Post
by KiaraAlexisKlay » Fri Mar 09, 2007 9:48 pm
Okay, y’all, the long awaited update is here! * key music and wild cheering, applause *
I spent an entire day punching this out, despite my beta up and leaving me, and I hope you all love it.
Just a warning, this chapter I’d rate as Mature to Adult based on violence of a graphic nature and a bunch of language, so if you’re not the appropriate age (I’d say 18+) then I strongly recommend you don’t read further. The POVs change rapidly, so you might have to pay attention so you don’t get lost, or confused.
That said, if you the underage choose to ignore this warning, I as the author and Roswellfanatics.net and all it’s administrators, moderators, and members are not responsible for the damage to the psyche or innocence of the underage willingly ignoring warnings of explicit content.
The usual disclaimers apply, Dark Angel, it’s characters (in the forms of Alec, transgenics, Manticore, and any other such recognizable characters, themes, ideas, etc.) belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee, Fox, and any other parties involved that have not been named. In the same manner, Roswell, it’s characters, ideas, themes, etc. belong to Melinda Metz, James Cameron, the WB, and other parties not named.
I, Kristin, known as KiaraAlexisKlay, the author am only getting entertainment value out of such writing, no profit or copyright infringement being made.
There, now that I have caught up on all the necessary stuff after my prolonged hiatus, please enjoy!
A big shout out to Jamy21 for beta-ing this chapter!
~~~
Chapter 7 – Loaded and Lethal Again
~~~
Special Agent in Charge of the Special Unit Daniel Pierce was having a bad day. A bad two and a half months actually, but most especially, he was having a bad day. He’d come perilously close to executing the one ace up the sleeve they had against the Evans boy, and he’d had no clue what the hell Gillette had been rambling on about, except that the girl was obviously as not human as her boyfriend, yet at the same time was as alien to her boyfriend's breed as he was alien to humans.
Pierce scowled at that tangle of thought, trying to work his Zip-ties to travel up his arm to his wrist, cursing under his breath at the slight tightening. He’d have to work carefully, but he didn’t have a lot of time. Thanks to the lab rat Snowden, who nobly but stupidly called for the cavalry, there would now be several platoons worth of FBI agents and TAC officers bursting in with guns blazing to take out the threat. That would mean there was a chance he or his ace prisoner would get caught in the crossfire and that was not to be allowed.
The pounding at the door and the squawking of radios outside the blast door had Pierce picking up his pace. The hard plastic rubbed along his skin and then…presto! Pulling against the closure piece, Pierce wriggled his wrist and after much scraping, swearing, and wary looks toward the distracted intruder so as not to be noticed, he had one wrist free.
Yes! It wasn’t much of an effort to free his other wrist, and after a warning glare to Gillette, he made his way to the tray that still bore one of his firearms, plus Gillette’s doctor paraphernalia.
Hmm…the things he could do with a scalpel, but unfortunately, time dictated the most expedient means of disposing the menace. He grasped the government issued Glock with familiar ease, already knowing it was loaded, with one in the chamber.
The intruder still had Snowden in his grasp and he alternated looking at the door and at the prisoner, whom he was here to take away. She was in the midst of trying to break free from her restraints.
Not on his watch.
The armed intruder’s back was turned to where Gillette and he was supposed to be; Pierce saw his opportunity, and he raised his pistol to fire…
…when a massive explosion rocked the room, the door flew apart, and the halogen lightbulbs exploding with a loud pop and spark of light.
Damn it, who authorized the release of C4 and detonators to the rescuing idiots?
~~~
Liz knew things were really screwed after the tech bitch came in and screamed…screaming females of high civilian rank in a top secret facility was usually not of the good in her experience. Not that she’d ever had that many opportunities to be in a position where there was a screaming female of high civilian rank of a top-secret facility.
She’d seen movies, though, and the screaming female always heralded danger like a Banshee calling Death. This would be the first, and Blue Lady willing, her last time in this position.
