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xp_logsThe assault continues, leading to a confrontation with Sugar Man and Mary.
While it wasn't easy to leave behind teammates who were engaged with security without helping, it was clear that they would have a very short period in which they could actually corner Sugar Man before he escaped. Kevin's briefing had been clear that Sugar Man was too dangerous to be allowed to disappear yet again just to set up shop somewhere else.
"We don't have much time," Gabriel said. This was, of course, an absurd statement for him to be making, since compared to Emma and Natasha, time was the only real advantage that Gabriel had. "So, I guess, shock and awe? Maybe I can run ahead and catch him off guard. I dunno, I'm not the expert here, so I'm open to suggestions so if you want to pull from your bag of spy tricks or mind games."
Emma shook her head, frustration written on her face. “I’m trying,” she said. “But I’m not getting anything. There’s no there there. He’s either got shields I can’t even feel or he’s naturally immune to telepathy. I’m going to have to go heavy hitter here, not scalpel.” Her skin shifted, flickered into diamond mode.
"It sounds like shock and awe is going to be our best bet. I might be to do some damage with my venom once we're in close enough range, but I'll need you two to distract him so I can load him up." Natasha wasn't sure he wouldn't also be able to defeat that, but it was worth a shot. It wasn't like she was on many people's radars as a mutant. "And of course, we've got our usual suspects to help us out." She patted the sub-machine gun and rocket launcher strapped to her back. "Though, I'm hoping there won't be too many other surprises in whatever room we find him in."
"Why do you all talk so much? I've had assassins from twenty different groups and you've already outtalked them all." The man appeared from the back of the room, looking like a ruddy haired doctor in a coat; as threatening as a bad enema. He gestured with his chin. "I can do something with her." Indicating Emma. "The rest of you... sadly, I think the trash for you."
“You will not doing anything with me,” said Emma, through gritted teeth. “I’ve had enough of that kind of thing,” she said and stalked forward, drawing all of the man’s attention to her, away from the other two.
Natasha wasn't inclined to find out what this asshole might have planned for her and Gabriel. She didn't even want to hear him speak. It'd be the same, old, tired drivel. She'd automatically angled out from Emma and Gabriel when Sugar Man had entered the room to ensure she had a clear shot. While he was distracted by Emma, she fired several venom laced darts from the experimental dart shooter she'd packed for the mission. She also held out some extra darts for Gabriel to jab into the guy if he got close enough.
The doctor shrugged off his white coat and two new arms unfolded from his back. "I don't think your countermeasures are for me. They never have been."
Gabriel had scooped up Natasha's darts, palming them quickly as he eyed Sugar Man. He'd just been thinking that this would look relatively easy and been preparing to make his approach when the other arms surfaced, startling him. He staggered back a few paces and reconsidered how he'd make his approach. His best shot, he figured, was to find an opening and barrel into the man. And so he darted from one side of Emma to the other, looking for an opportunity.
Emma raised a diamond eyebrow at Sugar Man’s newly revealed appendages. It raised even further as a his mouth opened and a tongue lashed outwards, nearly grazing her as she jumped backwards. “Oh darling,” she said. “Four hands and a tongue like that. Why are you wasting your talents on villainy? There’s people at the Hellfire Club who’d pay a fortune for an hour in your company.” The tongue lashed out again and this time Emma wasn’t quite as fast, and the material of her trousers suddenly split open over his thigh. “Oh,” she nearly hummed. “If you had any idea how much you could charge…”
"The Hellfire Club already knows my prices, Ms Frost. At least Shaw does." He hissed at her, a bright light behind his eyes. He moved quickly, almost too quickly, nearly trapping Widow in a corner. She was just able to duck under the arcs of his claws while the whiplash tongue forced back both Gabe and Emma. "I wonder what he'd pay for a piece of you?"
“Oh darling, Shaw knows he couldn't possibly afford a piece of me,” purred Emma. “Shaw’s not what I’d call smart, but he’s not that stupid.” She stomped down with her boot heel, nearly catching the razor sharp tongue but not quite.
The additional arms were unexpected and not ideal. It made many things more difficult. Natasha kept eying the tentacles to see if there was a pattern to their movements and there wasn't. Simple weaving movements back and forth with the added bonus of a long rough looking tongue darting out. As she ducked under his taloned claws, Natasha tossed several stingers at his back and lower legs. Her lips tilted slightly upwards as they sizzled upon contact and allowed her the time to distance herself from Sugar Man. She spun immediately around and dipped her hand into another pouch to start throwing ninja stars coated in her venom.
