2013.09.03 - Mission First

Bodyslide by two!

And there they are. The place is dark in areas, lit only by the emergency lighting. It seems sterile, not as 'academic' perhaps as the other place only blocks away is. There's a decided professionalism, far and away beyond those grant blocks that trickle money in here and there.

Those lights off aren't a cost savings. No. It's more, no one is using this section of the building tonight. Offices, no doubt.

Now, the feeling of the place causes the mutant to pull his shotgun immediately. Eyes cast around, and as they stand there, doors open and close, seemingly of their own accord.

It's a trick Nate likes to play. He could scan for minds, sure... but it's easier to smoke people out by making them curious. Pure thoughts there when those that he's scanning are surprised.

~ There are levels to this place. ~ The touch sends with it his own measure of surprise, though there's no less determination. More to go.

It's a determined look that comes to Nate's face, and he begins to move forward, his progress assured. Down the hall, there are the *tinkling* sounds of broken glass. Camera lenses are crushed, courtesy of one friendly neighborhood telekenetic.

~ Rig the doors we go through to blow on our signal. ~ And that includes the elevators.

~There's always levels. It just wouldn't be a secret facility without the 'secret,' would it.~

Despite all of the guns that Domino's dragging with tonight, it's the matte black .44 that she favors for indoor use. The Negev has a shortened barrel but it's still overkill for the back rooms in a lab. Nate's already rocking a shotgun, she keeps hers with the impossibly short barrel strictly for doors and emergencies. Between the two of them they now have both crowd control and precision aim immediately covered. What more could they ask for within close quarters?

Explosives, of course.

~On it.~

She actually has to catch herself before adding the thought 'cover me.' After the kinds of people she had been working alongside she's made it a habit. Better safe than sorry, and all.

~About what size would you like the average piece of debris to be tonight, Wingnut? We can do anywhere from 'Cadillac' to 'marble' and most everything in between.~

There is no actual moment of 'silence' from the large man, but there is decided that feeling of a response in the form of ~ ... ~, though there is no heaviness to it. It's more a mental facepalm than anything else, which is actually followed by a soft but audible chuckle. (And that is why I keep her around.)

Steeling himself with an expression that befits the location in which they find themselves, those bits of glass on the ground are almost pulverized. Pausing at one of them just before they reach the elevator, Nate gestures down. ~ Reasonably small. Nothing that'll cost the city too much in removal. No special equipment. ~ Always thinking of the innocents.

Pausing at the elevator, he turns around, his gaze moving down the hall they'd just come. ~ In first. ~ That'll give her the chance to lay the charge as he comes in and deals with the controls.

As the door closes, Nate drops his gaze to the floor and scowls. "Eleven and two." Calling the shots. When the door opens, it will begin.

Some people leave others breathless. Some leave them speechless. Is it good or bad that she can leave Cable at such a loss that he can't even think of a response?

(You've still got it, Dom.)

~You think they're gonna put down money to clean up any of this? If they had that amount of funding they would have cleaned up the messes left by everyone else. Ugh, lemme turn it up to eleven and we'll go from 'marble' to 'sand.'~

As Cable takes point Dom leaves behind a string of potent demolition charges, ready to vaporize the path that they've taken.

When the door closes and the heads up is given she automatically tosses the magnum into her left hand, knowing how he's going to favor taking the right side with his shotgun. "Got your eleven."

Ding!

BAM!

Thankfully, they're spared the muzak that other places seem to favour. Any way to spend extra money so they're allocated again next fiscal year! The Beatles catalog, after all, can get pretty pricey. Even as muzak.

Nate would probably shoot the speakers anyway. So, with no waste of ammunition, he is more than ready to--

Ding!

The barrel of the shotgun was already levelled, and at the same time, the two weapons fire off, the report loud in the corridor. At the same time, though drowned out by the weapons fire, is the tinkling of small bits of glass as it hits the tiled floor. All cameras are offline.

And, with a step out of the elevator, doors in the corridor that are open are now slamming shut, one after another after another after another.

~ Cryo for samples on the left. Labs with centrafuges. On the right, systems. ~Nate goes down the hall, and there are now people banging on the doors, rapid poundings.