Ingram was slipping in his old age, Jondy snorted, watching as Pierce made his escape. She shook her head, tsk-ing under her breath, “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
She would have made sure both prisoners were secured or at least unconscious, and she would never have turned her back on all of her prisoners.
Transgenic hearing told her what the Special Unit was planning on doing, and even her heat-addled mind knew C4 and plastique detonating was going to be bad. She did some fast calculations and determined that while she wouldn’t be in the direct line of wherever the door landed, (there were at least fifty variations on which way the doors were launched after the explosion, and without an accurate determination on how heavy the doors actually were she couldn’t compute how far they would fly), one thing she was certain of was that bullets were no respecter of who’s side you were on or if you were a prisoner secured.
Those odds she didn’t care for and set about her own escape. To hell with keeping her abilities masked, she didn’t want about fifty bazillion new air holes punched through various portions of her body, thank you very much.
Besides, she still wanted to fuck someone, but you couldn’t screw anyone if you were dead. So that was going to have to be put on the back burner until she could be sure she wasn’t going to look like Swiss cheese.
Every ounce of fear, panic, anger, passion, and survival instinct coupled with her natural strength went into trying to break the arms on the chair. If she could free an arm or a leg she could roll over to the side and put the chair between her and most of the bullets coming her way with minimal damage to herself.
Damn drugs! They were seriously inhibiting her ability to escape quickly and Jondy sent a string of curses in fourteen different languages at the idiot who had created the cocktail.
210 put everything into one arm and was satisfied to hear the weak aluminum of the chair groaning as the arm she focused on started to bend to her will, but it was slow going, even with the noise from Snowden and those outside to muffle her actions.
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon… she chanted, and then there was a brief second of silence that raised all the hairs on her body.
“Shit!” she screamed and pure animal panic caused her to throw her body to one side just as the door exploded inwardly.
~~~
494 cursed out loud as he heard the silence and he gave up any pretense at being stealthy. One strong kick and the vent shot outward, masked by the explosion and he leapt into blinding nothingness.
Years of training and exercises where their sight had been taken away either by blindfold or a beating to swell the eyes had taught 494 to heed his other senses when he couldn’t see. He landed on his feet, rolling into his fall and coming up in a crouch with his .9 mm drawn with a bullet in the chamber. The glass from the busted lightbulbs sluiced off his fatigues and he paid no heed to the small wounds from the shards.
He was already in motion when the first TAC officer came into the room, preceded by a burst from his semi automatic M-4 and cover fire from his comrades. Two guns fired in response and 494’s sharp ears noted the difference between Ingram’s and the prisoner named Pierce’s. More TAC officers came in, the woman screamed, the doctor screamed, Ingram called out for back up and 494 had no choice but to obey.
The acrid smell of smoke and the immediate threat threw his instincts to simmer in the back until a more opportune moment.
Raising his hand and shifting into a stance as natural as breathing, X5-494 entered the fray.
First bullet and one man was down.
Muscles rippling like liquid, feet as swift as a cheetah and as quiet as nothingness, his mind tracked the next threat.
Two more bullets meant two other men dead, shot through the Vermillion line.
Dodge, duck, weave, fire once and fire again. One shot, one kill, two more out of the equation, final bullet left in the clip.
Find cover, fire from concealment, another enemy dead, pop clip out, insert new one, freshly loaded and lethal again.
~~~
The shockwave from the explosion, aided by her wild surge, had knocked the chair off its axis and Liz and it went flying. She knew better than to tense, tense muscles only bruised easier and caused more damage, but she couldn’t do anything else.
Liz’s eyes had closed, and her ears were still ringing from the blast, but upon snapping open it was 210 in control.
Damage report: bruised shoulder, arms, wrist, and ribs on left side. Skull possibly concussed, legs, arms, and wrists still bound. Heat and hormones; momentarily subdued. Status: need to leave premises ASAP!
210 struggled with the arm of the chair she’d been working on previously, noting the explosion had did most of the hard work for her, and with a satisfying snap, she brought the broken piece to her mouth, where she worked on the leather buckle keeping her strapped in since she was still lying on her side and her other arm was momentarily out of commission.
