1781/For Hire and At Odds

For Hire and At Odds
Date of Scene:	21 May 2020
Location:	Warehouse E
Synopsis:	Agent X and Security Special Winters clash over smuggled cargo. His client wants it. Hers wants to keep it. Bullets are shot. Behinds are wounded. Foreheads are stomped. Agent X ends up cuffed and served to the police. Miss Winters potentially earns a paycheck.
Cast of Characters:	Alex Hayden, Cecily Winters

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Alex Hayden has posed:
Warehouses. What is a more common site of theft and violence than the stereotypical warehouse? The truth is, there is a reason for this. Commerce makes the world go round. In a world of free trade, the exchange of commodities fuels all other industries. Restaurants need food. The movement of those goods requires management. Management requires various IT services. IT department needs hardware. That hardware needs to get to the office. Even with the worldwide web, things are always moving all around the world.

Amongst that ebb and flow of goods and commodities, smuggling is rampant. Criminals do smuggling. Criminals don't get along well with other criminals. Conflicts emerge.

Enter the world of mercenaries and security consultants.

Alex doesn't know what's in the box with SKU 645634563 on Pallette 54 of Container 12 on Warehouse E. He's just been paid to 'Get the box by any means necessary.'

A man of direct means and high physicality, this involved finding the security guard on duty and administering a sedative. And by sedative, we mean a haymaker to the jaw. Alex Hayden, otherwise known as Agent X, stands over the guard who is unconscious and breathing raggedly, his Mag-lite rolling across the concrete floor.

Alex picks up the Mag-lite and looks at the guard's name tag. "Thanks George. Sorry about the jaw. You may want to put some ice on that when you wake up."

He casts the Mag-lite over the virtual sea of containers and sighs, "Like a needle in a haystack. Just great."

His boots impact the concrete floor as he strides quickly and highlights various labels. "64? I must be on the wrong side of the damn warehouse." He starts running. There is nothing stealthy about his approach, just expediency. Very much smash and grab.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Of course, to Cecily's credit, she does get the occasional job. Protecting high value assets is what she does, whether it's breathing or in a box. Or breathing in a box. She's had some weird clients. Today she's got the most boring job ever. She was told to watch a box. And watch cameras. Still, it must be something important, as she leans against the counter in the little elevated security office. Eyes flicker from one feed, to another, and back again.

    "George should be checking in soon. I'll have to ask him if we can perhaps get some takeout delivered..." she muses, tails waving behind her slowly. She hasn't yet spotted Alex on the feeds, though she's also focusing mainly on the cameras that revolve around her treasured crate.

Alex Hayden has posed:
Alex runs right past the container that Cecily is watching, his mag-lite bobbing from container to container. He happened to just miss container 12. Roughly about fifteen seconds later, he is running back into view and looking confused. His hand rubbing the back of his bald head. The mag-lite temporarily blinds the camera as he scans all around. Finally, he looks at the label right behind him. He jumps back almost startled, then makes a fist pump. He sticks the Mag-lite in his mouth and pulls a crowbar off his back.

Tapping his palm once with the bar, he then rears back and sticks the straight end right into the hook of a padlock. Some straining and the application of some impressive strength 'pop the lock' without any finesse. He then starts unwrapping chains to get inside.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Wait. That's not George. Cecily quirks a brow, ears lifting. Then she stands up straight and rubs her temples, sighing. There's a moment where she's incredulous, and reaches for the PA system for the warehouse. Usually the foreman would use it to bark ordesr to workers, or declare lunch breaks or whatnot. No, this time Cecily is using it like an unhappy teacher.

    "And what do you think you're doing?" comes her voice over the loudspeakers. It's a mix of stern and... disappointed. It carries through the whole of the warehouse, and she moves her free hand to the bridge of her nose now instead. "You. At container twelve. This is your only warning. Leave now and the only thing the authorities will be receiving is your description and a copy of the security footage."

    She pulls out a briefcase and thunks it on the table, off mic, and opens it up. She assembles a compact sniper rifle quickly, and then turns the PA system on again, "Or else." She punctuates it by slamming the magazine home on mic and cycling the bolt.

Alex Hayden has posed:
Alex Hayden pauses for a moment and looks over his shoulder. He squints, looking around. When he finally spots the camera, he offers a huge grin. His middle finger is extended upwards as he makes a kissy face. His other hand quick draws a pistol and takes out the camera with a single round. Someone was handy with a firearm himself.

He then resumed his regularly scheduled burglary. He throws the latch on the shipping container and slips inside quickly going through the stacks of palettes. The container is large, so it takes a tick. He finally finds the right palette and goes through the task of trying to find the box with the right shipping SKU. "Come on come on.. There you.. no, not you. Why are all the numbers so LONG! Gaaah!"