(Clockwork.)

The click of a plastic hull is met with the chime of .44 brass just outside of the elevator as the two move forward, Domino keeping her shoulders turned to keep the bulky pistol forward and her center body mass angled as a smaller target (and to give Nate extra room, because damn. Guy's had his Wheaties.)

The cameras breaking? No problem. The doors sealing shut? Used to it. That people are banging on the other side of those doors?

~They're locking everyone down. I don't like this, Nate. These guys're willing to sacrifice half of their workforce to keep something from getting out.~

Where to go is a no-brainer to her. Systems. If everything's locked then logic dictates that the way to unlock everything would come from there. She's only got so much explosive material, after all.

~On your eight. Where you wanna hit first?~

There is a decided comfort to be gained when working together in a team. Both work as an extension of the other, giving both far more reach than either of them have alone. Even Nate prefers having two more hands, two more eyes, and one more remarkable, discerning brain.

~ Lockdown. ~ He doesn't sound surprised by it either. He's on the move, looking very much like he doesn't care how much or how little a target he presents. It's all in the presence of the man; that's a big part of his offensive strike. ~ Systems. ~ To the right.

Cable looks at the first door, and considers before he goes down to the second. The banging on the doors continue to pound a cadence into the hallway even as Nate points to the door in question. "This one--"

Even as he speaks, there is a soft 'hisssssss' sound that comes from the ceiling. No alarm sounds. No red, flashing lights are lit. Just... a soft sound of air moving through the vents.

"-- and quickly."

Domino doesn't need powers of luck to know which door Cable's going to choose for them to breach first. No nod follows, no words, not even a thought communicated. The pistol gets holstered and she's just there, reaching for the necessary gear to blast it open.

Right in time to hear the sound of gas being vented into the hallway.

"Shit. I guess you can't just telekinetically push this thing open? Or ..I don't know. Punch it?" she asks with a semi-hopeful uptone, thumbing the stabilized wad of compound into place.

(There's people on the other side of that door.)

"Anyone here not expendable?" she asks in a cold, detached voice while setting the detonator into place. She could rap on the door, yell out a warning, do something to get the attention of the people on the other side.

Or, she could send a solid metal door flying into their faces with a pressure difference capable of causing some internal hemorrhaging all of its own. Either way.

With the charges set she swiftly hops back to her feet and hurries away from the door, flattening herself against the wall as the detonator comes up in her hand. With a flick of her thumb the cap pops off the end and clicks to the floor, pale blue eyes peering once more at Cable. Whatever his decision may be...

(Time's up.)

Click.

KAWHAM!

"No mutants." That's declaration enough as far as Nate is concerned regarding the dispensation of those on the other side of the door. More often than not, he'll give the mutants a chance to get the hell out.

Once.

After that? All bets are off.

A tight smile is leveled at his partner, and he shrugs. "Nowhere near a statement as some explosives." And he wants to make a point.

Moving just as quickly to the other side, Nate waits for the explosion, and the door swings open, barely hanging upon the heavy duty hinges. Stepping out first, the shotgun is levelled, and as one middleaged man is headed to his terminal, Nate catches him in the chest, sending him flying, blood spattering in all directions, covering the keyboards and monitors behind him. Another man is moving as well, but it looks as if he's trying to get through the door. Him, he'll let Dom get.

It's a couple long steps before Nate sits down in front of one of the unbloodied terminals, and begins to plug into the system. He's looking through the security systems first as he catches the gasps of some of those in the other offices in his head. "You've got two minutes.." before potentially succumbing.

Nate lifts his head, not looking at the screen as he works on the system. Within the next ten seconds, that hiss begins to subside, and there's a new set of fan-sounds that turn on. Scrubbers.

"I didn't want to have to carry you out."

Then, back to business, and his voice is low. "I'll give you fifteen seconds to get into place. You get the rooms on the left. Each will be on a five second timer. Anyone in there, gone. I want those rooms rigged to a ten minute timer." Nothing left. Not even for him.

"I'll follow in thirty seconds." And then they start looking for the -experimentation labs-.