"I'm willing to bet you think the arrogance is part of your charm. Always interesting, the rich. So assured by their wealth that they are better than others. But once you have them on the table and rummage around a bit..." A surprise blow winded Natasha, sending her staggering back. "There's nothing special inside. Perhaps I'll just swap some organs around and send you back into the world. A patchwork team, united by more than just loyalty and team building exercises."
Whether out of strategic planning or mild fear, Gabriel had hung back some, figuring it best to keep his powers to himself while he got the sense of Sugar Man's abilities. The other arms threw him for a loop and led him to conclude that getting near the man, if he managed it, might still be unwise. Especially if the man could disarm Natasha, of all people.
So, recalibrate, he thought to himself, as he used his powers to juice his arm and launch a dart at Sugar Man. Recalibrate, recalibrate, recalibrate.
Emma took the opportunity of Sugar Man’s sudden inattention to drop her diamond form for a second. ~How much speed can you get up in here?~ she sent to Gabe, then added a picture of her diamond form cannoning into Sugar Man at speed.
Oh, she was smart. Gabriel, for a fleeting second, wished he were that smart. ~Got it.~, he transmitted back, trying to keep his face still. ~Played baseball in high school, but I don't have the greatest aim. Tell Nat to try to keep out of the way.~
Then, without his powers, since he still wasn't ready to signal them, Gabriel fled the battle scene and ran back the way they came.
~Be ready to distract him,~ Emma sent to Nat and then she flashed back to diamond mode as soon as she’d received Gabe’s confirmation. She had to give enough time for Gabe to run back, though she assumed it wasn’t going to take him very long to run back. She just hoped she was going to be able to hold the right shape once Gabe hit her, though even just running into Sugar Man with that much velocity in her diamond form should cause a decent amount of damage.
Natasha would have bruises to show for this when it was all said and done. Not the worst she'd ever experienced, but they still stung as she danced around to avoid Sugar Man's blows. She nodded absently in response to Emma's words in her mind. No more stars, no more darts, so she fired her venom stingers with Emma and Gabe safely out of the way behind her. Then swung the sub-machine gun off her back, unleashing an immediate hail of bullets in Sugar Man's direction and looking for a moment to use the rocket launcher. Someone needed to design a one handed one because right now it was very inconvenient.
After moving a steady distance away from the group, Gabriel clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, because the drama of the moment seemed to call for it, even if there was nobody there to witness them. Truthfully, this whole thing was a physics problem that he was poorly suited to figure out — if a toned, dashing homosexual needed to launch an icy diamond diva into a souped up baddie, how much did he need to dilate time, and how quickly did he need to run?
No matter, he figured as he took his first stride, letting the euphoria of time distortion take over as he broke into his fastest sprint. As he was halfway to Emma, he let out a guttural grunt, figuring his relative velocity might make it sound like more of a shrill whistle. Either way, he figured she'd get the message.
The noise from behind Emma was almost, but not quite, some kind of birdlike chirp, but whatever it was, it was obviously her signal. She leapt up then, kicking her legs in front of her in some kind of bizarre wrestling style move that she was fairly certain none of her close combat tutors would approve of, and then a small train ran into her shoulders, propelling her forward with a speed that made an entirely unladylike, “Fuck!” come out of her mouth.
And then heeled boots, diamond-hard, propelled at speed, went straight into the side of the Sugar Man’s skull. The noise that made wasn’t a chirp at all. More a kind of moist squelch.
The one thing Emma hadn’t necessarily figured on was the conservation of momentum as her body pivoted on the point of her heels and up and over what remained of the Sugar Man’s skull, and she cartwheeled helplessly into the wall, coming to a juddering stop against it.
Everything seemed to slow down as a glittering Emma was hurled down the hallway by the indistinct blur that Natasha had to assume was Gabriel. She mostly tried to stay out of the way especially factoring in what a high speed impact with a diamond would likely do to the human body. She was about to find out anyway.
The splatter was glorious. She also appreciated the immediate stoppage of attacks coming from Sugar Man. With all the surprsies he'd thrown, Natasha had half expected him to avoid this one too. But no, thankfully, his body dropped to the ground as Emma splatted into the wall behind him. Good thing diamonds were forever, though she expected Emma's brains to be rattled around quite a bit.