She’d been making progress but a sudden burst of gunfire had her cringing and curling as close to the floor to make herself as inconspicuous of a target as possible. Screaming reached her ears, but 210 merely made note of this, while renewing her efforts to free herself. She had yanked her arm away from her face and panted, the sharp tang of leather on her tongue when suddenly she screamed, a raw, surprised sound as pain seared through her wrist and shoulder.
~~~
494’s head snapped around, that last scream causing something inside him to react, and he found himself running through a storm of bullets to the downed chair.
A snarl and a howl of pure rage burst through his lips as he slid the last few feet toward the wounded figure huddling under the slim cover of the chair, firing his gun like some super spy hero out of some pre-Pulse movie.
Four men went down and the gunfire in this direction ceased for a few moments.
~~~
210 hissed as she felt a presence but knew she couldn’t defend herself, to her dismay.
I’ve been fucking shot! Jondy and Liz screamed inwardly, but there was a new threat to be dealt with.
Tensing, 210 looked up at the face of her newest ‘attacker’…
…and froze upon scenting and confirming her mate.
~~~
494 didn’t hesitate or give any thought to what he was about to do. He didn’t stop to think that he was going to free the enemy, the target, the rogue 09er whose group had caused him so much pain and unnecessary punishment.
Blood from the gunshot wounds she’d sustained and her steely determination carried through the bitter smoke of gunfire and the busted bulbs, and he was aware only of a few things.
Mate, hurt, PROTECT!
She was here. Gunshot through the wrist, bones shattered.
She was wounded. Another gunshot just above the elbow, bullet still inside?
She was his.
She was…purring?
~~~
Technically, he was the enemy, and subconsciously, Jondy Liz and 210 knew that he was here to take her back to Hell.
But that didn’t matter.
He was here. Smelled so good.
He was releasing her from the butt-freeze chair. Gentle hands not so gently ripping leather and metal, but careful not to jar her injuries.
He had killed the bastards who’d shot her. Protector, strong.
He was hers, her mate. MINE.
A purr of pure longing, satisfaction, and gratefulness burst out her mouth as soon as he touched her, and not even 210 could explain the immediate sense of safety and the fact that everything was now all right.
~~~
“Freaking, stupid, bastard!”
Ingram fired a round in the direction he’d last glimpsed that stupid Agent, knowing it was probably useless as the blasted man ducked under cover. The light from the hallway wasn’t trustworthy, as smoke and gun bursts and the flashlights on the guns of the invading force made sight severely limited.
Trevor had long ago – or so it seemed- to have rid himself of the Snowden bitch. He hadn’t meant to do it on purpose, but he’d inadvertently used her as a human shield. How was he to know that these tic-TAC officers were the shoot first, see if anyone survived later kind of guys?
Luckily, he had an X5 on his side, but that damned supersoldier had went off somewhere in the room and he couldn’t see but a few feet in front of him.
“Can’t trust anything to your back these days,” Ingram grunted, dodging another spate of gunfire aimed in his direction. Pierce was really starting to piss him off and how the hell had he gotten loose?
“Never trust anyone to do your own job,” Ingram was disgusted with himself. He’d let his own pride and ego at having the rogue in hand that he’d gotten lazy and now a rookie mistake could get himself killed.
“Damnit!”
Luckily for him, Pierce and the other non-transgenic people couldn’t see worth a shit either. Not so luckily, a bullet meant for his head hit his collarbone and the pain was almost enough for him to pass out.
The little bastard had shot him. He was going down, Ingram swore, gritting his teeth as he stemmed the flow of blood with one hand. He waited patiently, and then he fired. Pierce jerked and flew backwards, and Ingram didn’t bother with the smirk, he just dived forward, bullets riddling where his head had been.
Yup, if he survived this, Deck was going to kill him.
Slowly.
Painfully was a redundant understatement.