As that one guy goes running past the giant of a man with a shotgun he's got enough time to round the corner and come nearly face to face with the gaping maw of a gas-operated magnum.

And the cold grin of an albino woman behind it.

"Hey. No more overtime."

BAM!

(Silver linings,) she dismissively thinks while taking long strides around the body in order to sweep back into the room a moment behind Cable. He can contain any trouble that might come their way until she rejoins him.

When it comes down to unarmored technicians versus 12 gauge buckshot, she's always going to vote for the 12 gauge.

Seconds later Cable's already got the air scrubbers working in overtime.

"I can't carry you out."

The next part of the gameplan is quickly established. Several rooms, unknown headcount, destroy everything. Right. The magnum stays in her left hand. The right reaches around to heft the Negev into position upon her shoulder, flicking the fire selector from 'safe' to 'fun.'

"Just start the clock."

Door one.

The Negev chews through brass so quickly it's impossible to tell when one shot ends and another begins. Electronics, furniture, and technicians get shredded to pieces amidst a spray of papers, glass, sparks, and spent brass. The deafening cacophony starts from silence and ends with the clinking of dozens of casings rolling all over creation, handfuls of 5.56 NATO for every .44 mag.

(Mark.)

Door two.

Door three.

No bodycount is given. The number doesn't matter. Only one person is left standing: The woman in possession of the firepower.

Nate's part in this is the computer systems. He's jacked in, and downloading every last shred before uploading it to 'Ship' to be looked at a little more closely later.

Time is money.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Nate grins and tosses back, ~ Missing the dates in the gym again? ~ Of course she can't carry him out. He takes at least four men. And even then, it's not a comfortable carry for the man involved. But by that point, does he really care?

The sound of the Negev is like music to his ears. He can hear the changes of the sounds as the bullets strike different targets.

Electronics.

Nope, that's wood. Flesh. (The shouts on that one is a dead giveaway.)

He's waiting on the download, and as his time grows to a close, he uploads a virus; it'll wipe out the system, and every terminal that is attached. If someone has access from home? Heh. No more. Gone. (But lo and behold, Nate will have access so all is not lost, oh bad guy!)

Coming out of the room now, Nate has his shotgun in hand again, and he's cracked it, loading his shells. "Grant money's dried up, shutting the place down for non-payment of research dues!" is bellowed. (As if that's such a thing? Moreso, as if there is anyone left alive on this floor that'll actually hear him?)

"Stairs, going down." He looks back at Domino, and he can't help but offer a grim smile. "Here's where it gets really nasty. There's going to be resistance."

But he's got the computers rigged too. Before they shut down for the virus, they'll be running a routine. Lights will flicker on and off in rooms, giving off something of a disco effect, as well as doors opening and closing. Except for the main experimentation lab. That.. that will be locked until Nate says otherwise.

All that information is given wordlessly to his partner. That all ends with, ~ Five seconds per cycle. ~

"When you say the grant money's dried up, you mean to say it's dried up because it somehow found its way into our accounts, right?"

"I can be really nasty, too," Domino effortlessly replies, dropping the empty double drum magazine from the machine gun while reaching for another. "Some resistance training is good for the body." (Keep your head out of the gutter.)

"North labs are a tomb, fireball pending." He did say to rig them to a ten minute timer. She's not going to waste time trying to figure out how many seconds have passed, it's only the last sixty that really matter, and the last half of those sixty that's actually worth paying attention to.

Five second cycles. ~Why do you insist on holding me back?~ comes her next focused thought, meant more as friendly banter while on the job. She may not realize that it's happening, her mind is in its own little place. If she realizes that she's trailing little patches of blood around beneath the tread of her boots she's at least choosing to ignore that much.

"Level three: Hellish abominations and illegal genetic research."

"Hope I got the spelling of your name right," comes as a counter as Nate begins to take the stairs two by two, sweeping as he does. He -knows- there's no one in there, but the place is a mutant research lab. Could be something he's as of yet unfamiliar with. Or at least not expecting. "Or it's going to a stray cat foundation."

Yeah. Nate isn't that nice.

