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(Setting) Ishmael's Kitchen
| >There is a sound of combat boots approaching the front door, then a knock. It seems like Ishmael has guests.
| >half shuffling, half swinging on his crutch he approaches the door, but not before he grabs Darling Jane from the umbrella stand.
"who's there?"
>he asks moving into the door-frame.
| "We're Fire-team Alfa, Cain sent us, on the subject of androids?"
| >propping himself up on his rifle, he unlatches and unbolts the door, Marvellous Noel in free hand, pointed at stomach height.
| >At his door, Stands a group of 4 people, all geared up in tactical clothes.
"It be nice if you did not point that at us."
>The leader of the group says.
"My name is Lead. This is Marlow..."
>He points to a rifleman
"Yane, our resident pyromaniac"
>Pointing to a gal, with a large backpack.
"and Evie, our sharp shot."
>he lastly points to a girl, shorter than the rest, holding a larger rifle than the rest.
| >He holsters his weapon and smiles.
"well this is certainly a little more than i expected, do come in."
>He about turns and gestures to the table.
| >The group crowds in to the kitchen, trying to find a place to sit. Once all settled, Lead speaks again.
"So what do you need us to do?"
| >Ishmael lowers himself into a chair and places a holo projector in the middle of the table. the image flares for a moment but ends up showing an old construction site.
"From all the data I've been able to gather this is where our little freind is hiding out. What I need you lot to help me with is apprehension. I need him operational, disabled or crippled is fine, but alive is the end goal, however if he starts to get too out of hand then needs must, It's R&D who want him alive."
| "OK. So We will stick to EMPs. Lane, Did you bring the EMP loads for your Mortar?"
>Lead asks Lane.
"Sure did. Also got HE, AP, INC..."
>Lead hushes Lane while she keeps listing on and on.
"Ok, ok, I get it. So we will place Evie on overwatch, with Lane on artillery support, and Me and Marlow will be on the ground with you."
| >Ishmael shakes his head sadly
"Im afraid those emp wont work. Both of them are wrapped in some kind of armored plastic, if anything is gonna throw them off, its gonna be force."
>He lays Noel on the table and affectionately gives her a pat.
| "Well, we will need to drop by Cain's then. These AKs are not going to cut it I guess?"
>Lead taps his rifle.
| >Another head shake.
"I'm afraid not, their armor is maintains toughness without compensating for mobility, and on that note their lightning fast. Without jest, blink and thell be behind you. Keep an eye on each other or god help you."
| "Wilco. We can still sting with grenades and larger calibers, but we will need to resupply. Just came off a job."
| "take whatever you will but please, give them a chance."
| "I'll try, can't promise much for Lane though. Our radio number is 85.6, you can contact us that way. We will be going now."
>The Groups leaves the apartment.
| >Ismael nods and smiles. He returns to the table and pulls his porridge bowl closer. Gazing into nothing he begins spooning cold porridge into his mouth. How much further could he take this? and how much further could he, or infect this fire team go?
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| A battered and injured Ishmael sits in his kitchen. Rain coming down in stair rods hammering on the window.He sits before a scrubbed wooden table; on it, a tar black mug of tea and a phone. He drums his fingers on the table. Looking at nothing, but waiting, and yet, the storm brews.