found another way, but he hadn’t exactly explained how. Day figured it had something to do with the wraith. He wasn't sure how that relationship worked, and right now wasn’t the best time for an impromptu lesson. Maybe it was a symbiotic type relationship? Or maybe the wraiths had powers he wasn’t aware of. He had thought they really weren’t that much help. But Wendell seemed to give his some important tasks, and so far, it had come through.
He was still buckling himself in as Wendell went like a bat out of hell down the road. Day looked back over his shoulder at Baby Girl, “Reload now.. and hand me a couple of magazines too, while you are at it.” He popped the empty ones out of his hand guns, and started reloading the rifle. “Gotta hand it to ya Wendell, I like your weapons.. and your truck. But ah.. if you don't mind.. can you give us an idea of what we might be in for..?”
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Wendigo
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Wendell simply drove. Right now, a number -- 216 -- was burned into his vision. More than the number itself was the image of the number: cheaply painted metal numbers bolted to wood. He recognized the warehouse.
He had spent decades in Harper Rock, and he literally knew every street, but to say he knew every warehouse would have been a stretch. How he recognized this one, then, or how he even knew where it was -- he did not know. Still, he had learned that being a vampire sometimes meant allowing instinct to take over.
He didn't know how to answer Day's question, but dozens of hunts' worth of experience had taught him a few things. "Vampires on the run hole up," he said. "Keeping allies nearby is a liability: more are easier to track. Facility itself might have guards, but they'll be easy. Bigger threat infiltrating his turf will be traps." He paused, considering what he would do. "Chances are, he'll have at least one plan of escape too."
Wendell pulled the truck into an alleyway between two factories and turned off the headlights. "That's the one," he growled, pointing two buildings down. "I'm thinking one of us gets an overlook there... he said, pointing to a nearby factory rooftop higher than the surrounding buildings. "One goes in the front door to flush him out, and one slips around the back?"
He had spent decades in Harper Rock, and he literally knew every street, but to say he knew every warehouse would have been a stretch. How he recognized this one, then, or how he even knew where it was -- he did not know. Still, he had learned that being a vampire sometimes meant allowing instinct to take over.
He didn't know how to answer Day's question, but dozens of hunts' worth of experience had taught him a few things. "Vampires on the run hole up," he said. "Keeping allies nearby is a liability: more are easier to track. Facility itself might have guards, but they'll be easy. Bigger threat infiltrating his turf will be traps." He paused, considering what he would do. "Chances are, he'll have at least one plan of escape too."
Wendell pulled the truck into an alleyway between two factories and turned off the headlights. "That's the one," he growled, pointing two buildings down. "I'm thinking one of us gets an overlook there... he said, pointing to a nearby factory rooftop higher than the surrounding buildings. "One goes in the front door to flush him out, and one slips around the back?"
Professional Sociopath, Genocide Architect
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Catherine Nilson
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Cat reloaded her rocket launcher, then checked her handgun and micro uzi. It took her a while to get all set, but she listened with her head half cocked to Day's question and Wendell's explanation. The air in the car was heady with smoke and perspiration, it made her feel intoxicated. There was something exhilarating about watching enemies burn; the gratification was mostly in their screams of desperation. Still, if only she'd managed to save one of those poor motorcycles. Struck down in their prime, she could have at least tossed one into Wendell's truck. Perhaps there would be motorcycles at the next place of interest.
Wendell drove like a hound on a scent, the determination with which he steered made him seem like a Maxwell Abbott-finding machine. Cat trusted him, had faith in his plan. "I'll take the roof, but let me have a piece of the guy before you're done with him." She leaned back and stared at Day, daring him to say she was too young, or too much of a little girl. She was so used to death, it was only strange to her when things were sunshine and rainbows now.
She really was excited to meet the guy. All this death was his fault, after all. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face. "Do you think he'll feel guilty? All his friends are gonna die," she asked philosophically. Streetlights whizzed by her head, and illuminated her reflection over and over. Or would Maxwell be pissed off? What if he was scared?
Wendell drove like a hound on a scent, the determination with which he steered made him seem like a Maxwell Abbott-finding machine. Cat trusted him, had faith in his plan. "I'll take the roof, but let me have a piece of the guy before you're done with him." She leaned back and stared at Day, daring him to say she was too young, or too much of a little girl. She was so used to death, it was only strange to her when things were sunshine and rainbows now.
