2013.07.14 - All Comes Down

The day comes, as it is wont to do. The sun rises in the east, over the island before it begins to consider lighting the mainland. Shanghai, and all of China is abuzz with the rise in seeming organized crime. Never before have they been so blatant, so willfully ignoring the rule of law, or rather, ignoring the constant payouts from the corrupt officials to the mob, and vice versa.

Officials' offices have their phones ringing off the hook about a few incidents scattered about. In some cases, duly elected figures have been caught in the crossfire, and answers need to be found. Goats need to be scaped.

More specifically, blowing up Fury's datapad regarding the activities of a certain albino mercenary. Shootouts.. with someone else in the mix.

Goddammit.

An albino merc with a damned blacked eye is pretty fucking obvious in China, is seethed, and not very quietly. In fact, the Director is pretty pissed off. He's been moving from being observed, to disappearing, to being observed again, easily filling in those times of disappearances with 'sightings' at tourist traps, restaurants with his name on the bill and the like.

Now, it's time to go home, and bring a certain albino with him.

Out on the docks, on the huge expanse of island covered with three to four stacked shipping containers on virtually every inch of the land, there is a dock-workers' union. Today, this morning, happens to be a meeting of the higher officials. It's not a planned meeting, mind, but with the goings on in New York, and the hit on the Italian mob there, it's a better place to be. Easier to influence and grease pockets. And take out those who stand in the Hand's way. They want in on the port, and today is the day that the biggest push happens.

Could be that Nick knew it, and it could be that Domino's luck is playing out in a strange sort of way. Regardless of why, there it is.

There's only one problem.

Because of the shootings and such, not only is the Hand involved, but there is some extra security for the docks by the Chinese government. How is the Hand going to parlay with the officials lurking?

Domino will gain a text, pushing through most of the safeguards, if she's bothered to put any in.

''Same place. 6 am.''

"You know, I've almost missed that electric feeling in the air before something big."

The lone woman's voice is lost within the otherwise empty room. The main event is only moments away. Tucked away in a dark, quiet space not far from the massive shipping complex sits the monochromatic merc, slumped back in a chair with her feet crossed over the edge of the accompanying table. Every last one of her weapons has been laid out before her, the patterns neat, tidy, and consistent. Every gun, every blade, every last magazine topped off with the heaviest hitting ammo she could find.

In one hand Domino holds one of her traditional compensated 10mm sidearms. In the other, her poison of the morning. She's already downed a fair amount of it, relishing the slow alcoholic burn, letting the liquid draw the tension out of her muscles. It's a little before six, she knew what day the shit is officially going to hit the fan. It's no surprise to her when the message comes through, setting the drink and not the gun aside as she reaches for her phone and flicks the screen on.

"Guns at dawn at the OK Corral, huh. Least I won't be kept waiting."

The phone gets flicked onto the table, one spot of disharmony within her meticulate organization of ordnance. Her glass is emptied then slung aside, breaking on its way into the corner. The gun gets nested against her stomach, this time reaching for a small container of facepaint.

One tattooed black spot on one side. A pair of sweeping, angled black lines beneath the eye of the other. It's time to let the monster out to play.

Rising from her seat she quickly and methodically reaches for her weapons, two at a time, and returns them to her person. No trench to hide her toys today, nothing but blackened armored skin and combat webbing loaded down with potential destruction.

Minutes later the albino is back on the seat of her borrowed Ducati, the engine whining shrilly in the early morning breeze. With the squeak of a tire and a brisk wheelie out of the alley she points the bike toward the bridge and takes off like an arrow out of Hell.

If Nick thought things were a disaster before, he ain't seen nothing yet.

Nick goes through very much the same routine as Domino does, only he has a couple more layers to go through. When all is said and done, he doesn't have anything but himself to fall back on. Going into this, he's facing four potential combatant groups. The union. The Hand. The Chinese Authority. Domino. Any one of them is as dangerous as the next. He only has one thing going for him on two counts. The Chinese Authority may want to play nice with him so SHIELD doesn't come down on them. (Which wouldn't happen too obviously.) Domino, well.. she wants to go home. (But she's resourceful enough that if she has to, she'll take the longer route.)

