5147/Iron Fortitude: Overtime

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Iron Fortitude: Overtime
Date of Scene: 12 February 2021
Location: Tesseney, Eritrea
Synopsis: Having flipped the tables on the job, Iron Fortitude and the two undercover SHIELD agents defend their position, then take out their ex-client to fulfil the new contract. They're in.
Cast of Characters: Bobbi Morse, Lance Hunter, Leopold Fitz

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    The calm before the storm. It's electric, in the air, as the other Iron Fortitude soldiers -- Wassail, Dizzy, Blackjack, and Primrose start moving weapons to windows and walls, moving furniture to doors. The compound that they have rented out is an ex-diplomatic compound. It's seen better days, with bits of rotting cement exposing rebar beneath. At least the place is steel reinforced.

    Three stories: ground, top, and basement. A large vehicle parking area. Surrounded by reinforced walls. Steel doors and electronic locks with sturdy dead bolts. It was a fortress when it was built in the 80s. Now it's what a memory of what fortress used to mean. Wassail hits a button and steel shutters close over most of the windows.

    Tied to a chair in the kitchenette area is Aadila Evans, daughter of a warlord from eastern Sudan. The desired target for blackmail, torture, murder.. who knows, of Eritrean warlord Davarius Taylor. Thanks to Fitz and Simmons, Wassail decided not to turn her over and now Taylor is coming to take his prize by force.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter is that tense sort of calm that comes before a battle, readying his weapon, checking it over and checking it over again. It's more to just keep himself busy rather than any need to make sure it'll work, he knows it will, they just have to get through all this bloody waiting. "Ready Pitch?" he asks Fitz, with a glance and a frown at their captive.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Yeah, this isn't really where Fitz saw himself a week ago. Being undercover on any sort of mission would have been a stretch. Being in an antique of a fortified bunker waiting to be attacked by a viscious warlord? Defending a hostage -- who they kidnapped in the first place? With a bunch of other mercenaries that don't entirely trust them? Definitely not the dream scenario.

The recruiters who brought him into SHIELD definitely didn't mention anything about this sort of thing. It's not in the brochures, that much is for certain.

Still, at least they are the ones with the home field advantage this time. They're the ones with the steel reinforced walls to hide behind. The ones with the cover. It's not much, but it's something.

So very much like his partner on this mission 'Pitch' is busy going over his own gear, making sure it's all good to go for when the inevitable shooting starts. "More or less," he offers back, eyes fixed on the weapon he is reassembling in front of him. "I'd be a little happier if Wassail trusted us enough to let me have set up a few surprises for our uninvited guests. Even with just what we have to work with here I think I could have thinned out the herd a bit," he says lowly.

He, very carefully, does not look at their captive.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Dizzy and Blackjack quietly chat in a corner, much like Lance and Fitz do. Primrose, she is checking the ammunition for the RPG. Wassail whistles to get everyones attention. "Evans has agreed to pay a ransom for his daughter, however he isn't an idiot. He knows Taylor is coming for her. So he's offered to pay us to kill him and as many of his soldiers as we can. Given that that's the only way we're getting out of this country alive -- I accepted his proposal. We have a new client."

    Feavits is going to chew him out good and proper when they get back state side for this one. He let his big dumb heart get in the way of easy money.. again. The speech is right on cue to the sound of vehicles skidding to a stop outside of the compound. Over a megaphone a person calls to the group, "We don't want to hurt you, we just want the girl."

    "Yeah right," says Primrose as she loads a rocket in to the launcher, "classic open with negotiations while you send a hit squad in -- " she is cut off by Wassail, "through the escape tunnel that connects to the basement. Yes I know. I set up the claymores myse --"

    An explosion rattles the building. Definitely from below, as the escape tunnel unescapes on its invaders. Collapsed, no longer an option for team Iron Fortitude either. No more word from the megaphone. Dizzy walks over to Fitz and Lance, putting a clip in to his machine gun he says nodding to Primrose, "We did our homework, Taylor recently purchased a 2010s era gunship. Things are going to get dicey, but don't worry, I think you passed the interview stage. You're one of us now. Well, in my book anyway."