She really was excited to meet the guy. All this death was his fault, after all. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face. "Do you think he'll feel guilty? All his friends are gonna die," she asked philosophically. Streetlights whizzed by her head, and illuminated her reflection over and over. Or would Maxwell be pissed off? What if he was scared?
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Day
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Day nodded as Wendell explained. What he explained was very close to what bail jumpers did. They always went back to what they knew. They hit up friends for favors owing. It was an obvious weakness. No matter how good a friend they were, when a person was on the run, that was the last thing most ‘friends’ wanted to help with. They were busy creating that gap between them and the runner.
Seemed liked from what Wendell, was pretty the same in vampires. Except, vampires didn’t die per se. They lingered in the shadow realm for a bit and then came back. That’s not much to do for a friend. But then Baby Girl asked about guilt.
“Guilt.. no. Hardly.. you don’t get where this guy got by giving into guilt. Or even having an inkling of guilt. This guy will send everything and everyone at us, to save his skin. Which could work to our advantage if the guy is a real asshole.. if some of his crew don’t like him, they may have left already.. and those that are still hanging around, may just pave the way for us to kill him. After all there is 20k on his head. Some of his crew might be in need of a quick 20k.”
Day looked at Wendell, “Since Baby Girl is taking the roof, I will storm the front and flush them toward you at the back.” He looked at his watch, “So you guys have seven minutes to get into position.” He opened the door and slid out grabbing his weapon as he did. “Seven minutes and I am busting in..”
He hung back in the heavy shadows, getting no where near the front door of the building yet. He used the time, while Wendell and Baby Girl were getting into position, to double check his weapon and play the scene in his mind. If it were him, he would have three guys on the front door, that would cause a loud enough distraction that he would know an assault was happening, and that he needed to head for the exist. But even if there wasn’t three, Day needed to make sure it was loud, and aggressive in order to spook Abbott and make him run.
Seven minutes came, and Day kicked in the front door. He frowned, no one was there to meet him or offer any type of resistance. He started a slow progression into the deeper part of the building. Room by room, no one. He would have missed it if Abbott’s men had closed it correctly. There was a piece of paper, half under a wall. Paper didn’t just slide under walls. That meant there was a secret room in the building. He just had to figure out how to get in. After some searching he found a panel that seemed to have more wear than the others. He pushed it. The wall opened.
Seemed liked from what Wendell, was pretty the same in vampires. Except, vampires didn’t die per se. They lingered in the shadow realm for a bit and then came back. That’s not much to do for a friend. But then Baby Girl asked about guilt.
“Guilt.. no. Hardly.. you don’t get where this guy got by giving into guilt. Or even having an inkling of guilt. This guy will send everything and everyone at us, to save his skin. Which could work to our advantage if the guy is a real asshole.. if some of his crew don’t like him, they may have left already.. and those that are still hanging around, may just pave the way for us to kill him. After all there is 20k on his head. Some of his crew might be in need of a quick 20k.”
Day looked at Wendell, “Since Baby Girl is taking the roof, I will storm the front and flush them toward you at the back.” He looked at his watch, “So you guys have seven minutes to get into position.” He opened the door and slid out grabbing his weapon as he did. “Seven minutes and I am busting in..”
He hung back in the heavy shadows, getting no where near the front door of the building yet. He used the time, while Wendell and Baby Girl were getting into position, to double check his weapon and play the scene in his mind. If it were him, he would have three guys on the front door, that would cause a loud enough distraction that he would know an assault was happening, and that he needed to head for the exist. But even if there wasn’t three, Day needed to make sure it was loud, and aggressive in order to spook Abbott and make him run.
Seven minutes came, and Day kicked in the front door. He frowned, no one was there to meet him or offer any type of resistance. He started a slow progression into the deeper part of the building. Room by room, no one. He would have missed it if Abbott’s men had closed it correctly. There was a piece of paper, half under a wall. Paper didn’t just slide under walls. That meant there was a secret room in the building. He just had to figure out how to get in. After some searching he found a panel that seemed to have more wear than the others. He pushed it. The wall opened.
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Wendigo
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Wendell had set his phone to vibrate at the end of six and a half minutes and pushed it deep into his coat. The coat wasn't insufficient to hide most of his weapons, but he had illusions for that. Illusions like this one.
He heard Day kick in the front door, and calculated that the door was probably well off of its hinges; he nodded to himself approvingly. Like most violators, Abbott would probably flee rather than fight, so Wendell simply waited and listened for movement. With his heightened senses, he could hear Day's methodical progress through the building: heavy boots made a distinctive noise. Equally distinctive was the sound of running. It was a rapid pace -- a vampire's pace -- but not a supernatural one. Even an unskilled tracker would know that his prey was coming right for him, and so Wendell waited patiently.