The Director is in place long before the allotted time, set up in the shipping crate. It takes awhile to move around unseen, setting up things here and there for what will inevitably come. Trip wires. C4. Lines with flash-bangs. He's not even certain he'll survive this. But, as a Ranger, at this point in time?

Who the hell wants to live forever?

There comes a second thought, unbidden.

The trick is to make 'them' to die for their cause.

"Come on, damned stupid merc. I want to get my ass out of here too."

As before, the bike is parked further away from ground zero. Maybe Domino's lucky that the path she uses to reach the meeting point doesn't end up with her prematurely setting off any of those traps. The thing that surprises her the most? Fury's here. Gearing up to fight with her (or maybe against her?)

"Don't you have underlings like me to do the dirty work for you?" she asks in a none too friendly tone, half-gloved hands falling upon glossy, black, weapon-adorned hips.

(Fashionably late. He can deal with it.)

"Here I figured you for the 'kick back with a smoke and a shake and enjoy the show on the big screen' kinda guy." Isn't it typical operating procedures to tell her how to evac then leave it up to her to be where she needs to be at the right time? Having the Director himself here seems ..a little dicey.

On the other hand, it means SHIELD reinforcements. He wouldn't be here alone. Not with her, not with this. Dom's got herself a world-class distraction at her disposal. Neat.

"If you're taking bets on who gets the higher body count, kills made by your subordinates don't count towards your total."

"When I've got the fucking Chinese government on this as well as the Hand? And the Union on top of that? I don't think even you could get out of that alive." Fury doesn't even bother to turn around now, his manner and mien dead set on the next few minutes of his life. Their lives. "You did a bang up job on announcing your goddamned presence. Even got CCTV on you. Damned stupid." The Director turns around now to stare at the merc, his voice canted low. "By all rights, I should let them haul your black and white head on a pike like they want to. But I'll be damned if they get one of mine.. because I'm going to put your goddamned head on a pike. When we get home."

Oddly enough, it doesn't look as if Nick is anywhere near as heavily armed as she. At least he doesn't have weaponry dripping off him. What he does have in hand, muzzle down is an AKM.

"Did you know I was a Ranger back when? In more than one war, I might say. Being a desk jockey all the time pisses me off." Reaching for a cigar, Fury considers lighting it, but puts it back slowly and reluctantly. "I don't send people where I wouldn't go myself. No sense in that. That way, if they fuck up, I can tell them where and how. And if they pull some amazing thing out of their ass? I can tell them that too." To be a leader of men requires that one follows.. at times.

"Now, there's gonna be a meeting going on near Crane #2. There's a Russky container ship out there, and we're gonna use that." He smiles wolfishly. "I've got stuff to cover our departure. We'll have a helo ready to pick us up about ten miles out."

Domino's hands jump away from her hips, held up higher in an expression of complete irritation. "I'm here to kill people then leave, Fury. They already know who I am and that I'm in the country. If you wanted me in a shadow op you would have gone to bigger pains to make sure I arrived here in the dark. It isn't being stupid, it's not caring. Know the difference." Growl. "Take a fucking number and stuff it."

When he starts going into his backstory Dom sighs softly and rolls her eyes, saying "Did you know that I don't care?" from the side. When he continues uninterrupted she tacks on some more sarcasm, "Good for you, you're a real patriot." Then, "Even going where you send your outsourced hands?" Yes, there's evidence staring her down only a few feet away. That doesn't stop her from being in a jabbing, offensive mood.