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily sees the finger. And watches camera eight turn to static. Her tails start to swish rapidly. It's one part annoyance and one part amusement. "Well then, if that's how you want to play..." she murmurs to herself. She takes a moment, getting out her other bag and unpacking a compact SMG as well. She slings it over one shoulder, her handgun holstered below the other, and a bolt-action CSR in her hands. She checks her mags and not only secures an ammo belt, but stuffs one down her bra for the MP7 just in case.

    "Consider that your fair warning," she announces over the PA one last time before exiting the booth. She looks over the raised catwalk that runs the perimeter of the warehouse interior and starts stalking towards the quadrant where the intruder is lurking. It isn't long before she's in a raise position over his general area. She brings the rifle to her shoulder, scans the aisle with her scope, and fires.

    There's no chance she can ricochet a bullet into the container, but she certainly does try to land the shot in a way that makes it seem like it's a threat.

Alex Hayden has posed:
Alex ducks instinctively as he hears the bullet ricochet. His eyes squint in the direction of the opening before he turns back to his task. After a few more near matches, he finally secures the objective. He squints for a second then hums as an idea surfaces. He peels open the box to inspect the interior. He raises an eyebrow what looks like a Nintendo Switch and shakes his head, "Has to be some kind of disguise."

He shrugs and slips the apparent game console into his backpack giving it a quick zip. He then picks up one box with a similar SKU and tucks it under his arm. Yet another box is grabbed and tossed out of the container into line of sight of his adversary as a quick test of how trigger happy she is.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily cycles the bolt almost inhumanly fast, snatching up the casing before it hits the catwalk. "I suppose if we have to do this the hard way, we will," she gives an exasperated sigh. When that box comes tumbling out of the container, nothing happens to it. Quick thinking and quick fingers, maybe, but she's not as trigger happy as she seems. The grumpy fox lowers the rifle for a moment, glancing around to be sure that the thief is alone, and then resumes scoping in on him.

    Of course she doesn't know what's in the box. She doesn't even know if he's after the box she's been assigned to protect. It might be some unhappy coincidence. But she was tasked with protecting things here. And so, she waits.

Alex Hayden has posed:
Alex has been in the mercenary business to have learned the benefits of keeping a few tools at one's disposal. He can't count the number of times he's been pinned down by someone with superior range and height advantage. He reaches into his backpack and wraps his hand around something then creeps toward the entrance of the container. A pin is pulled from a canister. After a few moments, it starts billowing smoke within his hand. He wafts it in the direction of the entrance until he has a decent cloud then tosses it.

From Cecily's position, smoke begins to pour out of the container and then expand outside of it.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    The mercenary business is one thing, but the meta business is another. Cecily quirks a brow as smoke begins to billow out of the container and she exhales an exasperated sigh. Hard way, yep. She lowers her rifle and leans over the railing, eyes narrowing. "You could have walked," she grumbles loudly.

    Her non-trigger hand reaches out, arm outstretched, and with a moment's thought, is wreathed in flame. With a thrust of her arm and a flick of her wrist, it spirals out and down, splashing onto the concrete paving in front of the container and rising up in a wall of heat and light. Alex had better hope the smoke from his grenade isn't flammable...

Alex Hayden has posed:
     The grenade is flammable and there's a small explosion followed by a denser but more focused cloud then designed. Alex lets out a low whistle at the flames and then reaches up to pick a small piece of shrapnel out of his shoulder. He purses his lips and then shrugs. He crosses his arms and leaps through the flames. His backpack and clothes are semi-fire retardant. His arms singed, it hurts, he gets burned but that's what an aggressive healing factor is for. He uses the smoke as cover and runs in the opposite direction of the first gunshot.

A pistol in his right hand and a box tucked under his right arm. He starts taking shots at the lights of the warehouse, striking home and casting portions in darkness and deepening shadows. He yells out, "LET IT GO LADY! Keep taking shots and I'm going to throw frag grenades!"

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily might be a good shot but she can't see in the dark. She grits her teeth and growls as her target starts taking out lights and bolts. She keeps taking shots, going for Alex's legs.

    BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

     Either she's got some kind of enhanced speed, or some kind of special training, because she's unloading that bolt-action rifle like it's a semi-automatic. The fox empties no fewer than ten rounds down the lane before swinging the rifle on its strap over her back and hopping the railing, taking off after Alex, tails waving behind her.

Alex Hayden has posed:
Even with smoke cover and darkness, put enough rounds down range and you are going to hit something. Alex yells, "Fuuuuuuuck!" as he has a chunk of thigh blown out in a spray of fabric and blood. He takes another round as a ricochet off the floor, a metal slug embedding in his backside. Impressively he keeps running. He shoots over his shoulder with his pistol, dumping a clip in the general direction of Cecily.