Her quip regarding how nasty she can be earns the albino merc an actual, genuine laugh. It's quick, there and gone, but it does actually make an appearance. "Yes you can." Beat. "Should I agree with you so quickly?"

That'll earn him some sort of reaction, hopefully later, and any look that may be spared to come his way will simply be given one of the more 'innocent' of return expressions. As if the man can actually fashion one of those?

Not likely.

At the bottom of the stairwell, Nate looks back, and scowls, his attention focusing on the woman as he tries to determine the extent and scope of injury. No favouring. No appearant issue with any bloodloss, but he'll watch that, and closely.

~ Because five seconds are a nice round number when I start on twelve. We could go to three, but then it's bothersome until we get to the quarter marks... ~ So says the math whiz.

Even as he projects, the computer system begins its program, and it's true. It does look as if the local AI has gone a little nuts, and the doors begin to open and shut on a different cycle. There are people coming out into the hallways, and immediately Cable takes to the right side, his shotgun up and making loud and heavy noises in the corridor, the sound reverberating. Again, camera lens begin to crack and fall away. No one is watching as those red lights blink out. Nate waves a hand, waving Domino forward as he covers her before they're ready to hed into one of the first--

Holy shit.. chamber.

Within a large room, there are several vats.. best description of the thing. Vats with some sort of treatment fluid within. And in one of those vats, there is a humanoid figure fully immersed. Eyes are closed, but the chest is moving as if breathing, or simulating breathing. But there are no hoses. At one of the consoles, the scientist is looking up and towards the door in alarm. Of course, the lights, the fact that the monitors keep flickering on and off might have something to do with it.

"Get him out!" is yelled as Cable strides forward, his coat fluttering. "Now!"

"But I can't- he'll..."

The moment the words 'I can't' exit the man's mouth, Nate turns his back. As far as he's concerned now, the man is meat. He gives a chance. After that? There's no time.

~ I'll get him out. ~ Domino gets to take the scientist out and rig the place. While she's doing that, Nate will also be keeping an eye on the door to cover her back for those seconds to lay the charge.

"Don't tease me like that," Domino flatly replies while hurrying along. She keeps pace, two stairs at a time. Not a problem. "Not that I have anything against cats, Felix did come in handy that one night, but I'm a selfish bitch."

Following the laugh, she offers back "I might be more concerned if you had to think on it for a while." He won't see the smirk while she's following behind him, but it's there. Merc banter, uncivilized on so many levels.

That look. Dom knows that look. "I'm fine," she says with a tired sounding sigh. The blood. On her boot. It's from the mob of scientists and technicians that she mowed into with the chaingun. "Just because I cause accidents to happen doesn't mean that I'm accident-prone."

~Fine. I'll keep using those extra two seconds to think about how amazing I am.~

Why is Cable taking cover? Short answer: To give way for Domino. These guys aren't fighting back. It almost seems unsporting, but in the back of her thoughts she knows why they're doing this. With Nate the means justifies the ends. Always. One person's endless slaughter is another timeline's complete salvation. It's not something that can possibly be explained to a normal sense of morality, but even with her conscience she continues to break even.

It's good for her. It's good for Nate. It's bad for everyone else.

And now she's in a chamber.~Damn, here we go.~

Five seconds? Three seconds. And half of one for the man she's got her sights on. A twist of the body, a leveling of the Desert Eagle, and another explosive report leaves the one yelling man to catch two hundred and forty grains' worth of JHP to the forehead, throwing him backward as harshly as if he just took a roundhouse kick to the nose.

'Meat' is an appropriate description.

It's a much bigger room. Charge placement requires a bit more thought, and a bit more charge. She's up to the challenge all the same, and can tackle that challenge without having to worry about keeping an eye on anyone but herself.

This is what they do.

"Concerned about my sanity? Concerned that you're not doing it right and you have to step up your game?"

Nate is on the move again. He's got a scan going of the entire downstairs now; he can feel everyones progress in the rooms as he gets to the console. Plugging in to get a direct line in, he swears softly as he lifts a hand.. without the shotgun. A split second later, there is the form and figure of a man flying through the room and being slammed against the wall. Crumpling to the floor, he's not moving, a bit of blood coming out the side of his mouth.