There was a brief pause as the silhouette appeared in the window of the back door, looking for exactly the ambush Wendell had set up. Hidden in the shadows as Wendell was, however, the trap went unnoticed. The figure -- likely Abbott -- hesitated in the doorway before opening it.
Wendell waited for the anarchist to step out into the open; had Abbott the power to escape by supernatural means, he would have done so already. For now, it was more important to get the drop on him than strike, so Wendell waited in what would have been plain sight save for his supernatural abilities. When his target turned his back to scan the rooftop of the building he'd just left, Wendell broke from the shadows.
Wendell had no qualms about shooting a man in the back -- and Masquerade violators were beneath even courtesies extended to men. Pulling the rifle from his side to a snap aim, he pulled the trigger. The ornate cannon produced a resounding crack, and the force of the shot caused a stumble. He pulled the lever on the rifle down and up with speed that would have shattered most weapons and fired again, and again, and again: knee, knee, back, neck... firing rapidly at the same level as the man fell away from the gun.
Behind him, Wendell heard surprised voices call out. Reinforcements? Police? It didn't matter. The thunderous frenzy from the rifle had drawn attention. It was the unavoidable result of releasing such a tremendous amount of kinetic energy. He would have to act quickly, he realized, to handle both problems.
He blurred up to the man, spinning him while lifting him to eye level. Wendell examined his mark's face closely for the first time: this was definitely Abbott. Probably for the best, given that he'd just put four holes in the man. Abbott scowled, and grabbed at Wendell's wrist. He human would be dead several times over already, but this was a vampire and he definitely had some fight left in him. Unfortunately, Wendell was now dealing with the competing threats of dealing with a Masquerade violator and of becoming a Masquerade violator himself: witnesses were unacceptable.
In a split second decision he instantly knew he'd probably regret later, Wendell spun, Abbott in hand, and used the force of the rotation to fling the man back toward the Warehouse. As he sailed away, shouting -- drawing even more attention -- Wendell caught a glimpse of the man's shocked expression. He wasn't sure if Abbott would clear the Warehouse entirely, but he had certainly thrown plenty of full grown men farther. Even if Abbott only hit the roof, Cat would be able to open fire on him from there.
Wendell turned to investigate the voices. If anyone saw what he had just done, they would have to be dealt with... harshly. His role in this fight would have to be suspended: it was up to the others now.
He heard Day kick in the front door, and calculated that the door was probably well off of its hinges; he nodded to himself approvingly. Like most violators, Abbott would probably flee rather than fight, so Wendell simply waited and listened for movement. With his heightened senses, he could hear Day's methodical progress through the building: heavy boots made a distinctive noise. Equally distinctive was the sound of running. It was a rapid pace -- a vampire's pace -- but not a supernatural one. Even an unskilled tracker would know that his prey was coming right for him, and so Wendell waited patiently.
There was a brief pause as the silhouette appeared in the window of the back door, looking for exactly the ambush Wendell had set up. Hidden in the shadows as Wendell was, however, the trap went unnoticed. The figure -- likely Abbott -- hesitated in the doorway before opening it.
Wendell waited for the anarchist to step out into the open; had Abbott the power to escape by supernatural means, he would have done so already. For now, it was more important to get the drop on him than strike, so Wendell waited in what would have been plain sight save for his supernatural abilities. When his target turned his back to scan the rooftop of the building he'd just left, Wendell broke from the shadows.
Wendell had no qualms about shooting a man in the back -- and Masquerade violators were beneath even courtesies extended to men. Pulling the rifle from his side to a snap aim, he pulled the trigger. The ornate cannon produced a resounding crack, and the force of the shot caused a stumble. He pulled the lever on the rifle down and up with speed that would have shattered most weapons and fired again, and again, and again: knee, knee, back, neck... firing rapidly at the same level as the man fell away from the gun.
Behind him, Wendell heard surprised voices call out. Reinforcements? Police? It didn't matter. The thunderous frenzy from the rifle had drawn attention. It was the unavoidable result of releasing such a tremendous amount of kinetic energy. He would have to act quickly, he realized, to handle both problems.
He blurred up to the man, spinning him while lifting him to eye level. Wendell examined his mark's face closely for the first time: this was definitely Abbott. Probably for the best, given that he'd just put four holes in the man. Abbott scowled, and grabbed at Wendell's wrist. He human would be dead several times over already, but this was a vampire and he definitely had some fight left in him. Unfortunately, Wendell was now dealing with the competing threats of dealing with a Masquerade violator and of becoming a Masquerade violator himself: witnesses were unacceptable.