Lance Hunter has posed:
"I hear you mate," Hunter says, "Our old crew really knew how to turn a bad situation around," he says before listening to Wassail tell them about their new client, and hearing the vehicles roll up outside. "Guess we're out of time anyhow," he remarks to Fitz

The sounds of the claymores are a bit of good news, the gunship, less so, "What do they got it loaded with the 20mm Vulcan gun? Hellfire missiles?" he asks before nodding about having made it in. "Well then when we get out of this mess we'll have a few pints to celebrate, on me.,"

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Escape was never a likely option. The chances that the opposition didn't know about the tunnels was pretty negligible. The fortifications are almost forty years old afterall -- they're unlikely to hold many secrets from interested parties -- and while local warlords are not always known for an excessive amount of intelligence it doesn't seem like the sort of thing they would miss. Especially when one is gearing up to assault that sort of position.

"Well I guess no one's coming up that way," Fitz mutters. See? There's a bright side. They only have to worry about being badly outnumbered and having a gunship with an array of bunker busting weaponry likely loaded onboard. They've got this.

They have also apparently been accepted and while Fitz might happily trade away the acceptance of this mercenary group for a SHIELD assault team, it does give him some reassurance that they won't be shot in the back and offered up along with their payday as a peace offering to Taylor.

Look, he's really looking for the bright side in all of this.

"Lets hope for the Vulcan. These walls won't hold up against it for long, but they'll do better then against the missles," he says flatly. Every little bit of extra time is their ally in this.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    There's another explosion as C4 is set off on the front gate. A quick peek reveals they haven't done it right and the metal is warped and hanging from its remaining bits of hinges. The men are trying to hook it up to a winch to pull it out with one of their heavier vehicles.

    In the distance, the sound of a helicopter approaching can be heard. Primrose hefts up the rocket launcher and opens the door with a small staircase leading to the roof. She crouches down and aims down the sights.. and waits.

    "If they have hellfire, they'd be fools to use it. They seem to want the young lady alive," Dizzy says with a smirk, then heads over to a window and peers out, then aims down his scope and fires, dropping one of the guys trying to hook up the winching system. There's a tinktinktink of bullets firing back to the window, but mostly hitting the metal.

    Wassail nods his head, "Right. Clearly it's game time. Do what you think you do best. Don't die or you don't get paid," he says and smirks, then heads over to a corner office room.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Hoping the canon too but Diz, has a good point," Hunter allows, not that they wouldn't use the things if they thought they weren't going to win the fight, just a final fuck you as they flew away in defeat but there's no point on dwelling on that. Lance advances to one of the windows, "Might as well grab a spot and get shooting Pitch," he calls to Fitz. "Only way we see the other side of this."

Leopold Fitz has posed:
So far Fitz has been able to avoid actually killing anyone. At least so far as he is aware. He's laid down suppression fire, so it's possible. And he did wire up a few explosive devices. But he never saw any downed bodies in the rubble. But that is no longer an option, not today.

He's really missing the idea of ICER rounds right now. The men on the other side of the wall are all definitely on the bad side of the mortality spectrum. But it really doesn't make him any happier about the need to gun them down.

"Right," he says with a terse nod for Hunter. He knows he's right, but it doesn't make him any happier. Still, he swiftly gathers up his weapons and spare ammo clips, sliding them over towards one of the blocked windows overlooking that front gate, the small slit cut out of the metal sheeting giving him a narrow line of sight.

Peering through, he takes stock of the ruins of the gate, giving a small shake of his head. This is what you get when you let people who don't know what they're doing play with explosives. Taking a deep breath, he brings that assault rifle up to his shoulder before letting it out. His heart might be going a mile a minute, but he evens out his breathing, taking aim at the mercenaries trying to rip the tangled remains of the gate free.

Then he opens fire.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    The soldiers outside decide that using the winch is causing them too many heart aches as they become sitting ducks. With one dead already and more gunfire coming from the compound, they take cover behind their armoured cars. That's when one of them starts the engines and rams the mangled steel, busting it open.