Through all of that, Nate doesn't appear to be distracted at his station.

Lights flash. Red lights on the tank. Red, glaring lights that seem to announce some bad  thing.

In the tank, the fluid begins to drain slowly, and the lights go from red to yellow as the level drains. The form within the tank is slowly being (somewhat) revealed; his skintone isn't quite peach. It's more a pink as if the entire body was sunburned just a little. As the fluid drains more, there is obviously no tone to the humanoids muscles.

At green, Nate rushes forward to look at the now 'freed' being.

Lifting his head up once again towards the door, that bionic eye flashes, and immediately, there's a woman just outside with a taser in hand. She's no longer there as the weapon is torn free from her hand.. and the floating weapon is used against her, sending volts through her body and rendering her unable to move.

"We'll have to come back for him, Dom." Nate will be marking the room.

And it's on to the next!

"Concerned that it might cost me a bullet if you lose what's left of your sanity."

When that one guy goes flying across the room thanks to a helpful telekinetic grab Domino resists the urge to yell 'Pull!' and take a shot. That, too, would have cost her a bullet. It would also be highly unnecessary, though kind of fun.

At the end of the day that's the part that really matters. Otherwise she might lose her sanity.

Off in the room there is another tell-tale report of that monstrous pistol being touched off once more, someone else trying to interrupt her work in a rare combination of realizing what it is that she's doing and finding his own spine.

With the tank drained it's plenty obvious to her as well that they aren't going to be able to just grab the guy and make a run for it. They'll have to double-back on their way out the door, 'bodyslide by three.'

"Yeah," she simply replies both in acknowledgement and agreement. (Hold tight, kiddo.) Practiced motions drop the spent magazine from the magnum's grip, catching it and swapping it out for a full load. Those mags aren't the cheapest in the world. "Room's tagged." CHAK! And ready to explode.

She's happy to take point while on their way to the next lab, or chamber, or whatever the hell it ends up being. Those few that stand in their way don't stay there for long as heavy, fast moving projectiles catch them and practically throw them about.

If one of those shell casings happens to bounce off of Nate's head along the way, well... It happens. These guns like to spit 'em high and wide.

Barging into the next room Dom's got the Negev back in her primary hand, letting loose with very abrupt bursts as she clears the way for what's waiting for them next.

"It'll take more than one bullet," comes the answer as Cable is moving things out of the way now and setting his own bits of technical destruction. He's got all the files from earlier.

Now, as Domino takes point, it frees Nate up to do quick checks. The doors are still doing their five second dances, as well as the lights. Things are going on the fritz; nothing being given enough to full boot, or to fully shut down. If they weren't going to blow the place, they'd have to replace all their hardware anyway!

It's the room sweep that comes as second nature by now. There are no more vats; it's biochem lab after molecular bio lab after--

While it's not at the 'end', end of the corridor, that last bit that they're going to be in to does take up a fair sized footprint. The door is closed... and opens... and closed...

~ Mutants behind the door, and they're willing to fight. They're-- ~

That thought abruptly ends, unfinished as his gun is leveled at the door. "Supressors." Not 'inhibitors', mind. It's more the feeling of molasses... having to work harder for the same effect.

"Challenge accepted," Dom offers back.

The lights and doors going all crazy is disorienting, and distracting. And creepy. "Gees Nate, could you have made this place feel any more demented? It's like Hell's funhouse down here."

She can feel it when the thought gets cut short. She's experienced this a time or two before, not all that long ago. Like an extra line of communication from her brain to her spine is just ..put to sleep. That internal trigger which keeps her out of harm's way and guides her aim when probability is about to get warped in her favor.

Gone.

"Sonuvabitch! This gets real old!"

So, a room full of unknown sleepy powered mutants. An X-Gene suppressor within the vicinity, probably to pacify the 'subjects' contained within. Limited time.

"Willing to fight? Cable--" she suddenly adds then stops herself short, pinning the guy with a wide, pale stare. If their powers are being suppressed...

"Hang back. I've got this."

The concern in her stare is real. No powers, no telekinesis. No telekinesis, nothing holding the T-O virus back.

