InsaneJournal

Current mood:	active
Entry tags:	: denarians, here we go again, in my time of dying, lynn, max, nano, risko, ruse, stewart

Section 3 (Instalment 3, done)
Word count: 1 795

ooc: Warning: Character deaths.

During the talk of revelation for Father White, Max kept his usual habit of scanning around. It was a good habit, even though there were still too many obstacles for real wide view. Ace, up on the position he'd chosen on the roof of one of the warehouses, probably had a much better vista.

I could open up my Sight. Yeah, then he'd See a lot more. Maybe if the two kept talking more, exposing them further out in the open, he might yet do just that. But even that wasn't perfect, and it had consequences. Including, possibly, a moment of inattention while his awareness was taking in all that was around him, truly and completely and unforgettably, and getting adjusted to that. If there was justification for his suspicions, he couldn't afford a moment of less than full capacity. Instead he focused on what he could, in fact, see.

His two were scanning the environment as he was. Lynn's blonde hair was blowing slightly with the wind that was giving the day its seasonable chill, but her body was in the mock-relaxed readiness that she'd mastered recently. Because he'd managed to get the better of her using it so many times, on the practice mats. He never looked tense, never looked like he was about to strike or ready for the strike to come - and he always was. That was his job. She'd not accepted that he'd always beat her on the mats. (He never did keep the ones who just accepted that defeat and started avoiding him on practices if they could help him. Not after that trend connected, apparently, with a few other shortcomings. They couldn't afford to be faced with any kind of confrontation if some had lost already, in their minds. Not even in apparently friendly situations.) So she had started learning from him. And from many of the rest whom she had a chance to see sparring with him. Trustworthy.

Risko's close-cropped curly head of hair was moving to a different beat than Lynn's, and they were coving each a half of the area. Back to back almost, though not apparently so - shifted a bit to the side, each in the other's sideways field of vision. Her seemingly relaxed stance contrasted his explicitly at-the-ready one. Nobody could mistake that man for harmless, when he was like that. They'd talked about that in the few years since they'd started working together, the advantages to being underestimated. Which were numerous, and very useful. The man had stood by his ways, however, and was good enough to back that choice up in action, so Max was fine with that (and had been for longer time than most people would be thought of as 'kids', in Risko's place - the man had an almost grown son, for goodness's sake - but then again, wizards had their life spans to thank for an unusual perspective on the subject of ages). It wasn't that bad to have a security member who exuded 'I'm dangerous' on the staff either, and he did it well.

The shorter woman, the possible practitioner, seemed to be impressed. Not in the ways of making-sweet-eyes-to impressed, really. In the way of eyeing him and shifting to turn her own body away from him slightly. She had a slender body and fine, delicate features, framed by wings of hair parted sideways and dyed in an unnatural shade of red that was just a bit too purplish to be truly enjoyable, but if she liked it, , that was fine by Max. The green eyes (they looked a little like they were too vivid for the sunless outing somehow, or too bright) were moving fast. Not quite scanning as his people were, or himself, and not quite shifty as though worried or scared, but... fast. And returning to Risko and shying away again. To Lynn, sometimes, to himself, or the figures beyond him, otherwise. Not so much at her own companions.

Max couldn't see any apparent power foci, but then again, his own rod was small enough to fit in a coat pocket, thanks to many years of reworking it until it worked and was the right size; and his shield amulet was small enough to stay out of sight too. The corners of his mouth slid slightly upwards at that. It had been a gift from Claudia, made by her. As to the woman here... he'd rather stick to the guess that she was a practitioner, after all. Call it gut feeling - but then, he had all this experience of gut feelings being absolutely precise.

Her taller companion was tense. Aaah, all the practice had taught her to recognize people, and she could tell that this bunch here was way more dangerous, put together, than any should be, if things were normal. But in this, nothing was normal, the minister should have warned her about that. It wasn't panicky tense, though. Ready tense. Made her figure stand out that little bit more, and for half a beat he grinned appreciatively. Without meeting her eyes - she probably didn't even see it. But he was who he was, and he did appreciate a fit, strong, energetic body like that. It was... healthy.