***
Another morgue. This was starting to become a bad habit. Kevin levered his legs off the gurney to the floor, working the zipper on the bag down so he could step out of it. He was cold, naked, and sported some spectacular bullet wounds that took a minute to clean up and disappear. He could hear the sounds of conflict through the halls. Obviously his plan to bring in the team had worked. Now it was up for him to do his last part. There wasn't anything useful for his purposes in the small room, but a few steps took him across the hall and into an empty operating theatre. He pulled on a set of scrubs. Despite his abilities as a shapeshifter, decades of experience made him more comfortable clothed rather than naked. A couple of scalpels hidden hilt down in his palm were the only real weapons he could find.
With X-Force, it paid to follow the sounds of violence. He went down the hall quietly, trying to stay to one side and be forgettable. One of Sugar-Man's guards retreated down the hall, turning a corner with his back to Kevin as he fired several rounds. He died quickly and silently. Sydney gave a brief longing look at the boots and the bullet-proof vest the corpses was wearing, but was forced to settle with just the radio, the automatic rifle and the one belt of magazine pouches he could sling before moving forward, pushing into an open area which was engulfed in a chaotic morass of sudden death.
Once upon a time it looked as if it had been used to hold some sort of testing devices and surplus equipment; now it hung with the stench of perforated bowels and last gasps. The tile was scattered with sample tubes and sleek, sterile instruments. Half the fluorescent lights had been shattered by stray bullets, and those that remained flickered weakly.
There were bodies. They wore the state-of-the-art gear of the Sugarman's security detail and that protection had helped them not at all. Directly next to Kevin's foot was a disembodied arm. It had been pulled from the joint like a chicken wing, fingers still curled around a walkie-talkie.
"Oh, Agent Sydney. I didn't think I'd be seeing you again."
A shadow uncoiled from behind an overturned refrigeration unit. It was Mary, crouched in readiness to see who had just arrived. She sounded mildly -- perhaps even pleasantly -- surprised to see him. The woman smiled and swiped the hair from her eyes, smearing blood like a wound. "Looks like I'm not the only one making a break for it."
"That's my team coming to get us. And put Sugar-Man in the ground." He looked around at the carnage, pushing back the shock. It looked like Mary. It talked with Mary's voice. But the movements, tonel inflictions, even just the basic body language was a stranger. Even her more naive persona still had the seeds of the woman he knew. This one had none of that.
Even with all of that, he had to try. "It's not too late, Mary. Whatever Sugar Man did, good or bad, we can help fix the rest. You could... have a fresh start."
The woman who was not Mary laughed and clasped her hands behind her back. "This is my fresh start," she said, casually stepping over a body. "Don't worry about playing knight in shining armor -- doesn't seem like your style. Anyway, the Sugar Man held up his end of the bargain, I'm just not going to hang around for the double-cross. I've never been better." She gave him a pleasant smile that exposed bloody teeth. "Wanna see?"
She dropped low and spun, and he could see the knives in her hands: big, jagged blades a certain kind of military contractor carried for the look. They'd almost certainly never seen use before Mary had gotten her hands on them. She'd never bothered with anything like that when he'd worked with her. Now she moved like they were extensions of her arm, driving them low in an attempt to hook Kevin around the achilles tendon.
The one thing this Mary didn't know was his abilities. Kevin stood firm, accepting what would normally be a crippling injury in return for flooding his system with endorphins and catching Mary with a blow to the jaw that hit like a man three times his size. He staggered away, favouring his good leg as his body fought to repair the injured one even as Mary recovered. "No knights. No redemption, Mary. Just-" A blade missed his face by inches as he backpedaled and went over the corpse of security guard, sprawling badly.
Mary spat blood and tsked. "You're taking this so seriously," she remarked, her words thick around her swelling lip. One of the knives in her hand began to spin as she circled him lazily, a lion stalking a wounded gazelle. "You seem to think you have some sort of gleaming golden prize to offer me, as if I haven't spent our whole life carving out every comfort and victory I ever earned for myself. Hell, I'm sure you haven't even thought of Mary Walker in years. Other people are just bit-characters to you. They exist for you to act on or against, and once you leave the stage..." She touched the knife to her lips like a finger. "Poof, all gone."