The hall's cleared behind them, even with the wiggy doors still opening and closing, the lights in the hall flaring like disco lights. As much as flourescent can, anyway. Cable looks back to Dom, that hint of a satisfied smile hiding below a decidedly determined and somewhat grim regard. "Working, isn't it? And you -know- me."

His shotgun is levelled at the wild door, and the reality of that certainly isn't lost on him. He's not afraid; there isn't an ounce of fear in the man. He just gets more intense, and even without that all-encompassing feel of the big guy, surely Domino wouldn't miss the hardening of his back, the tightening of muscles in his resolve.

"I got the count before they took me offline, Dom. There's three of them." Plus a couple of techs. "Suppressor's on the wall-- You can't.."

Hang back, I've got this?!

Stepping forward, Nate's ready to offer up coverfire, "Mind melder.. I'll do what I can to keep a shield for you.." Or take her out completely. And he's ticking off the others. "Teek. Genius metamorph."

Meeting those ice blue eyes, he murmurs, "I'm not out of this yet," before he waits for her count. She's got lead on this one.

"Yeah," Domino admits with another weary sigh. "I know you."

Once more the gameplan is hammered out and the smallest of nods is given. She has her priorities. Suppression field emitter, or whatever's responsible for that mess. Techs are secondary, depending solely upon their actions. Ignore some. Put down others. If they stay out of her way then she could care less, they can go up with the rest of this facility. Saves on ammo. She turns to look at Nate once more, lightly tapping the bridge of her nose with the top of the magnum's barrel before turning back to the room with squared shoulders.

Don't count on luck. Instinct, sure. Luck, no.

Immediate targets are identified and put down, the .44 slamming out its single note of execution as she presses forward into the room and the mental fog that it provides.

(Think, Dom. Before you got to this room what would you have put the odds on for generating that signal?)

Her power may not work that way. Really, she doesn't know. But, she does know what does tend to work.

(Fudge it.)

Once more the Negev lights up with pure, indiscriminate property damage. Consoles, relays, monitors, conduits, generators, amplifiers, dehumidifiers, if it has a power light on it she makes sure that it goes out and stays out.

Get the three mutants out. They're willing to fight, right? Hopefully they're willing to fight for these two and not against! Just have to cross that bridge when they get to it.

The moment Domino steps into the room, her own fire is echoed with the loud booming of Nate's shotgun. While some lights go out, there's an awful lot of richocet and sparks generated that outshine those blinky, operational lights. As he enters slowly behind her, he's taking aim, and calling out, "On three, switch!" Reloading has to happen, and Nate is more than aware that the emptying of clips will be happening a lot.

With the surpression getting a hit, two hits, many hits, Cable can feel himself coming back online, as it were. The small gains of the virus, across the forehead, across his chest, are pulled back. He's not yet remade contact, but he's moving.. agile and fast.

It's the mind melder that Cable's up against first, taking on a psi.. and he growls a warning,

"Give it up or you're going up in.." Oh hey, "Five minutes." He could be wrong. Could be sooner than that!

The female, a red head (because, why not?) dubbed 'Mind melder' stops short when reaching out to twist Nate's head around. She'd thought she'd gotten a way in, but now? Locked up tight.

Instead, then, in that second of discourse, she goes after Domino's. Twinge, and the feeling of something trying it's damndest to get through starts, burrowing like a determined worm into the ground, trying to find a spot to call 'home'. If prolonged, it'd certainly be a good cause for a headache. But, Nate's on it, and even as he checks that psychic shift, he's got his shotgun up and aimed, doing double duty. Domino might be able to feel the fact that her head could be considered 'Belgium'.

Grimly, Nate offers that last chance through clenched teeth. "Drop it and you live."

Three. Two. One.

-BLAM-

(Guess that answers that!)

Sure, reloading -could- happen. Or, Dom could just switch to a different set of weapons. Either way! She's not terribly picky there.

Little by little she, too, starts to feel more like herself and less like her X-Gene had been replaced with a jar full of marshmallow fluff. Now the bigger problem is that at least one of those three mutants isn't planning on fighting with them, after all. And they've just made her power that much stronger.