When the clip empties, he slips it into a holster then tugs a grenade off his belt, leaving the pin attached to a loop. He tosses it high into the air over his shoulder and then rounds a corner around to put a metal shipping container in the way of the pending explosion. He ducks and weaves among the stacks of commodities but a steady trickle of blood leaves an obvious trail to follow.

KABOOOM!

Shrapnel flies in all directions, pinking off metal containers and bouncing off concrete. A few palettes of goods fall off their stacks. Paper, plastic, and other bits float into the air away from the explosion.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Normally Cecily would be using rubber bullets, or some kind of less-than-lethal option. But orders were very specific. And broken kneecaps are still better than bodybags. This, also, this is a meta threat. The flagrant disregard of a warning as well as the obvious healing factor now that she's emptied a few .308 rounds not just at, but into her adversary is telling enough. "You're only making things worse for yourself!" she calls out, hauling tail faster than an average human towards the bloody trail.

    She's catches some of those rounds, not fast enough to dodge them entirely, but agile enough for nothing to stick past a few grazes in her otherwise impeccably pressed professional attire. The trickles of blood staining her white blouse only serve to agitate the fox further. If she can get a good shot at Alex, she'll empty a burst or two from her PDW towards him. The gunfire drowns out the sound of the grenade pin being pulled, but the pause in the shots means she can hear it hit the floor.

    KABOOOOM!

    She's not close enough to the blast to take the full brunt, but she's not far away enough to avoid the shrapnel. Her arms come up to shield her, and she cries out as shards of metal and bits of concrete rip into her and past her. The smallest of cuts start to vanish in seconds, but the deeper, bloodier lacerations remain. She's not as durable as the gunman, but she's still standing, even with her sleeves shredded and cuts in her skirt.

    Past Alex's corner flies another rush of flame, bursting into an explosion a magnitude smaller than the frag, but still containing that heat and concussive force, Cecily's arm smoking and glowing from the outrush of energy and frustration.

Alex Hayden has posed:
"Hmm, I think that got..." Whoooosh! "Oh dear fucking god!" The collateral damage to the warehouse becomes real. Alex stumbles to the ground as the smaller explosion knocks a palette of goods against him. He's just about to come to his feet when a avalanche of boxes engulfs him, some of them smoldering. His muffled voice can be heard under the pile uttering profanities. Boxes shuffle and shift, as he tries to climb out of the rat's next of a consumerism.

Eventually, a very scarred, muscular, and somewhat burnt arm emerges. It searches around, manages to grab a box and hurl it to the side. It resumes this process until there's enough room for a second arm, and finally, his head emerges, the visor over his eyes cracked, big x scar on his scalp and face illuminated in one of the few lights not shot out.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "Breaking and entering... destruction of property... at least third degree theft..." Cecily begins to rattle off Alex's crimes. "...aggrevated assault and battery.. unlawful discharge of a firearm.. unlawful detonation of an explosive device.." the fox growls. She's outside of arm's reach, but standing by the pile of Alex and debris. She's bloody, her white blouse full of cuts and tears and blood splotches, her skirt and stockings having cuts and holes as well. She drops the half-spent mag out of her gun and pulls the one from her bra, slamming it in and aiming the firearm at Alex.

    "...now how is this going to go down?"

Alex Hayden has posed:
Alex flops backwards in the pile of debris and gazes upside down at Cecily. He offers a big grin at her, his angle isn't the most unflattering view of the foxy lady. With cuts and holes in her skirt and stocking, the mercenary displays enough of a childish outlook to ogle a little bit. He lets out a whistle, "Cute ears... cuter guns."

He tosses the box from under his arm to her feet and holds both hands up. "Luck wasn't on my side this time. So, I'm just going to stand down, sit still, and admire your stockings." He chuckles, despite inviting a shoe or rifle butt to the face with his snark.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    She is quite foxy. If not for the fluffy tails and perked ears, she cuts a pretty decent figure even in that battered, bloodied attire. If only she wasn't scowling so coldly at Alex. She stops the box with her foot, glancing down at it. She sighs, not even checking the number. There was a lot more stuff in that shipping container after all. And maybe, for the moment, she cares less about the cargo and more about shutting him up.

    "Charming, dear," Cecily says in response, exhaling with a wince, one ear flicking, still in a moderate degree of pain. Of course, the last thing Alex gets a glimpse of is those stockings as he gets a heel to the face. The fox doesn't have superhuman strength, but it's going to leave a hell of a mark with the power she does have. Once she's content he's out cold, she'll drag his ass out of the pile of packages and take the usual stock of things. Disarming, identifying, and of course, cuffing.

    Her client will probably be happy. The manager of the warehouse not so much. The NYPD will be dealing with things soon enough, and maybe, just maybe, Cecily can go get that Chinese takeout she wanted and take the rest of the night off to heal.