A meeting on a crane? Oh, this could be fun... "Pick 'em off from a distance or drop the crane out from under them?" she asks, her tone suddenly doing a complete reversal from 'go to hell' to 'let's do this shit.' There's also miles of stacked container mazes to think about. Ambush points are a dime a dozen. Easy to disappear in a hurry but that would also place a person in a serious situation for being ambushed thirteen ways to Tuesday. This is definitely going to get ugly.

"How are you on jungle gyms?"

Is he kidding? Who knows.. as he starts to make his way to the door, and down the ladder. "Look sharp."

Once on the ground, Nick looks around, tacitly knowing things are clear- up to a certain point. It's quick travel, keeping out of the main thoroughfares.. but to get closer to the hub of activity, it becomes a little more crowded.

The Director will allow one worker past, yes. Flattening himself against the containers, this method doesn't slow him down any. Not by much, anyway. It's when someone with a suit passes that Nick strikes, quickly and quietly from behind, arm around the neck, and a rapid *crack*. The Chinese official crumples to the ground soundlessly, the only sign of his passing is the soft emptying of his lungs.

Digging into the man's pockets, Nick pulls out an iPhone, and checks it before he pockets it.

"Better than you, old-timer."

He may be kidding, but Domino is not. She was an agile creature by design, then she spent hours training further with the likes of Nightcrawler. She's feeling practically half ferret these days.

It's the very first time that she's ever willingly followed the likes of Fury. If she has her way it will also be the last time. Without access to her usual network of equipment she's having to go into this run without a single suppressor on her person. She hadn't put the taser on her wrist, Deadpool caught her during her downtime in a bar. (She still has grenades though, fancy that.) She does have blades, however, and plenty of them. Even then she wouldn't be surprised if she ended up using all of them before this dance is over. It's a good thing they're so inexpensive or she'd never make any money on a contract. Some days the price of ammo is more than enough.

When the businessman gets dropped (and for a bloody phone,) Dom steps in closer behind Nick, quietly offering "If you needed to call your mother so badly, you could have asked to use mine."

Not that she would have handed it over, but that's beside the point.

As soon as Nick passes by she takes a turn and claims the bills from guy's wallet.

"Gonna use its frequency," comes as a response as Fury continues to move every forward. He has his toys!

Several container 'blocks' ahead, there is the beginning of the leading edge of the dock. Crane 1 is loading a small container ship, and Crane 2 looks as if it's unloading from a larger Russian Container. There are black cars with dark, tinted windows parked on the edge of the docks, with several people leaning against them, all looking in a particular direction. (Not the best of guards there, huh?)

Fury waves to the merc, gesturing towards a stack of containers. Highest spot at the moment. "I want them gone." Climbing up onto the ladder of his own stack of containers, Nick's going up one handed, reaching around for his AKM. Not very graceful, but it works. Now, it's truly a fight. Take 'em out. Reaching the top, he's still got surprise on his side. For the next couple of seconds, anyway, as he lays flat on the top, sighting in.

"Natch. You guys would be blind without your tech."

Blacked out cars, first sign. Guards, second sign. Kill orders, third sign. A lopsided grin starts to play across Dom's ebony-toned lips. "I can do that."

Fury's got his toys, his resources, the Helicarrier, hundreds of stupidly well trained operatives to his name, and now he's also got the higher ground.

Domino..has luck.

Rather than climb a container or get into a better position she just starts walking right for the line of guards. They're looking elsewhere. The odds of them either not noticing her or thinking she belongs here are entirely within her favor. She's practically right on top of them before anyone realizes she's even there, and not one of their own.

"Hi!"

Knife to the throat, backward kick to the face of his buddy, blade out of throat and thrown into the neck of a third, gun of the first taken in off-hand and fired upon fourth and fifth as she drops into a low crouch, right hand already drawing another one of her blades to the ready.

When Lady Luck's in the house, everyone else is moments away from losing the game.

Well now. How people translate I want them gone is always fascinating. Some take the subtle approach. Some take a 'blow 'em all to hell' approach. Nick watches from his perch and reaches back to lock a grenade launcher on the bottom of the barrel. This sight that unfolds before him requires a whole new methodology than the one he was anticipating. But, call him flexible.