"Maybe I was. And that means I deserve whatever it is you want to do to me... but Mary doesn't." Kevin didn't bother to watch the knives. It was something Mary had taught him, chiding him for relying too much on being on the right end of a scope on an enemy. Fools watch the knife. The eyes tell you where the strike is coming from. "You keep that decision from her, you're treating her no better than I did."
She swiped at his face, but Kevin was prepared for the feint and so avoided the real attack: the other blade driving for his gut. He caught her wrist and deftly twisted her arm behind her back in what should have been a painful joint-lock. The woman only laughed.
"What makes you think this isn't her decision?" Mary leaned into him, the back of her head touching his chest. She craned her head around to gaze up at him with an expression that was almost fond. "Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With private hells and shotgun shells, and bloated corpses all in a row."
The knife sank into the meat of his thigh, but he had her off balance and the strike was clumsy. It missed his femoral artery by a mile, but the shock was to create enough of an opening for Mary to break free. She pivoted away, eyes shining with excitement.
"I do think she'd agree you deserve whatever we do to you, though," she said, casually tossing the remaining knife back into her dominant hand. "And I wonder . . . if you can walk off a bullet to the heart, what else can you survive? Let's find out."
Kevin pulled the knife from his leg, already routing blood away from the wound. "No, you're not her. At least not really her."
He limped back, but that was a ruse. Mary was far better than him in hand to hand combat, but he was bloody tough to kill now and was relying on it. "I'm sorry Mary. I really am. I thought I was helping you and I fucked it all up. And if you want to come after me alone, I deserve it. But my people are here now, and I'm not going to give you a shot at them. So it's not about me now." He dropped the knife. "Run. Now. Because they'll bury you if they have to and I don't want that."
A retort formed on her lips, but in that instant they heard a handful of rapid gunshots from the hall. Company was on its way, and it was close.
He could see the calculations happening behind her eyes. The whirling joy of carnage was gone, revealing its core: emptiness filled only by what could be taken from those around it. For a heartbeat need warred with necessity, then surrendered.
"As much as I'd like to see them try, you're right. It's not about you. Not anymore." The woman sketched a mock-salute with the bloodied knife, grinning. "See you around, Agent Sydney," said Mary, and stepped back into the shadows.
While it wasn't easy to leave behind teammates who were engaged with security without helping, it was clear that they would have a very short period in which they could actually corner Sugar Man before he escaped. Kevin's briefing had been clear that Sugar Man was too dangerous to be allowed to disappear yet again just to set up shop somewhere else.
"We don't have much time," Gabriel said. This was, of course, an absurd statement for him to be making, since compared to Emma and Natasha, time was the only real advantage that Gabriel had. "So, I guess, shock and awe? Maybe I can run ahead and catch him off guard. I dunno, I'm not the expert here, so I'm open to suggestions so if you want to pull from your bag of spy tricks or mind games."
Emma shook her head, frustration written on her face. “I’m trying,” she said. “But I’m not getting anything. There’s no there there. He’s either got shields I can’t even feel or he’s naturally immune to telepathy. I’m going to have to go heavy hitter here, not scalpel.” Her skin shifted, flickered into diamond mode.
"It sounds like shock and awe is going to be our best bet. I might be to do some damage with my venom once we're in close enough range, but I'll need you two to distract him so I can load him up." Natasha wasn't sure he wouldn't also be able to defeat that, but it was worth a shot. It wasn't like she was on many people's radars as a mutant. "And of course, we've got our usual suspects to help us out." She patted the sub-machine gun and rocket launcher strapped to her back. "Though, I'm hoping there won't be too many other surprises in whatever room we find him in."
"Why do you all talk so much? I've had assassins from twenty different groups and you've already outtalked them all." The man appeared from the back of the room, looking like a ruddy haired doctor in a coat; as threatening as a bad enema. He gestured with his chin. "I can do something with her." Indicating Emma. "The rest of you... sadly, I think the trash for you."
“You will not doing anything with me,” said Emma, through gritted teeth. “I’ve had enough of that kind of thing,” she said and stalked forward, drawing all of the man’s attention to her, away from the other two.
Natasha wasn't inclined to find out what this asshole might have planned for her and Gabriel. She didn't even want to hear him speak. It'd be the same, old, tired drivel. She'd automatically angled out from Emma and Gabriel when Sugar Man had entered the room to ensure she had a clear shot. While he was distracted by Emma, she fired several venom laced darts from the experimental dart shooter she'd packed for the mission. She also held out some extra darts for Gabriel to jab into the guy if he got close enough.