    The sound of a grenade launcher can be heard from the room Wassail has occupied. It hits the car that rammed its way through, but doesn't seem to disable it. The enemy is moving up. The helicopter gets closer still and Primrose lines it up, then fires. A wild swerve by someone who isn't that experienced flying a gunship narrowing avoids catastrophe for them. The helicopter is forced to start an arc back around. Primrose swears, "Shit! I missed." She rushes back down the stairs and starts reloading the RPG.

    A street back a black SUV, shiny and chrome, sits at the intersection.. watching. There's a good bet Taylor is in there, but to get at him, the lines will need to be broken. Blackjack stands up, a rather tall man, and says with a bassy voice, "I'm going out there. I'm going for Taylor." His declaration is short-lived as the Vulcan cannon on the helicopter rips through that corner of the building and despite his body armour, he is peppered full of large holes.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter grimaces as Blackjack is cut down, damn that helicopter was a problem. "C'mon mate," he says clapping Fitz on the shoulder. "We're going to go earn our pay," then he's running off for those stairs, once he reaches the roof he shouts to Primrose, "Give it another go, we'll keep the pilot distracted," her says. "Pitch, you and me mate, aim at the cockpit and let em have it," he says lining up his shot, flicking to autofire and letting his gun rock and roll. He wasn't expecting it to get the pilot but nobody is at their best when bullets are slamming into your wind screen, and hopefully that will be enough for Primrose to do her thing.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
For his part Fitz certainly is not the most physically imposing of SHIELD agents. With the steady regimine of training he has undergone over the last year he doesn't look like a pasty lab geek anymore, but hand to hand combat will never exactly be his specialization. It is just not where his talents lie. Not that he doesn't still work at it.

Marksmanship on the other hand is something he is a little better at. Some of it comes from his interest in technology. Some of it from wanting to be fully familiar and able to demonstrate the new toys that he comes up with for the fulltime field agents. Some of it might have been honed playing video games. Don't laugh! Hand-eye coordination is important. He's a pretty damn good shot. And he'll need to be today.

"I'm definitely looking forward to the payday," he agrees, letting out another handful of bursts towards the gate and the armored humvee that comes barrelling on through, sending debris flying. Really, he's pretty sure they don't get to keep their payday. It's a safe bet that it is going straight into SHIELD coffers. Well, maybe Hunter gets to keep his. He probably has a better agent.

If the grenade launcher isn't going to slow down that armored car, his rifle isn't either and when Hunter tells him to follow him, he's not going to refuse. Even when he realizes just what the other man has in mind. "If I get torn in half by that cannon I want you to imagine me telling you this was a bad idea," he says. Because he won't actually do it. He's already decided that his best chance of getting out of this is doing what Hunter tells him too. But he is *this* close to complaining about this idea.

He most definitely does not look in the direction of Blackjack as they race up to the roof, squinting and flicking sunglasses down over his eyes as they burst out into the bright sunlight, almost immediately swinging that assault rifle around to track the helicopter's progress through the sky before opening up again, raining bullets up towards it -- hopefully before it can bring that cannon back into play.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    It's loud, it's hot, it's dirty. This is war. Private war. The kind of war that shouldn't exist. If Iron Fortitude had never come here, this conflict may never have escalated to this point. The point where a gunship is freely shooting at a compound in the middle of a small city.

    As the agents head to the roof to entice the gunship in to combat, they get their wish. It rounds around whipping its tail behind as its rotors slice through the air. The vulcan rips across the roof top toward Lance even as Lance fires back. The tip of the gunship raises up defensively and it turns and flies back a few blocks once more.

    The gunship ducks behind another building, but it's noisy and can't really hide. It emerges once more and the Vulcan starts to blast holes in the roof toward Fitz as both agents of SHIELD fire back bravely. There's a tap on Fitz's shoulder as Primrose knees and fires again. This time the rocket is true and explodes against the gunship.

    The helicopter wavers in the air a moment, flames leaping over the cabin. The guns have stopped and the pilot is freaking out a touch... but then it seems as if everything is alright - until one of the engine exhaust ports starts to spew fire and there is a momentary look of panic on the pilots face before the engine block of the helicopter explodes and the black metal sky monster dives down in to the small city below.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter keeps firing until the last seconds as the shots tear apart the roof on their way to him. He dives then flat on the roof, rolling then coming up on his knee to keep firing as the thing turns away and comes back to make that second pass.