That muzzle shifts, and a second later a bright and brilliant light flares before an earsplitting *BOOM!* sounds. Of course, the concussion from the sound of a 50 gallon iron drum exploding is one thing. The shrapnel that flies from it is something else completely. Shards of iron fly in every direction; car alarms begin to go off, and the suits that were standing even vaguely nearby are sheared by the shrapnel, dropping in good number.

Yes, Domino has grenades. She's also saving them since she can't easily restock out here. Nick also has grenades, let him use his own.

The first pile of guys go down with all of two pistol shots before the barrel explodes, and thank goodness she happens to be crouched behind a car when it goes. "Woooo, that's more like it!"

It may be a necessary unpleasantness for SHIELD. For her it's entertainment.

To heck with using another blade, she keeps the stolen pistol in her left and hauls out the Glock 18C she pulled off of one of the Russian arms dealers mere hours back with the right. Thirty-three rounds at her fingertip and a full auto trigger that can dump the whole thing in about three seconds flat. Not bad for a disposable pistol.

People will have heard this, for miles around. These docks are about to be swarmed with armed baddies. Dom's gotta keep moving. ..In a moment. She ducks into the nearest sedan, finding the keys in the ignition and a suitcase in the passenger footwell. The engine starts. The accelerator gets mashed down by the suitcase. She pops it into gear and stands back to let it fly as it pleases.

With a quick smirk and salute in parting she takes off like a ghost on the wind.

Sometimes, a girl's just gotta make a mess of things.

That explosion? It was a work of art. Men are on the ground, writhing in pain- those that aren't immediately dead from the concussive force, that is. The screams in Chinese fill the air as well as the scent of exploded accelerant. It's a smell with which Nick Fury is all too familiar, and he won't say that it's unwelcome. He's got a mission here, and so far, it looks pretty good from his vantage.

There.. another grenade is set onto his launcher, but before that can happen, Fury rolls onto his side and takes up the stolen cell phone. He's not so bad at technology, having followed it all from it's basic infancy, and thumbs a number in before repocketing the thing.

Three..

Two..

Sighting in again on another barrel, the grenade is launched at exactly the same time that the counter controlling three flash-bangs receives the message and counts down..

One...


 * BOOM*

Another fifty gallon drum explodes into fragments, making it much more dangerous than any frag-grenade ever could be. Iron flings itself in the immediate vicinity; and that's not to mention the heat and fire of the fuel within. One unlucky sod bursts into flames as well as turned into sieve.. and the flaming, what was once human, takes a couple of steps bidden only by the nerves before they die before he collapses.


 * BOOM!*

Three smaller concussive grenades go off deeper into the container garden, bringing out more men out of the immediate area.

Perfect. When they return, Nick will have another surprise for them.

The car gains a glance from Nick, and a smile that actually looks.. pleased. It'll look like some Chink coward is making a run for it.. and sure enough? Those couple on the ground that haven't yet been scarred by exploding barrels or knifed by the elusive, lucky Domino, open fire on the car.

Whoomp-Whoomp-WHOOMP

Instincts kick in, twisting Domino about and throwing her head to the side as a piece of shrapnel from the second exploding drum comes perilously close to gouging half of her face off.

Instead it lodges itself into the skull of the guard she had dropped with her kick a moment earlier, having since rearmed to the point of drawing a bead on her back. Much like the smell and the concussive wall of heat that washes over the area, she knows that sound all too well. Having spun around she's in the perfect position to watch him go down with a jagged chunk of barrel in his forehead.

"Huh."

Into the containers she runs, kicking up along the side of one then leaping across a gap and rolling out across another. By time she comes around she's identified more targets of her very own, the heavier BLAM! of the former guard's .45 mixing with the sharp BRRRT! as the 9mm automatic speaks in short, chaotic bursts.