The doctor shrugged off his white coat and two new arms unfolded from his back. "I don't think your countermeasures are for me. They never have been."
Gabriel had scooped up Natasha's darts, palming them quickly as he eyed Sugar Man. He'd just been thinking that this would look relatively easy and been preparing to make his approach when the other arms surfaced, startling him. He staggered back a few paces and reconsidered how he'd make his approach. His best shot, he figured, was to find an opening and barrel into the man. And so he darted from one side of Emma to the other, looking for an opportunity.
Emma raised a diamond eyebrow at Sugar Man’s newly revealed appendages. It raised even further as a his mouth opened and a tongue lashed outwards, nearly grazing her as she jumped backwards. “Oh darling,” she said. “Four hands and a tongue like that. Why are you wasting your talents on villainy? There’s people at the Hellfire Club who’d pay a fortune for an hour in your company.” The tongue lashed out again and this time Emma wasn’t quite as fast, and the material of her trousers suddenly split open over his thigh. “Oh,” she nearly hummed. “If you had any idea how much you could charge…”
"The Hellfire Club already knows my prices, Ms Frost. At least Shaw does." He hissed at her, a bright light behind his eyes. He moved quickly, almost too quickly, nearly trapping Widow in a corner. She was just able to duck under the arcs of his claws while the whiplash tongue forced back both Gabe and Emma. "I wonder what he'd pay for a piece of you?"
“Oh darling, Shaw knows he couldn't possibly afford a piece of me,” purred Emma. “Shaw’s not what I’d call smart, but he’s not that stupid.” She stomped down with her boot heel, nearly catching the razor sharp tongue but not quite.
The additional arms were unexpected and not ideal. It made many things more difficult. Natasha kept eying the tentacles to see if there was a pattern to their movements and there wasn't. Simple weaving movements back and forth with the added bonus of a long rough looking tongue darting out. As she ducked under his taloned claws, Natasha tossed several stingers at his back and lower legs. Her lips tilted slightly upwards as they sizzled upon contact and allowed her the time to distance herself from Sugar Man. She spun immediately around and dipped her hand into another pouch to start throwing ninja stars coated in her venom.
"I'm willing to bet you think the arrogance is part of your charm. Always interesting, the rich. So assured by their wealth that they are better than others. But once you have them on the table and rummage around a bit..." A surprise blow winded Natasha, sending her staggering back. "There's nothing special inside. Perhaps I'll just swap some organs around and send you back into the world. A patchwork team, united by more than just loyalty and team building exercises."
Whether out of strategic planning or mild fear, Gabriel had hung back some, figuring it best to keep his powers to himself while he got the sense of Sugar Man's abilities. The other arms threw him for a loop and led him to conclude that getting near the man, if he managed it, might still be unwise. Especially if the man could disarm Natasha, of all people.
So, recalibrate, he thought to himself, as he used his powers to juice his arm and launch a dart at Sugar Man. Recalibrate, recalibrate, recalibrate.
Emma took the opportunity of Sugar Man’s sudden inattention to drop her diamond form for a second. ~How much speed can you get up in here?~ she sent to Gabe, then added a picture of her diamond form cannoning into Sugar Man at speed.
Oh, she was smart. Gabriel, for a fleeting second, wished he were that smart. ~Got it.~, he transmitted back, trying to keep his face still. ~Played baseball in high school, but I don't have the greatest aim. Tell Nat to try to keep out of the way.~
Then, without his powers, since he still wasn't ready to signal them, Gabriel fled the battle scene and ran back the way they came.
~Be ready to distract him,~ Emma sent to Nat and then she flashed back to diamond mode as soon as she’d received Gabe’s confirmation. She had to give enough time for Gabe to run back, though she assumed it wasn’t going to take him very long to run back. She just hoped she was going to be able to hold the right shape once Gabe hit her, though even just running into Sugar Man with that much velocity in her diamond form should cause a decent amount of damage.
Natasha would have bruises to show for this when it was all said and done. Not the worst she'd ever experienced, but they still stung as she danced around to avoid Sugar Man's blows. She nodded absently in response to Emma's words in her mind. No more stars, no more darts, so she fired her venom stingers with Emma and Gabe safely out of the way behind her. Then swung the sub-machine gun off her back, unleashing an immediate hail of bullets in Sugar Man's direction and looking for a moment to use the rocket launcher. Someone needed to design a one handed one because right now it was very inconvenient.