Primrose's shot is met with a yell of triumph, even if its soon followed by a flash of concern from the agent as the helo crashes hard in the city below.

"Just got to turn these guys back and it'll be done," he says, though if he's assuring himself or Fitz it's hard to say.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
It's not like things haven't gotten even more hairy on certain SHIELD assignments. But there is a whole lot less moral ambiguity about what they are doing there, even when things go wrong or get violent. There is still a sense of purpose behind it all. A sense that is decidedly missing here. What they're doing might be important, but there is something ugly about it too.

When that Vulcan cannon turns their way Fitz does not go diving. They have some cover on the roof, the raised lip around the edge offering something to hide behind. But none of it will stand up all that well to the heavy rounds that are being pumped their way. So Fitz gives way, backing up, moving to the side and generally keeping a degree of mobility to try and avoid being turned into only so much pulped flesh.

It seems to work well enough, some of those bursts of gunfire finding their mark, peppering the gunship and when he feels the tap on his shoulder he almost immediately drops to one knee, keeping up the covering fire as Primrose sends another rocket flying towards their most pressing threat.

Adrenaline can be a wonderful thing and certainly Fitz feels a surge of it as the helicopter goes up. Those earlier concerns about not wanting to see anyone die have definitely faded into the background here and he flashes a tight smile towards Hunter before turning to dart towards the edge of the building. "Damn straight."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    With the death of Blackjack, Dizzy burst out their front door and start moving from cover to cover, taking the fight to them. In war, you have to battle for every inch of victory. The SHIELD approach is clandestine, because they learnt the best way to fight a war is never to a target, never be seen.

    Wassail enters the main room again and calls up to the roof, "Cover us." He heads out the door behind Dizzy The grenade launcher is used again, this time underneath the armoured SUV. It jumps as the explosion hits it and topples on to its side. This too becomes cover for Dizzy as he rambo's his way forward.

    Primrose heads back in to the main room and reloads a third time. Their captive is shaving in her seat where she's still tied up. Her eyes widen and her mouth parched from screams of terror.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"On it boss," Hunter shouts back to Wassail as he takes up a position next to Fitz and gets down to laying down some suppressing fire from above to cover Wassail's advance pausing to take aimed shots once the SUV is gone if any of Taylor's men scurry into view.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
War is hell, but it sure can turn around in a big hurry. Outnumbered and outgunned, it was looking grim there for a few. But with their air support gun and their armored vehicle flipped over on it's side the odds are definitely turning.

For his part Fitz doesn't mind that fact at all. And it's not like they haven't earned that shift in their favor. Of course, nothing says that things will keep going their way.

"Already one it," Fitz echoes Hunter, once more dropping down behind the rooftop edge, peering over it and resting the rifle there to stead his aim some. The focus is to keep the path cleared for Dizzy and Wassail as they move forward, intent on pushing their attackers back. Every time one of the hostile mercs show their face they get a burst of fire directed their way. Anyone between the wrecked humvee and the shattered gate had best keep their head down.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Primrose now reloaded makes her way back on to the roof. She spies the black SUV in the distance. The quick way to end this is to cut off the head of the snake. As usual. She kneels down and aims. But they're wise to the RPG on the roof trick now. A bullet whips through the air and catches her in the shoulder. The RPG drops and catches on a bit of exposed metal outside a metal slatted window the floor below.

    She grips at her shoulder as she lands on her back and cries out in pain. "Ah hell!," she says and with a grimace she says, "Get the RPG, shoot that SUV. We need to end this before that piece of shit calls in his reinforcements." With Fitz and Lance covering the court yard, the invading forces are retreating back outside the compound. It's standard operating procedure to get more guys and try again.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter makes a go for the RPG, yanking it up to his shoulder as his own weapon is left to hang from it's strap as he takes aim at the SUV hoping he remembered how to use one of these bloody things. Lining it up in the sights of the weapon he begins to squeeze the trigger when more bullets fly his way. He flinches, and the rocket goes wide blowing up against a building behind the SUV rather than hitting the vehicle itself.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
The thing about defending a position is that while it's nice to have some cover, it's nice to have some fortifications around you to bear the brunt of fire, it also ties you to one stop. The opposition knows exactly where to find you. Even when firing from behind cover a clever opponent is still going to mark your position. And while they have done a good job at eliminating the biggest threats of the gunship and armored car, they are still outnumbered. The local warlord appears to have plenty of men to throw at them it would seem.