Still in motion, ever in motion. A leap off the back of one cargo container drops her on top of another, hands and sidearms alike darting to and fro as she picks her targets then downs her targets. Yet she's right fucking there, barely any cover to her name. If anyone thinks to start shooting her way they do so with less than ideal aim!

What Nick doesn't notice, however, is the trunk of a car opening, only to bring out a launcher of their own. A Norinco QLZ87. Nick is much too set on taking out the easy targets; and getting those others to scatter to catch it's setting up.. and it's at the last moment when he catches the movement at the car.. and goes for an emergency dismount, rolling off the top of the container at the concussive blast.


 * K-BOOM!*

Sheets of metal are curled in, a hole is punched through.. and bits of metal fly, acting as flechettes, tearing into tender, unarmored skin.

As the Director hits the ground, he's got tears in his clothes, his arms are bleeding, and there's a bit of blood drawing down from the side of his head. Once more on his feet, however, he's got his AKM in hand, and loads another grenade.

"Goddamned commie bastard.." is sworn, and looking around, he catches the direction of where his merc's gone, and begins a flanking movement around behind her, cutting off any chance of pursuers.

A sharp report of gunfire coming from the AKM sounds, a twitch of the trigger lets off a good twenty rounds, and those behind that Type 87 are cut down.

Launcher!

Domino's fortunate to be outside of the blast range of that beast, though there's still other things to worry about. And other things for the baddies to worry about.

Her runaway sedan sweeps around in an uncontrolled turn, the back end whipping around and colliding with another guy taking aim in her direction.

His shot goes high, sailing up and over the battlefield until it hits just one target, about an inch in diameter.

TWANG!

An instant of nothing is followed with the groaning shriek of stressed steel cable, one of the cargo containers being relocated by the crane suddenly losing half of its support. The loosed end comes sweeping down, casting a menacing shadow across those unfortunate enough to be beneath it.

It clears their heads.

A few of the guards look to one another in relief. That was close.

TWANG!

WHAM!

Where the two had stood there's now a mangled container lying on its side, having taken them out on the return trip. One of the doors ruptures open, scattering dozens of giant water jugs meant to refill office building coolers across the globe.

Elsewhere Domino vaults off of another container, somersaulting and gunning down two more guys before landing in a crouch. Two spent pistols are flung aside, switching out for the cut-down battle rifle across her back.

(Something's not right. This is way too easy. He could have sent me to mop up this crew by myself. Where's all of the trouble he was expecting?)

Now, Nick gets the chance to wipe some of the blood that drips down the side of his head, even as he finds cover somewhere. The snap of the cable gains the man's complete attention, and he -stares- at the chaos that ensues. That cable that snaps.. no.. it was -shot-(?) brings the thing down, swinging like a pendulum as the weight on the other cables grow heavier. As if in slow motion, it comes down.. and it's like a proverbial train wreck. He can't tear his eyes from the scene until it smashes down, the water containers rolling out. Some roll off the docks and into the water, and others find their way on the causeway on the docks.

It's true. It is too easy.. and perhaps it's luck answering, maybe a more malevolent force, but Nick had warned her that the Chinese government was involved in this. From the container ship berthed near Crane 1, the smaller ship, a good number of the crew come up, all armed. (There are problems with pirates here and there, after all!)

Shooting starts to come from the ship then, and while they're not aimed at Domino per se, there are many, many ricochets. Cursing again, Nick begins to make his way to the dockside proper, running from cover to cover on sheer adrenaline, bursts of fire coming from his rifle.

Cockiness is a weird thing. At first these guys figured they could handle the problem by skills and numbers. After a mere minute or two they're starting to change their tune. More men. Bigger weapons. More intense fighting. After all, they don't want to die, and it seems like they can't count on their buddies to end this threat!