After moving a steady distance away from the group, Gabriel clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, because the drama of the moment seemed to call for it, even if there was nobody there to witness them. Truthfully, this whole thing was a physics problem that he was poorly suited to figure out — if a toned, dashing homosexual needed to launch an icy diamond diva into a souped up baddie, how much did he need to dilate time, and how quickly did he need to run?
No matter, he figured as he took his first stride, letting the euphoria of time distortion take over as he broke into his fastest sprint. As he was halfway to Emma, he let out a guttural grunt, figuring his relative velocity might make it sound like more of a shrill whistle. Either way, he figured she'd get the message.
The noise from behind Emma was almost, but not quite, some kind of birdlike chirp, but whatever it was, it was obviously her signal. She leapt up then, kicking her legs in front of her in some kind of bizarre wrestling style move that she was fairly certain none of her close combat tutors would approve of, and then a small train ran into her shoulders, propelling her forward with a speed that made an entirely unladylike, “Fuck!” come out of her mouth.
And then heeled boots, diamond-hard, propelled at speed, went straight into the side of the Sugar Man’s skull. The noise that made wasn’t a chirp at all. More a kind of moist squelch.
The one thing Emma hadn’t necessarily figured on was the conservation of momentum as her body pivoted on the point of her heels and up and over what remained of the Sugar Man’s skull, and she cartwheeled helplessly into the wall, coming to a juddering stop against it.
Everything seemed to slow down as a glittering Emma was hurled down the hallway by the indistinct blur that Natasha had to assume was Gabriel. She mostly tried to stay out of the way especially factoring in what a high speed impact with a diamond would likely do to the human body. She was about to find out anyway.
The splatter was glorious. She also appreciated the immediate stoppage of attacks coming from Sugar Man. With all the surprsies he'd thrown, Natasha had half expected him to avoid this one too. But no, thankfully, his body dropped to the ground as Emma splatted into the wall behind him. Good thing diamonds were forever, though she expected Emma's brains to be rattled around quite a bit.
***
Another morgue. This was starting to become a bad habit. Kevin levered his legs off the gurney to the floor, working the zipper on the bag down so he could step out of it. He was cold, naked, and sported some spectacular bullet wounds that took a minute to clean up and disappear. He could hear the sounds of conflict through the halls. Obviously his plan to bring in the team had worked. Now it was up for him to do his last part. There wasn't anything useful for his purposes in the small room, but a few steps took him across the hall and into an empty operating theatre. He pulled on a set of scrubs. Despite his abilities as a shapeshifter, decades of experience made him more comfortable clothed rather than naked. A couple of scalpels hidden hilt down in his palm were the only real weapons he could find.
With X-Force, it paid to follow the sounds of violence. He went down the hall quietly, trying to stay to one side and be forgettable. One of Sugar-Man's guards retreated down the hall, turning a corner with his back to Kevin as he fired several rounds. He died quickly and silently. Sydney gave a brief longing look at the boots and the bullet-proof vest the corpses was wearing, but was forced to settle with just the radio, the automatic rifle and the one belt of magazine pouches he could sling before moving forward, pushing into an open area which was engulfed in a chaotic morass of sudden death.
Once upon a time it looked as if it had been used to hold some sort of testing devices and surplus equipment; now it hung with the stench of perforated bowels and last gasps. The tile was scattered with sample tubes and sleek, sterile instruments. Half the fluorescent lights had been shattered by stray bullets, and those that remained flickered weakly.
There were bodies. They wore the state-of-the-art gear of the Sugarman's security detail and that protection had helped them not at all. Directly next to Kevin's foot was a disembodied arm. It had been pulled from the joint like a chicken wing, fingers still curled around a walkie-talkie.
"Oh, Agent Sydney. I didn't think I'd be seeing you again."
A shadow uncoiled from behind an overturned refrigeration unit. It was Mary, crouched in readiness to see who had just arrived. She sounded mildly -- perhaps even pleasantly -- surprised to see him. The woman smiled and swiped the hair from her eyes, smearing blood like a wound. "Looks like I'm not the only one making a break for it."