With more and more fire directed towards their rooftop position it is increasingly difficult for Fitz to pop up and take a few shots, to provide suppressing fire. Something that becomes painfully clear as the return fire takes Primrose in the shoulder and sends the RPG sprawling across the roof. The crack of bullets tearing into the increasingly fragile concrete is all around them and before Fitz can lunge for the fallen weapon, Hunter is there. Because of course.

Unfortunately, while that SUV might need to dodge some falling debris from the building that explodes behind it, it's still intact. Crouched low, Fitz raises that rifle above his head, blindling spraying fire down towards the courtyard below. "How many more rounds do we got for that thing downstairs?" he shouts to the injured mercenary, beginning to crawl over towards that stair well.

Their position might be compromised, but it remains their best shot at bringing this to a quick close. What he wouldn't do for some of his drones right now.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    "Two!," Primrose responds. She peeks over the edge at where Lance shot and missed the SUV, "I mean one!" The gun fire from the court yard starts to slow down and the SUV that they took the long shot at backs up, starts to turn around and is making good to leave.

    Wassail's voice calls out, "Hunter, Pitch. You're with me. Mount up - we're going after that SUV." Dizzy makes his way back in to the building and up on to the rough. He helps Primrose up and walks her back inside. Wassail is waiting there, "Primrose and Dizzy are going to guard the prisoner." ..who looks beyond terrified, her cheeks soaked with tears.

    Wassail changes out plates in his armour and picks up another rifle already loaded, reloads his pistols and grabs the car keys, "Hop to it, the longer we take the further that bastard gets.." he growls and then peers at the unloaded RPG and the last grenade for it, "Load that up too." ..and he heads down to their garage where the Iron Fortitude SUVs are kept.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter curses as his shot goes astray but there's no time to really lament it, as Wassail calls for them to go after it. Hunter grabs the extra couple of rounds and pelts after him down the stairs heading to those waiting SUVs down below.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Well, this is less good.

On the one hand being on the offensive for a change is a bit of a relief after the last few minutes. Proactive is better then reactive much of the time. On the other hand? It sounds suspiciously that they're about to engage in a running firefight through an urban area in the middle of the day. That sounds like a recipe for civilian casualties no matter how careful they are.

But what other choice do they have really? Fitz does sneak a quick glance Hunter's way but it would seem that the other agent has come to much the same conclusion. So he hastens over to grab that last RPG, hefting it over his shoulder. "Got it," he says in that quick, terse fashion he's adopted for this mission, sneaking only a brief glance towards the terrified young woman they kidnapped.

Then he is on to the waiting SUVs, piling his gear and weapons into the back.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    The court yard is a gruesome sight. There are bodies strewn over the ground. Most of them aren't wearing any kind of armor and are carrying AK47s. This is the nature of war over here. Cheapest gear and cheapest labor force. Anyone is expendable except the guy on top. And the guy on top has money to spend on foreign military support.

    Wassail gets in the SUV and turns over the engine. There's an overturned armoured vehicle in the court yard which he has to dodge around, as well as the bodies and the mangled steel gateway. The visage as they push down the street is of an old compound now blasted with bullets. Several people shoot at the vehicle as it speeds past taking off after Taylor's car, but the Iron Fortitude SUV is bullet proofed enough that at most the bullets will leave marks.

    "Someone navigate. He'll be rushing to his own compound. We have to get to him before he gets inside. That place is another fortress and we've already fought in two of them today. We don't have the man power or the bullets to storm a third," he says as he guns it down the street. People on pushbikes are dodging out of the way and someone with a cart of vegetables waves an angry fist as it topples over from their sudden need to get out of the way of the speeding car.