The albino leaps behind another container right as one unleashes with a 5mm assault rifle, filled with armor-piercing rounds. The sound of them punching through the one container then straight through to the one beside it (and the one beyond that) is almost comical, if not for how dangerous it is. Domino balls herself up into as tiny of a target as she can, arms wrapped around her head as she waits it out. In the process of waiting she ends up getting chewed to pieces. One nicks a line across thigh and calf alike. Another drills past her side. A third snags at her sleeve, pulverizing one of the buckles to her harness.

By the time it stops she slowly raises her head and looks at the contaner in front of her. There's a solid line of fresh holes riddling it like a piece of swiss cheese, with one neat little cluster right in the middle where the shots somehow missed.

The container she took cover behind had something heavy inside. She landed in just the right place to deflect that handful of shots away from her vitals.

Wide eyes blink once. "Thank you, God."

Adrenaline as her witness, she's getting the fuck out from those containers.

Oh, and a frag grenade to the shooter for his troubles.

"Grena--!"

B-DAM!

Now, so far, there's been Chinese government and union and a couple of 'potshots' in the offing. But, when all is said and done, it is the Hand that has its hand in all of this, and as Nick moves forward, checking on the 'all clear', there are a couple of suited gents that emerge from the cockpit of Crane 2. What was it he'd said? Take out 2.

Little late on the uptake, and as Nick turns his gun on the pair, they begin their cartwheels, their roundoffs, spinning in the air even as Nick takes the shots, bringing the weapon up to bear, the bullets flying in an upward, controlled arc. One is hit, and drops out of the air with a *whoof*, but the other lands with a boot on his arm, bringing the weapon down and out of his hand. "You son of a bitch.." is growled, and the one-eyed Fury pulls a knife, and sets it into his off-hand before he rushes in, spinning around to sweep a leg and slice at at the Hand's chest. It's countered by a hop, and a hand to the wrist, but the knife still finds flesh, slicing deep into the man's forarm.

"I don't have time for this shit!"

Around a corner Domino goes, then she stops short. There's..other guys here. Suddenly closing in around her.

''Oh yeah... The Hand's here.''

"Were you kids starting to feel left out?"

She can hear the singing of steel through the air before it cleaves her in two, whipping around and catching the flat of the sword's blade with her boot. Her stubby auto rifle starts thundering away, clipping but not killing the one in front of her. Again a knife comes into her hand, though she ends up throwing it in the opposite direction of what it seemed she had been setting herself up for.

For her efforts she takes a pair of shuriken in the back. Then her feet get swept out from beneath her.

Then one of the guys gets his head blasted apart by a .30 caliber rifle shot. Another gets the top of his foot stapled to the docks, the edge of her blade neatly wedging itself between a pair of concrete slabs.

Spin, kick, back on her feet, Crunch! as she takes a foot to the face, slamming backward into another guy who accidentally swings his arm back and slices his neighbor's gut open with his sword.

A sniper shot from one of the boats snaps past her jaw, nicking a neat red line across her neck before it catches the swordmaster in the sternum behind her.

Instinct drives her once more, snapping her rifle around to clock another in the temple as her off-hand catches the sword before it could fall from dead fingers. A flash of steel here, a burst of gunfire there, and she's left standing in the center of dead Hand thugs, covered in fresh injuries.

(Keep moving, Dom!)

It's a move out of Indiana Jones. Nick will swear to it to his dying day. Or rather, to their dying day, which is today. The ninja before him is bleeding profusely in the forearm, life's blood dripping to the ground, and still goes for the attack. In a silent run that would make any dojo sensei proud, the attack is pressed, feet flying in the air, following it up with a hammer fist to the side of his ribs. There's a look of surprise by his attacker then; his opponent is armored.. and it's only a split second later that a small pistol emerges and is in Nick's hand. It's not there for a flicker before two sharp reports come, then one.

Even ninja's die.

Nick finally manages a look around, and he's a little worse for wear. Though as he searches the aisles of containers at a lope, his pistol reholstered and his AKM back in hand, he's not finding the--

Oh.. crap.