"That's my team coming to get us. And put Sugar-Man in the ground." He looked around at the carnage, pushing back the shock. It looked like Mary. It talked with Mary's voice. But the movements, tonel inflictions, even just the basic body language was a stranger. Even her more naive persona still had the seeds of the woman he knew. This one had none of that.
Even with all of that, he had to try. "It's not too late, Mary. Whatever Sugar Man did, good or bad, we can help fix the rest. You could... have a fresh start."
The woman who was not Mary laughed and clasped her hands behind her back. "This is my fresh start," she said, casually stepping over a body. "Don't worry about playing knight in shining armor -- doesn't seem like your style. Anyway, the Sugar Man held up his end of the bargain, I'm just not going to hang around for the double-cross. I've never been better." She gave him a pleasant smile that exposed bloody teeth. "Wanna see?"
She dropped low and spun, and he could see the knives in her hands: big, jagged blades a certain kind of military contractor carried for the look. They'd almost certainly never seen use before Mary had gotten her hands on them. She'd never bothered with anything like that when he'd worked with her. Now she moved like they were extensions of her arm, driving them low in an attempt to hook Kevin around the achilles tendon.
The one thing this Mary didn't know was his abilities. Kevin stood firm, accepting what would normally be a crippling injury in return for flooding his system with endorphins and catching Mary with a blow to the jaw that hit like a man three times his size. He staggered away, favouring his good leg as his body fought to repair the injured one even as Mary recovered. "No knights. No redemption, Mary. Just-" A blade missed his face by inches as he backpedaled and went over the corpse of security guard, sprawling badly.
Mary spat blood and tsked. "You're taking this so seriously," she remarked, her words thick around her swelling lip. One of the knives in her hand began to spin as she circled him lazily, a lion stalking a wounded gazelle. "You seem to think you have some sort of gleaming golden prize to offer me, as if I haven't spent our whole life carving out every comfort and victory I ever earned for myself. Hell, I'm sure you haven't even thought of Mary Walker in years. Other people are just bit-characters to you. They exist for you to act on or against, and once you leave the stage..." She touched the knife to her lips like a finger. "Poof, all gone."
"Maybe I was. And that means I deserve whatever it is you want to do to me... but Mary doesn't." Kevin didn't bother to watch the knives. It was something Mary had taught him, chiding him for relying too much on being on the right end of a scope on an enemy. Fools watch the knife. The eyes tell you where the strike is coming from. "You keep that decision from her, you're treating her no better than I did."
She swiped at his face, but Kevin was prepared for the feint and so avoided the real attack: the other blade driving for his gut. He caught her wrist and deftly twisted her arm behind her back in what should have been a painful joint-lock. The woman only laughed.
"What makes you think this isn't her decision?" Mary leaned into him, the back of her head touching his chest. She craned her head around to gaze up at him with an expression that was almost fond. "Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With private hells and shotgun shells, and bloated corpses all in a row."
The knife sank into the meat of his thigh, but he had her off balance and the strike was clumsy. It missed his femoral artery by a mile, but the shock was to create enough of an opening for Mary to break free. She pivoted away, eyes shining with excitement.
"I do think she'd agree you deserve whatever we do to you, though," she said, casually tossing the remaining knife back into her dominant hand. "And I wonder . . . if you can walk off a bullet to the heart, what else can you survive? Let's find out."
Kevin pulled the knife from his leg, already routing blood away from the wound. "No, you're not her. At least not really her."
He limped back, but that was a ruse. Mary was far better than him in hand to hand combat, but he was bloody tough to kill now and was relying on it. "I'm sorry Mary. I really am. I thought I was helping you and I fucked it all up. And if you want to come after me alone, I deserve it. But my people are here now, and I'm not going to give you a shot at them. So it's not about me now." He dropped the knife. "Run. Now. Because they'll bury you if they have to and I don't want that."
A retort formed on her lips, but in that instant they heard a handful of rapid gunshots from the hall. Company was on its way, and it was close.
He could see the calculations happening behind her eyes. The whirling joy of carnage was gone, revealing its core: emptiness filled only by what could be taken from those around it. For a heartbeat need warred with necessity, then surrendered.
"As much as I'd like to see them try, you're right. It's not about you. Not anymore." The woman sketched a mock-salute with the bloodied knife, grinning. "See you around, Agent Sydney," said Mary, and stepped back into the shadows.