He only hoped Deck’s ‘kid’ was okay because if anything unfortunate happened to her…
Death would be the least of my worries, he thought morosely.
~~~
Two bandages, four hand signals, and one kamikaze run through the gauntlet of desperate gunfire later, 210 was armed and fighting side by side with her mate. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t sure she recalled his designation, if she’d ever known it, or that he probably wasn’t too certain about her either.
What mattered was that for the first time in nearly eleven years she was kicking ass with one of her own kind, and what a difference it made! She couldn’t deny that, down in the bowels of a secret military and government facility, bullets flying, and death hovering in air, that she was having fun.
Okay, the fact that she had just blown away one of the guards who’d been sent to her cell to ‘convince’ her to give up Max and the rest of the Pod Squad, might have had a little to do with it.
Just a little.
At her side, or she at his however one wanted to look at it, her mate was an amazing sight to behold. This grown up version left her all hot and bothered, even amidst all the chaos and destruction, perhaps even despite her heat. He’d lost most of the baby ‘fat’ around his face, and though still youthful looking, he was lean and even broader across the shoulders than she remembered.
He’d filled out a little more in the chest and arms, grown a few more inches, though he’d never be what one would call a tall man. But there was a strength and sturdiness that she’d associated with Kyle and Sheriff Valenti, the kind of little Mustang or Morgan horse stability that the tall aristocratic Thoroughbreds or the bulging draft horses could never have.
His eyes were just as intense as she’d remembered, somehow made all the more startling and vibrant by the dark clothes and the sporadic lighting. One moment they were a clear green to rival Maria’s…the next they looked closer to Michael’s. Most often they were a blend of the two, and then sometimes when they looked at her, they darkened and shifted to something more primal and natural looking on their furred cousins. She could lose herself in those ever changing depths, but right now, they had a common goal.
Kill as many of these fuckers as possible.
After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Then, maybe then, would they be able to get back to being adversaries and possibly hating each other, with her trying to escape and him trying to catch her.
Her lover made a gesture and she answered in kind, a different kind of thrill and adrenaline coursing through her as they advanced upon their targets. This was what she was made for and to be at the side of one so competent soldier…well, there was a momentary wistful longing that she had stayed longer for her training, but that thought was quickly cast aside.
There was so much in her life that she owed to the people she’d met on the Outside, she just couldn’t imagine ever having anything changed. She wouldn’t give up having met any of the people in her life, except maybe Pierce and his goonettes, for all the Manticore training in the world.
Eyes front, soldier! 210 barked, casually stiffening her arm and clotheslining the unaware soldier. Another snap of her hand as he went down and the man was unconscious and likely to wake up a paraplegic.
She looked up and smirked, winking at her mate and lover, laughing inwardly.
This was so what she was made for.
The fight was almost better than sex.
Almost.
~~~
494 nearly felt sorry for the advantages they had over the TAC officers…almost. These were the damned humans who had tortured and tormented his mate for weeks on end, who had shot her, and now were after them after having screwed up what should have been a simple find and retrieve mission. He was certain he was going to get several sessions of Psy Ops for this, even though it wasn’t his fault, but that had never stopped him from being punished.
So he didn’t feel all that bad that his petite mate took out a man over twice her height and bodyweight, or that they could see in the dark and adjust almost instantaneously to the ever changing lighting, or that the man his mate just took out would probably never feel anything below his neck again.
He could still smell her blood, and he knew she was still bleeding steadily, albeit slowly. The wound in her wrist was bleeding faster, having an exit and entry wound, and concerned him more than the wound above her elbow. Though if they didn’t get the bullet out soon, there could be problems. Just because they were immune to most things, didn’t make them immune to bleeding out or blood clots.
When she looked up at him, smirking and winking at him, his heart swelled with an emotion he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt or that he wanted to. Emotions was what had caused the 09ers to commit treason.
Catching her wink and sending her one of his own, he signaled Three men, lined abreast and motioned up ahead, she nodded, and raised her purloined M-16, easily slipping back into soldier mode and passing in front of him, taking point.