In a split second decision he instantly knew he'd probably regret later, Wendell spun, Abbott in hand, and used the force of the rotation to fling the man back toward the Warehouse. As he sailed away, shouting -- drawing even more attention -- Wendell caught a glimpse of the man's shocked expression. He wasn't sure if Abbott would clear the Warehouse entirely, but he had certainly thrown plenty of full grown men farther. Even if Abbott only hit the roof, Cat would be able to open fire on him from there.
Wendell turned to investigate the voices. If anyone saw what he had just done, they would have to be dealt with... harshly. His role in this fight would have to be suspended: it was up to the others now.
Professional Sociopath, Genocide Architect
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Catherine Nilson
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Abbot ran and pushed human reinforcements out of his way, even toppling several to get in Wendell's and Day's way, throwing them under a bus if it meant that the injured vampire had just one chance at escape. He headed to the warehouse door, saw Day and spun on his heels. He ran for the fire escape while some grunts tried to defeat the second vampire. Spatters of stolen blood marked the vampire's retreat from the hellish din of the warehouse. Up he climbed...
Meanwhile, Cat had been listening with her cheek and ear pressed to the cold metal roof of the warehouse. There were lots of guys in there, and some gunfire that made her crows' nest seem like a rickety decision. She counted gunshots. Precise and redundant. Someone just unloaded an entire clip into somebody else. Still, there was commotion. Cat frowned, hoping that they would leave some for her. If Wendell killed Abbot without her, she would be so angry that she would stop mooching formaldehyde off of him and calling him at work. That would show him.
There was a loud creak as the door of the roof swung on its hinges and Cat stood up, rocket launcher in hand. Abbot stared back at her with surprise. He was out of options. It was fight or flee. Cat studied him for a second before lifting her weapon. The young vampire had very high skill and caught on easily to using firearms, but all the skill in the world didn't matter when her rocket launcher was involved. All she had to do was aim and pull the trigger.
Abbot charged and was knocked back by the missile. The rocket actually pierced his skin and propelled him off of the building. Cat ran to the edge of the roof just in time to see lawyer and missile make impact with the concrete. What followed was another tremendous explosion, and a ball of fire that blossomed petals that spread into the night, turning the ground into a hellscape. Cat didn't need to see Abbot turn into ash to know that he was gone. She stared at the display from the roof, ignoring everything else, transfixed.
A human with a walkie talkie clamored up next to her and looked over the roof at the destruction. "He's dead. We need to get out of here," he said urgently into the walkie talkie. Still staring at the beautiful fire, Cat reached over and shoved him over. He died on impact. While Day and Wendell cleaned up, she sat with her feet dangling over the edge and relaxed in the fire's warm glow.
Meanwhile, Cat had been listening with her cheek and ear pressed to the cold metal roof of the warehouse. There were lots of guys in there, and some gunfire that made her crows' nest seem like a rickety decision. She counted gunshots. Precise and redundant. Someone just unloaded an entire clip into somebody else. Still, there was commotion. Cat frowned, hoping that they would leave some for her. If Wendell killed Abbot without her, she would be so angry that she would stop mooching formaldehyde off of him and calling him at work. That would show him.
There was a loud creak as the door of the roof swung on its hinges and Cat stood up, rocket launcher in hand. Abbot stared back at her with surprise. He was out of options. It was fight or flee. Cat studied him for a second before lifting her weapon. The young vampire had very high skill and caught on easily to using firearms, but all the skill in the world didn't matter when her rocket launcher was involved. All she had to do was aim and pull the trigger.
Abbot charged and was knocked back by the missile. The rocket actually pierced his skin and propelled him off of the building. Cat ran to the edge of the roof just in time to see lawyer and missile make impact with the concrete. What followed was another tremendous explosion, and a ball of fire that blossomed petals that spread into the night, turning the ground into a hellscape. Cat didn't need to see Abbot turn into ash to know that he was gone. She stared at the display from the roof, ignoring everything else, transfixed.
A human with a walkie talkie clamored up next to her and looked over the roof at the destruction. "He's dead. We need to get out of here," he said urgently into the walkie talkie. Still staring at the beautiful fire, Cat reached over and shoved him over. He died on impact. While Day and Wendell cleaned up, she sat with her feet dangling over the edge and relaxed in the fire's warm glow.