Habits die hard. Dom's still not a fan of psychics, and less a fan of having people rooting around within her thoughts. She feels it when it happens. She -knows- she's not alone, and that it's not Nate sharing residence in there this time around.

A strained growl quickly comes out of the albino, forgoing reloading in favor of the as of yet unfired ten millimeters tucked under her arms.

In the same instant that Cable's shotgun tears into Mind Melder there's a momentary wall of two hundred grain hollowpoints joining in, one mutant woman marching toward the other as a matched set of pistols drum off shots briskly enough to rival the fire rate of a submachine gun.

"-My- head, -not- yours!"

Stopped for the moment she doesn't look so much as raise one of those match-grade pistols straight out to her side, happening to stop an inch away from a technician's face.

A second later there's the clatter of a taser falling from loosened fingers, the tech slowly backing away.

~You back with me, Nate?~

It was a battle for Domino's mind, and while Cable could hold his own, there was a whole lot more going on, inside and out. She wasn't completely defenseless, but it was less than Nate would have liked. Fortunately, death seems to have taken care of that problem and rather quickly.

Swinging his shotgun around at the same time as Domino does towards the tech as if the barrels were somehow syncronized, the sound of the metal and plastic meeting tile floor is a welcome one.

~ Here. ~ It's a touch, a familiar one. Warm one. And at the same time, he's focussed. His bearings have been gained, and he's ready.

Now, Nate looks around, and as his weapon comes up to bear, the teek starts a barrage of throwing all those bits of detritus at the pair in a rain of metal and wire. He has to put up his own shield in order to be sure the bits bounce off him and should Dom remember to stay close, but it is an onslaught. And also means he can't get to the shapeshifter.

It's that mutant that has to be stopped. The one that is sprouting some inhuman claws, shifting into something resembling tougher skin, and begins to shriek before leaping up on the tables, ready to attack.

~ It has to be a headshot, Dom. ~

It was a battle for Domino's mind, and while Cable could hold his own, there was a whole lot more going on, inside and out. She wasn't completely defenseless, but it was less than Nate would have liked. Fortunately, death seems to have taken care of that problem and rather quickly.

Swinging his shotgun around at the same time as Domino does towards the tech as if the barrels were somehow syncronized, the sound of the metal and plastic meeting tile floor is a welcome one.

~ Here. ~ It's a touch, a familiar one. Warm one. And at the same time, he's focussed. His bearings have been gained, and he's ready.

Now, Nate looks around, and as his weapon comes up to bear, the teek starts a barrage of throwing all those bits of detritus at the pair in a rain of metal and wire. He has to put up his own shield in order to be sure the bits bounce off him and should Dom remember to stay close, but it is an onslaught. And also means he can't get to the shapeshifter.

It's that mutant that has to be stopped. The one that is sprouting some inhuman claws, shifting into something resembling tougher skin, and begins to shriek before leaping up on the tables, ready to attack.

~ It has to be a headshot, Dom. ~

(Great.) ~I thought you said these guys were willing to fight, did you forget to tell me they were planning on fighting -us?!-~

Now they're getting assaulted by whatever was lying loose in the room. After tearing apart so much equipment there's no shortage of sharp-edged debris! There's also a shapeshifter with a real bad attitude. (Didn't I already see that morph through the lens of a scope a mile out..? Do these guys have a seminar where they all trade notes on generic creepy monsters or something?)

Ducking within Cable's TK shield seems like the best option at first. Too much debris and too many sharp pointy stabby bits coming their way for her to shoot every one of their problems. "The fuck, you two?! We're trying to save you guys!"

(We don't have time for this.)

Once more a ten auto slams out, aimed square at the shapechanger's head. The round glances off of its armored plating and goes sailing out across the room in all of its deformed glory.

"Ah, hell. Keep doing your thing, there's more than one way to do this."

One of the other ways involves blades. Something to slip between the jointed segments of armor.

(There comes a time in every mutant's life where they have to ask themselves, 'what would Wolverine do?')

One tiny little albino, completely decked out in weaponry, comes leaping out of Cable's shield toward the shapeshifter with a blade clutched within each of her hands. "RAAAUGH!"