A shrill, sharp whistle sounds from Fury's lips, and he pulls out the iPhone once again. If he's got her attention, there'll be a gesture to come towards him. They still have a crane to take out!

Yeah, about that crane... What is Domino supposed to take it down with, exactly? A NATO-standard battle rifle and foul language? She doesn't have any of her gear for set charges, and she didn't have any time to make such preparations. A runaway sedan (which is now on its way to the bottom of the bay) isn't going to do so much as scratch one of those giant mobile pillars.

In other words, what the fuck?

Too bad she couldn't ram one of the ships into it, but she doesn't have that sort of time nor odds. She knows what the chances are, it's not happening.

She also knows the odds of these guys having bigger, nastier weapons nearby. Where's a rocket launcher when you need one?

(Push, Domino. Work that luck!)

The echoing slams of rapid pistol fire announces her passage through the containers, sprinting full-tilt out into the open. Three shots here, eight shots there, a leap and roll to neatly dodge a sniper's bullet--There!--it's only a hundred yards out, she can do this, she can make it--FUCK pistols are dry!--pistols holstered, another acquired 9mm taking their place, another cross-shot cutting a wound in her stomach--(C'mon, you scrawny white bitch, time this shit!)

Up ahead another launcher is being produced. Leveled. Searching for a target.

Domino.

He forgot part of the arming sequence. By the time the trigger's hot there's a blood-slicked albino in his face, the last round in the pistol's chamber taking him point-blank in the heart before falling from her hand, momentum driving her into the guy like a cannonball. In just a second she spins around with the man, drops him, dips her shoulder to catch the launcher out of his hands, then comes right back around with the tube primed and ready over her shoulder.

One pull of the trigger. One rocket. One obliterated crane pillar.

One sniper bullet through the ribs.

The warhead explodes before the merc drops to a hand and knee, the spent launcher falling from her numbed fingers.

Nick hits the key-sequence of the iPhone again, and pockets it again before he reaches for a pocket to reload. He's at the end of ammo for the AKM, but that's okay.

It's the sprinting that gains Nick's attention, and a low, slow whistle sounds as she barrels out, doing her thing. It's pretty damned amazing, and there's that part of him that is actually glad he hired her. Tomorrow he'll change his mind, he's sure.

Jesus Christ.. Nick stares at the tableau, moving, but keeping his one good eye on it all. The moment Domino goes down, the man is barreling towards her, spraying what he's got left before clicking dry. Reaching out, he makes to grab her, pulling her into an arm, and lifting her off the ground to make a run for it to the end of the docks where he knows there's a boat waiting.

"Getting the hell out of here in three... two... one..." Rather than flash-bangs, there comes those delightful C4 explosions, one after another after another after another. Containers rip open, steel flying into the sky and landing heavily in surrounding, spilling their contents out into the small causeways. Shouts come now, and if one listens carefully, there are female voices rising in the mix now. Chinese and high-pitched, screaming at the top of their lungs at their backs.

Two things which Domino did not expect. Nick Fury running with her over his shoulder. Nick Fury coming back to pull her ass out of the fire.

"I'm fine, damnit!" she spits out, pulling out one of her sidearms and a fresh magazine even while he's running out of there with her in tow.

As if to prove her point she starts taking shots from behind, struggling to level the one gun within both hands. It's far from ideal, but she can still fight, darnit!

It gives her a great view of the crane as it begins its majestic deconstruction across the docks and part of a nearby freighter. There, too, is a sound which she could never forget. (If steel could feel pain...)

When the C4 goes all she can do is grunt and shield her face once more, precious seconds completely lost in the utter demolition of so many of those containers. There's nothing left to see or do, all one can do is ride the heated shockwaves and let the soundwaves rattle them to their core. People, human and mutant alike, simply aren't built to be exposed to so much chemical rage.

With her ears still ringing away, Dom shouts "Put me down, already!" The smaller woman's willpower is the stuff of legends, though once the fight is fully over with? That's another story.