Shaking his head, either with wonder or amusement, he didn’t know, still he followed her.
Now that he’d found her again, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.
~~~
Three men had him pinned down when his earpiece suddenly chattered to life.
“Agent, report!”
“Shit!”
Ingram ducked under the barrage of hail fire his curse had apparently asked for. Well, what did they expect when Lydecker’s voice suddenly chimed in his head?
“That better be an acronym, Agent. Over!”
“Situation. Has. Intensified. Tenfold!” Ingram snarked as he popped up and fired a few bursts and then ducked down again.
There was a silence and then, “Facility being surrounded. Reinforcements arriving T-minus ten minutes.”
“Thank God. Over.”
The sputter of an M-16 and a SAW ripped through the air, and then there were roars of pain and eventually, silence. Sporadic bursts of fire came to his ears, and he could track the position of the enemy by their death cries.
The gunfire tapered off and then the silence stretched longer.
Cautiously, and painfully as his shoulder throbbed and bled off the makeshift bandage, Ingram came out from behind his cover.
He still couldn’t see anything, but he had the weirdest sense that he was the only living person in the room. A groan from the fallen Agent Pierce he just stepped on had him reassessing that statement.
Ingram groaned as he bent down and felt for a pulse. Exhaled breath feathered his wrist.
“Damn, still breathing.” Trevor scowled at the agent who’d shot him.
“That could be remedied.”
“Shit!”
Ingram whipped his pistol upwards but halted at the sight of both his transgenics before him. He blinked and when his vision cleared he could still see two transgenics, one male and one female: one was 494 for certain and the other was definitely 210 in all her glory.
Sweat, grime, and blood – lots and lots of blood- was splattered all over her and her clothes, but that didn’t seem to affect her grip on the lethal looking M-16 rifle any. Her hair, long and unbound, was slick with it, wet strands glistening in the reddish light of the alarms and alert status the base was in. Her left wrist and arm just above the elbow were bandaged, though there was more blood escaping her wrist than being contained in a steady drip.
Both were in a modified at ease stance around him, side by side, and for a moment Ingram forgot that they weren’t all on the same side. That little lapse of reality, which he would later blame on blood loss and other things, lasted only until the radio in his ear squawked with Lydecker’s clear tones.
“Agent, reinforcements in T-minus five minutes, building surrounded. Secure the rogue, over.”
Both men seemed dumbstruck as the Colonel’s voice broke the loaded silence.
~~~
Lydecker!
Jondy-Liz panicked and 210 was already out the door and down the hall before her thought process caught up.
Escape and Evade!
~~~
“Damnit, she’s armed!” 494 took off after her.
“Stupid…” he growled.
~~~
“Stupid,” Liz hissed, rifle snapping into position and she fired a close burst into the surprised Special Unit members, not stopping in her mad dash for freedom.
~~~
“Stupid!” Ingram groaned, heaving the unconscious Special Agent in Charge of the Special Unit’s body to the nearest stationary pole, making sure to secure him properly this time, disarming him and removing spare clips.
“All units, this is Agent One, the Rogue is on the move, repeat, the Rogue is on the move. X5 in pursuit. Be advised, the Rogue is in heat, repeat, Rogue in heat. She’s wounded and bleeding, left wrist and just above the elbow, gunshot. Rogue’s armed, I repeate, the Rogue is armed. Copy, over.”
Wearily, Ingram leaned against the blown apart doorway, suddenly so tired and acutely aware of his age and the pain in his body.
“Copy that Agent. Rogue lethal and loaded. Over and out.”
Trevor Ingram sighed, and waited for the reinforcements that would come. Pierce stirred and groaned, and Ingram was struck with a sudden thought.
This was the man responsible for the rape and torture and possible exposure of one of Deck’s precious kids. Everything had been documented and recorded and sent to Manticore, and Pierce had been identifiable in almost all of the recordings.
Suddenly, Ingram wasn’t in that much pain, and the X5 who came to retrieve him and secure any prisoners was curious at the odd smile upon his face.
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