~ I thought I'd made that clear? ~

(Guess not. Classes in communication will start in the next week or so at the community college.)

It is true. There's a time for hiding behind a tk shield, and a time for saying 'screw it' and get moving. That time, as 'explained' by the fair albino, is now. As she begins to move, her agility something to be remarked upon (later, with a drink in hand), Nate himself is getting ready to go.

Pushing forward, the shotgun is going to be virtually useless in his hand as a slug thrower. Striking out at some of the bits and pieces to actively deflect, he's sure on the approach that there isn't going to be much that'll get through.

The weapon is exchanged for a chain; weapon for links, and he starts to swing it before he lets it fly.

It's at that moment when the first charge upstairs goes off. It's set 'down the hall' and up a level, so the explosions that rock only manage to rain some bits of ceiling. It's a heavy charge, however, and there's no little reverberation that strikes through the walls, shaking things up.

It's that rocking as if the building is suffering from a serious earthquake.

(Didn't someone say something about paying attention to charges when they're in their last 30 seconds?)

~If you had made it clear I wouldn't have wasted time shooting techish gizmos first!~

Domino may have thought something about those last thirty seconds. Which probably means that Cable overheard it, because he's kind of a jerk like that. The first of the explosions going off is a definite reminder of that moment. Soon this whole facility is going to be a smouldering crater in the ground.

With every second the odds are mounting up against them. Then she goes and does something crazy like throw herself headlong at the other mutant with nothing but some knives in her hands. It's one of those perfect storm moments where all of the elements align. Dom's luck will have something to say. Just what that might happen to be is anyone's guess.

It's also taking its sweet time. Both blades are easily deflected by the other creature. The albino, armaments aside, is a much softer target. Her own armor helps to turn away blades but it doesn't stop them from getting through if they're sharp or determined enough. In short order she's got a few diagonal gashes taking shape here, there, and everywhere. The shapeshifter still has to fight for each one.

At least it keeps her safe from having things thrown at her, right?

Except for when one of her blades catches the shifted mutant in the eye. There's a positively horrific shriek, then the TK mutant takes a chance to sling the merc across the room, smashing through the thicker glass of a holding tank with an abrupt yelp.

In that same instant a weakened slab of concrete breaks free from above, the coming detonations of so many set charges dropping an SUV-sized rock of material on top of the shapeshifter. There's nothing left but dust and debris. And part of a tail sticking out from one side.

"Got the head..!"

Even as Domino is going after the shapeshifter, Nate's chain is wrapping about the tk even as the woman is actively engaged with both Domino AND the ensuing earthquake. The first detonation shakes the building, loosening the walls, turning the ceiling above into something a little less solid over their heads.

It's the second, the third coming in short order, which really serves to shake the building to its foundations. Now, slabs are falling, as well as dust and debris.

When Domino takes out the shapeshifter, losing some of herself in that fight (Blood doesn't lie!). His eyes widen as he watches his partner go flying through the room, and the hand comes up, his fingers gripping into a fist. That happens to correspond to the fact that the TK is now beginning to gasp for breath. It won't be a tk v. tk battle, however, as Cable brings that pistol up and fires it three times, setting up three very neat little holes. Neat -entrance holes- anyway. Nothing neat about those exits.

Nate turns around, checking on his merc even as the ceiling begins to fall down around them. Large chunks fall, and as they do, Nate has to work his way from where he is to that broken tank. "Dom!"

~ Oh god.. yes.. yes you did.. ~

The building rumbles again, this time, it's the elevator shaft. Fires begin and the rooms go completely black; no more of that disco light effect, no.

Reaching her, he's leaning over to grab her, to pick her up into his arms-

"I'm going to plant one more..."

Now, in movies, there would have been something romantic there. Some meeting of minds. The delight that each other is safe, and has found safety.

Nope.

One. More. Charge.

By the time Nate finds Dom her verbal response is ever so slightly strained. "Present."

When she gets rolled over and picked up it becomes clear that she's not holding a pair of knives anymore.

She's holding that one. More. Charge. Armed, ready. With a weakened grin upon her face.

"Mission first."

How's that for romance?