It is a cacophony; the sounds of a port's demise. The anguished sounds of a crane as it begins to fall brings a hand to Nick's ears. The shouts of those remaining are heard as if through a tunnel, and they're getting more and more distant. Nick's attention is on the pier before them.. and he's trying to run, though Domino is making it more than a little difficult.

The sharp reports of her gun brings him to a halt, or rather, slower jog as he begins to loosen his hold on her. "We have to go. Now. Rendez-vous is coming up in a little under an hour." Time schedules.

(That's it, feet on the ground, come on!)

That indomitable will is the only thing keeping Domino upright. Moving. Conscious. She was built to be a weapon, any thoughts of personal need are put aside for the matters of survival and victory, regardless of the odds.

"Come on!" she screams aloud, her lone gun darting from one target to another, each one earning a bullet, most of them striking above shoulder-height. "Bring it, fuckers!" BLAM-BLAM-BLAM! "Thought this was a fight!"

Speaking of perceiving the outside world through a tunnel... She's doing a wonderful job of covering their retreat. She's even keeping up with Fury, more or less. But, his words fall on deaf ears. She's too busy shooting.

And swearing.

And reloading.

And shooting some more.

Her luck's still working, if the sniper with the rifle exploding in his hands and carving up his face is any indication.

There's time for fun, and there's time to go. There's a moment that crosses that threshold from one to the other, and that time has come. Fury's got an empty AKM, but he's got the one last grenade to be launched. The lucky winner of that one is to the black car that is careening, fishtailing as it tries to bid a hasty retreat. The landing of the ordinance is rather remarkable, and the car flips over in the explosion of it's back end, end over end.

"It's time to go!" is given through gritted teeth.. and there's another sweep of his arm in order to grab the now single-minded merc. One, two, three large steps are taken to the pier's edge, and throwing the AKM again, takes a large leap off the side into the water with the merc in his arms, now held in both.


 * SPLASH!!*

And there.. maybe ten yards further down, a zodiak sits empty. It's not empty for long. From the far side of the inflatable boat, two men rise from the water in rebreather gear, and slides into the boat from the far side. Peeling off their masks, it becomes obvious that they are SHIELD.. or at least allies as they hit the engines to pick up the pair.

There's nothing quite like a good, solid shock to the system to break a person out of a murderous rampage. Cold saltwater. Lots of fresh wounds.

Then again, Domino's still snapping off shots until completely swallowed up by the bay, though even then one more shot slams out of a completely submerged pistol to a trail of thin bubbles.

Adrenaline and endorphins alone cannot staunch the rush of searing nerves, so many points upon her body screaming at her in blind, united agony.

When her head breaks the water's surface it does so with a stifled gasp and a heart-felt "Fuck!" Somehow, with help, she ends up in the boat. She doesn't remember getting there, or when she finally gets around to yanking that pair of shuriken out of her back. The part that she remembers is being laid out on her back, empty gun in hand, arm covering her eyes against the coming of the sun, breathing in quick, ragged breaths. Quietly bleeding out inside of the small boat.

"Buncha grade-A assholes, that lot..."

Fury helps the merc get comfortable and begins first aid, staunching the bleeding as best as he can as the zodiak begins to cut the water in high speed. They have miles to go to reach their connection, and only so much time. "Yeah.. but they're gonna have a hell of a time fighting the Russkies about it," comes wryly before he shakes his head. He doesn't look great, but he's a damned sight better off than the lucky merc.

If this was lucky?

"I was pretty impressed." Nick nods once before he looks to the pair driving the boat. "Radio ahead. We'll need medical assistance."

"Yessir. There's one on board. Just in case." That comes a little hesitantly from one of the men, and he looks away quickly. It wasn't authorized.. but it was done anyway.

The Director grunts, his jaw shifting as he reaches into his pocket. His hand is pulled out almost immediately, loose tobacco leaves sticking to his hand. Soaked, loose tobacco leaves.

"Aw, shit."