    "We're barely 20 seconds behind him, make me up that time," Wassail demands though it seems his attitude is one of acceptance of these two recruits actually being people he can rely on. "And if we can get a good straight shot, hit it with the RPG."

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter hangs on tight as the SUV swerves around the overturned vehicle before he lets go and points up ahead. "Looks like there's a road running parallel the main road he's on, we take that we should be able to cut him off in about a mile, or if there's nothing between the two roads take a shot on the go." He glances around again trying to remember all the maps he'd studied of the area before the op. "Otherwise we're just running straight after the guy."

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Fitz has shown himself to be a pretty good shot. It is something that he has worked pretty hard at. It is unlikely that he'll ever be more then a passable hand to hand combatant, at least by SHIELD standards but he is pretty damn dependable with a gun in his hand. And knowing that he would be going undercover he made sure to get familiar with a lot of different weapons then the standard issue SHIELD side arm. Another helpful exercise to be sure.

What he didn't do? Was learn how to load or fire a freakin' rocket launcher. In the many, many scenarios he played through in his head never once did they involve him trying to blow up a fleeing vehicle with a rocket propelled grenade. Maybe that's a failure of imagination.

Fitz is pretty sure that means this mission has gone horribly sideways.

More or less throwing both himself and his gear into the backseat there is certainly no time to buckle up or really even settle himself. It is pretty much everything 'Pitch' can do to just stay more or less upright and not get thrown around as they swerve to dodge flaming wreckage. And even out on the crowded roads it is not much better. You try to load an RPG under those circumstances! It is a struggle and the science nerd's first effort is embarassing to put it mildly, the grenade actually slipping from his hands to land on the floor of the SUV. Hoping that his cheeks aren't burning, hoping that Wassail has his attention firmly fixed on the road ahead instead of the bumbling in the back seat, Fitz gropes around the floor of the vehicle, blindly trying to snag hold of that explosive device.

So of course it rolls under the seat.

"Give me just a second," he says, trying to sound gruff and not panicked as he blindly reaches around under the back seat of the SUV. He grabs... ew, definitely not a grenade... before finally finding the weapon that he needs, hastily pulling it out and finally -- FINALLY -- getting it in place. "Copy, if there's an opening I'll take the shot. Otherwise there should be a clear one in a mile," he says, reaching up to unfasten the custom hatch in the roof.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Wassail isn't driving easy, which does make Fitz's fumbling around for the deadly grenade slightly harder. He hits the main street and thankfully people are already in 'scatter' mode after Taylor's rapid exit. He has to dodge around carts and other cars and a few people who haven't gotten the memo yet.

    What he doesn't have time to do is check anything Lance has said or why Fitz is out of eye shot in the rear vision mirror any more. He veers off suddenly around the corner taking Lance's directions and floors the engine. It revs powerfully. It's already a hot day out and the gun fight only made it hotter.

    "If you miss, we're going with plan B -- ramming him. So.. for the sake of all our spines, don't miss," Wassail says with encouragement. In truth, he's harbouring a slight grudge. It's these two who encouraged him to change the mission parameters. May be he needs more of that honesty in his life. It's hard to tell right from wrong when you live this far out on the edge constantly.

Lance Hunter has posed:
There's not a ton to do for Hunter but hold on and hope Fitz can make his shot, he glances back at 'Pitch' as he gets ready, "Good luck mate," he says giving him a thumbs up. "Ramming? You sure about that? Got as good a chance of messing up our ride as theirs."

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Look, Fitz knows that the local warlord is pretty much the scum of the earth. He's the kind of person that the young agent joined SHIELD in the hopes of stopping. You know, by providing valuable and cleverly invented gear that he designed in a lab. Not by blowing him up with an RPG in the middle of a high speed chase.

His life, plain to say, has taken something of a detour from what he imagined.

The young scientist peers intently out the window as they streak down the parallel course to their target, eyes narrowed and peering intently for any opportunity. And thenm just as Hunter indicated the buildings between the two routes clear some, an opening provided. There are still obstacles interspersed along the route, it will take careful timing. But the opportunity is there.