The other man... his former colleague, as it were, although Max suspected the dark-haired man hadn't been even born when Max was hiring out - possible, of course, but unlikely - was standing a ways away from him, but frontally facing him. Not confrontationally. More in a way of 'I'm watching what's going on that way so you can watch this way.' So maybe he was somebody who had done homework on the assignment. Possibly. That was good. Unless it was suspicious. He'd look him up, later. Whatever it was that the minister had offered in exchange for his services for this run, he was committed, by all the signs - and he knew the signs, with the knowledge of having given them himself, not to mention read them for so long. So far, so good.

Father White's voice raised slightly made Max look in the direction of the reason for the whole meeting, and he saw that the box had exchanged hands, and they seemed about to head back to the rest of them. His body tensed slightly, ready to move and keep on the security-in-chief's job, when--

"Ma--" Lyn's voice started with the way she usually called his name and made him spin around to her just in time to see what had caused the interruption.

The shorter woman, the one he had suspected to be a practitioner - or at least he thought it was her - had changed. The purplish-red hair had spread into a fur that looked feline like, and own woman's face was just being torn apart by long, panther-like claws slashing across it. Risko took the small step to his colleague's aid and got hurled aside by a sweep of the cat-like creature's arm across his chest. Lynn fell to her knees, blindly for the blood over her eyes, one of her hands trying to clear it carefully without tearing at his face more even as the other one reached for her gun. Risko rolled and came out of it with his knife and his gun out as people started running closer from behind building corners, right where they'd come from, both cars. They needed some time to get into position flashed through Max's mind as he was already in motion, going closer to Lynn and the cat, yelling for them to stop.

He caught sight of the creature's eyes and swore, the second pair of eyes inside of them were way too visible now as she turned, completely disregarding his words, and shot a blast of fire...

... right at Ace's position up on the roof. The man's scream and the smell of sulphur hit Max almost at the same time; it took the burning figure moments after that to stumble off from the roof and fall down. He was probably dead before he hit the ground, burning so hard.

There was a gunshot behind him, and Father White's voice calling out in hurt.

"Shield him, dammit!"

Max's shout at Stewart was quick, and then he could feel that he was obeyed by the tingle of power behind him, as the man's voice called out, "it's only a graze!"

"Stop this! The coins aren't here, there's no use of anybody to get hurt!" The cat's head now turned fully to him, and that almost stopped him and he changed direction, moving to shield as many of the non-magicals as he could right then. Risko and the taller woman. His shield came up as he kept on moving towards them, towards Risko and Lynn.

"You're lying." It made even Max blink at the sight of this creature. It looked like a large insect, a huge praying mantis or something. And it moved extremely fast, over one of the cars and landing by the still-kneeling Lynn, one of the front... claws running through her.

Max's words, "no, not lying, I swear," barely managed to get out before his breath was stopped by the sight of Lynn's life draining from her eyes as the thing coming in from her back stuck out from her chest briefly before it was pulled out. No time now... "Risko. Get closer to the other two. Defense situation."

"Yes, sir." He was already moving, even if his eyes were on the giant insect creature, just as Max tried not to let his be. Not successfully enough to fail to notice the second pair of eyes too. Dammit.

"Stu? How you holding up?"

"Looks like fifteen normal people and a black gorila are coming. I think we can make it."

"We'd better. Get yourself and him over here closer to the cars."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir," the mantis thing mocked. "I take it that's not Stephen de la Marck either, then?"

"No."

"Too bad. Doesn't matter." The voice raised again into, "get the box."

"It doesn't have the coins."

"Irrelevant, Mr. Parker." Max felt as if the insectiod face was smiling. It was ... even for him, chilling. In a beat, he was back with the rest of the survivors, taking stock in full.

Three of the coin-holders. Fifteen... no, the mercenary had managed to shoot down one. Fourteen normal-looking people, moving way too speechlessly for his comfort.

Ow. Maybe it hadn't been overkill, after all.

Two dead, on their side.

All of a sudden, Max thought what they had might not be enough.

"Throw out the box."

"You sure?" Father White's voice was a little shaky, but strong enough.

"Yes. Please."

The wood clattered on the asphalt.

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