(IC): Oscillation Chapter 1: The Void that Binds
General consensus is reached with Kenji's plan. Especially since nothing better is on the table. There's a short spasm of activity, Whisper hands Emil off to Kenji. The small Nomad doesn't take much to support, he's more of a block to effective weapon handling than a cause of exertion. He moans a bit at the transfer, but still can't manage much more than a drool. The reconfigured caravan shuffles out, headed for the surface leaving behind two Edgerunners with devilish imaginations to slow or end Listener pursuit.
Lube waits, squatting on top of a rotting car that won't stop much more than a screwdriver shoved by a toddler with his shotgun cradled in his arms. He's up high, has to be to get the angle. Behind the tech, Whisper checks his ammo, slows his breathing and slips into the Zen trance that precedes violence. The Listeners aren't shy about arriving at the fan blades. A crash signifies the gurney hitting the floor. There's a wrench of tearing metal as the first fan is removed from its housing that gets a few raised eyebrows from the ambushers. Then footsteps. A crack as someone loses their footing on magnesium marbles.
"Yeah, fuck it. Vaya al infierno," Lube Job quips before firing off his ignition round. Below his hip, Whisper throws a couple rounds downrange for good measure. Then they're moving because nothing announces your position and attracts incoming fire quite like a flamethrower. The hood of the car buckles as Lube hops down, his boot driving through rust before halting on a 4-cylinder piece of imported shit with a thud. Whisper grabs his partner, pulls him off the car and starts hustling across the water stained, mold filled parking structure.
Behind the duo, the void space erupts into a bright fireball that casts the shadows of the fleeing Edgerunners forward for several seconds before burning itself out and returning the area to subterranean darkness. There aren't any screams, but there is a heavy splash that carries across the space. Someone has a found a gravity assisted shortcut to P4. Maybe they'll drown, Whisper hopes silently, moving his attention to breathing and not slipping on the decades of yuck his boots are pounding across.
Up ahead, Kenji sets up a quick rendezvous point on the dry ground of P1 stairwell landing. He's got to get organized, get this whole shit show figured out before they have more company. The last thing anyone needs is the Scavs in the mall to come looking at all the noise and decide that there's some easy pickings available. Pandora shoots the medic an inscrutable glance when he offers her the Mylar blanket, but she accepts it without complaint. The silver reflective eyes make it damn hard to figure out what anyone is feeling unless they are a: unconscious (Emil and Ji-Hoon) or b: sobbing (like Daphne). Pandora shifts away in a crinkle of shiny fabric to cover their six down the stairs while Monica watches for surprises from above.
"Kentucky," Black Jasper chuckles, "Sorry to hear about the neighbors. Two rental SUVs are on the way to your car's last. Can you vector me in from there?"
"Half a block due south," Kenji reports succinctly. "Pedestrian entrance to the parking garage of the mall."
"Got ya."
The sound of gunfire begins echoing through the dark concrete caverns again. Perhaps the Listeners are expecting more nasty surprises or maybe they're just pissed off. In either case, Parking Level P3 is a death trap of ricochets and tracer fire. It's a spot Cruz and Lowell are happy to leave behind. The duo dashes into the stairwell and starts climbing, lungs burning and boots thumping hard on the concrete.
"Go! Vamanos!" Cruz shouts up the stairs.
Kenji doesn't need to be told twice. Neither does any one else. Trying to be as gentle as possible, the medic pulls the crying Daphne to her feet and starts to hustle her up the stairs. Their new corporate addition, Monica, blasts up the steps, stalking out into daylight like someone on the other side of the door owes her a great deal of money, weapon up and bad attitude brandished. Kenji with Daphne in tow and Emil over a shoulder clears the stairs next, squinting against the bright California sun for a moment and trying to make sense of the situation at hand. The rubble is still there, Scavs no where to be seen. Two black SUVs are screaming down the street, possessed by some operating code that has sent them to his location in a hurry. Pandora pushes Kentucky aside, Ji-Hoon over her shoulder, mirror blanket sending a disco ball effect against the walls of the nearby buildings.
Inside the stairs, Whisper and Lube hit the first level landing before they hear the door open on P3 below them. Without exchanging a word, both men pause, aim their weapons down the shaft, and rain more violence down on their pursuers. It's a continues trigger pull twenty feet below ground, the sonic assault punishing even with internally surprised weapons. A concrete tube can only take so many breaches of the sound barrier before everybody badly wants to be somewhere else.
"Let's go!" Pandora yells down from above. "Get the fuck gone!"
The rear security element emerges to find Lube pushing Daphne into an SUV, body between her and any emerging threats. Up front, Monica slides into the passenger seat clutching her own weapon. The rear hatch shuts slowly, the naked form of Emil disappearing from view. Another SUV sits nearby, rear hatch closing to seal Ji-Hoon in. Pandora, draped in mylar poncho stands near the open front passenger door, pistol gripped tightly and aimed at the door behind Whisper and Lube. The rear passenger door is open, waiting. They don't need to be told where to go.
Lube's boot hits the running bar and he vaults into the vehicle sliding all the way across the back seat. It doesn't hurt much, not until Whisper lands basically on top of him, shoving his head against the side door. There's several bangs: two gun shots, two car doors, and a sudden sense of acceleration.
As the vehicles speed away, Whisper raises his head and sweeps the area for any remaining threats. For a split second he catches a glimpse of Royce huddled down between a few bits of concrete and watching the whole show unfold, face plastered with a lopsided grin.