So, no more excuses. The launcher is loaded, the opportunity is there. Fitz grits his teeth and standsm pushing open that hatch and trying to get to his feet, carefully lifting the weapon up ahead of him before he pokes his head and torso through as well.

It is... not pleasant, thrown around with every jolting bounce on the less then ideal roads and Fitz gets a somewhat incredulous look on his face. How is anyone supposed to actually do this? He tries to level the launcher, tries to line up the sight as he is jostled about. And for just a moment he has a clear shot. For just a moment he can practically see their target through the tinted windows of his vehicle. He steadies himself, finger on the trigger...

...and Fitz freezes. Shit. Wait... did he just hear Wassail say something about ramming the other vehicle? His eyes dart ahead to where the two roads merge. Well damn...

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Fitz gets a momentary appreciation for what level 6 and up agents are capable of as he tries to manage the complexities of shooting an antiquated weapon in the midst of the action. The other vehicle is right there. One of its passengers turns his head to look back at Fitz through tinted windows and his eyes go wide seeing the rocket launcher.

    Wassail barks up at Fitz as they pass the gap Lance had set up, "Pitch? Why didn't you take the shot. Goddamn it!" He swerves suddenly to avoid a man trying to pull his cart out of the way. They hit the cart and watermelons cover the wind screen. The wipers go to action.

    As they hit the intersection, the other car is weaving and turns wildly down a back street. Just barely they can see the occupants arguing, one of them waving his hands. It's easy to guess they are warning the driver about the RPG. The back street they've taken has barely enough room for the car between buildings flanking on either side.

    "Hunter! Figure out where they're going, give me another route, we have to end this here and now." At the very least, they can probably reach Taylor's compound before them now. If they wanted to play it risky.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter frowns pulling out a proper map from his pocket looking for a route. "Okay there's a field over there," he says looking up from the map to crane his neck, "It looks clear enough, we cut through there we'll get to the road ahead of them, block them off, gives Pitch a clear shot with them coming towards us," which is a million times eaiser than aiming at a fleeing target. "Sound good?" he asks Wassail as he bunches down the map between his knees.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Honestly, Fitz is tempted to blame Wassail's driving, but under the circumstances that's probably not the most diplomatic thing that he could do. Nor entirely accurate. This would probably be difficult on roads in peek repair. Suffice to say that none of the roads around here are anywhere close to that state. It looks like some of the pot holes have pot holes. Not that he's making excuses or anything.

Oh, so now they're cutting through a field? This is gonna get bumpy. Grimacing once more, Fitz braces the weapon with one hand, the other pressed hard against the rim of the hatch to try and minimize just how hard he is thrown about. And it helps, though he has no idea how anyone would get off a shot under the circumstances. But he doesn't need to. Not yet. Just as Hunter predicts, they are quickly in place, their vehicle on the other road, blocking off the fleeing warlord's escape. And lining up the perfect shot.

They're coming straight at him. Apparently whatever argument is going on in the rapidly approaching vehicle it has no come to a conclusion. Good for Fitz's side. Bad for the opposition. Reluctant though he might be to blow anyone up it's now or never. A young woman's life might be at stake. Hell, his own life might be at stake.

So Fitz does what he has to.

When he brings the grenade launcher up this time there is no hesitation. It is brought to bear on the rapidly approaching car, the shot lined up and this time? This time Fitz doesn't hesitate. The trigger is pulled, the grenade races out, flying true towards the approaching vehicle. And bullseye, it lodges right there in the grill, just off center. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Where's the explosion? Why isn't there an explosion? There was supposed to be an explosion right?

"It's a dud!" Fitz screams. It's not his fault. It can't possibly be his fault, right? Technology is supposed to be his friend. At this point he's kinda tempted to just hurl the launcher and see if maybe he'll have more luck.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Wassail's gruff voice lets out a concerned "Shit!" .. unexploded armed ordinance is everyones worst nightmare. He watches with a dark fascination at just how this might play out. He's not the only one here who can have bad ideas or bad luck, but they have literally just shot an RPG at the guys car. Taylor might be very lucky, Wassail is a good shot.

    He puts on the parking break and opens up the driver door, aims down the scope and starts to shoot at the unexploded grenade. Little flashes of light where bullets hit the chrome and steel so close, one shot.. two.. three.. then the fourth and...

    Taylor's car suddenly explodes. It rolls to a stop, flames everywhere, the windscreen shattered in. The doors open and two people stumble out, on fire, and stumble to the ground where they stop moving. "Pitch, flank left. Hunter, flank right," Wassail says and slowly starts to advance on them down the middle, his rifle up in case someone is still alive.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Bloody hell," Lance curses as the grenade doesn't go off, he braces for impact but Wassail has other plans and blows the grenade! "Nice one!" he shouts to the man before he kicks open his own door, and sweeps to the right, keeping his weapon trained on the burning car but making sure to keep his distance in case the bloody thing explodes. If someone moves in that thing though, it's going to be a very bad day for them.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
It's not that Fitz has no faith in Wassail's marksmanship. But sitting around in a car with another car bearing down on them with no signs of stopping just seems like a bad idea. Add to the fact that said approaching car has an unexploded explosive device lodged in it's front grill? Yeah Fitz is already well on his way to abandonning the car before the head of this little outfit proves up to the challenge, blowing out the front of Taylor's vehicle.

The door on the far side of the SUV is already open and the SHIELD scientist is half-way out the door when the explosition suddenly sounds behind him. Glancing back incredulously as the speeding vehicle slows and finally stops well shy of them, he reaches back into the car and grabs his rifle before tersely nodding at the instructions.

The weapon comes up, braced against Fitz's shoulder and he circles around to the left as instructed, wincing a little as the flaming man emerges from the vehicle before falling, unmoving to the ground. Not a good way to go.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Wassail kicks the body of the other flaming body, then turns him over. The other half of his face is still good. He shoulders his rifle, takes out his phone and pistol. Hitting record he holds out the phone and then shoots the dead man in the head. It was Taylor.

    In the distance there are people from the town watching, but no one dares come closer to the foreign soldiers or the now dead warlord who held an iron grip on this town. Wassail looks up and peers around. Their position seems secure. He calls up Dizzy and Primrose, "We got him. Let him know he can have his daughter back. Set the exchange for tomorrow."

    Wiping his brow, he puts his phone away and looks back to Hunter and Pitch. "You two," he says and gathers up with them, "Good work. We'll exchange the daughter tomorrow and be done with this place." He lifts his chin to their SUV, "Mount up, we're heading back to the compound. No one in this town will dare touch us for a while."

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter nods when they've confirmed the rival warlord is dead. "Bit of wanker anyhow," he reasons though is that for Fitz's sake or his own? Who can tell. At Wassail's order he gets into the SUV safteying his weapon. "Good enough to be signed on?" he asks Wassail. Sure others had said as much but he wanted to hear it from the man himself. As for the woman, the less said about her the better.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
And so ends the story of Warlord Taylor. Fitz is fairly certain there won't be a lot of tears over his end, no matter how painful it might have been. And while he might have preferred to see the man captured, forced to stand trial for his crimes he gets the feeling that things rarely turn out that clean when agents venture into the more shadowy world of undercover ops. Something he will definitely have to keep in mind the next time he is asked to go into the field for that sort of thing.

The round to the head seems a little excessive, but Fitz imagines that no one wants any surprising returns. And he is well aware that if the shoes were on the other feet they would be getting a whole lot worse. Their heads on pikes might be the mildest they could expect. "You said it," 'Pitch' says quietly to Hunter's remark before he turns back towards the car. "I'm definitely ready to get out of here."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Wassail shuts the driver side door and unparks the car. He laughs, "Are you kidding? you earned your pay, that's what we expect from Iron Fortitude soldiers. I'll be putting in a good word to the boss. You'll meet him at the onboarding at HQ. You have probably seen him on TV. Senator Feavits. Tough guy, ex-spec ops himself. Started Iron Fortitude after he left the service."

    It's clear Wassail admires the boss as he turns the car around and drives back in to the city at a much slower pace. No one needs to jump out of the way this time.