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Rplog-icon Who: Gambit, Red Hood
Where: Colombia
When: August 9, 2012
Tone: Gritty
What: Mount Up!


It hadn't been easy to come up with an infiltration plan for such a secure compound on short notice, but the offer made by a mysterious third-party hiring agent had been too good to pass up. Especially with a job as sweet as kidnapping a drug dealer and getting him off the streets. That's something Gambit would almost be willing to do for free. Almost. So he threw something together at the last second, called his buddy Red Hood, and took a trip to Gotham.

The compound is secluded, with high walls, security systems, and many armed guards. "Piece of cake," Gambit whispers as he passes his partner a pneumatic harpoon launcher with a winch and cable attached. It's a duplicate of the one he's got braced against his own shoulder. "We scale de wall, slip past de guards, avoid de cameras, sensors, and alarms, snatch de scumbag, and we're off for a nightcap. Ready?"

"Sounds like my kinda' party."

Red Hood is definitely looking forever the part of the wanting this to happen so badly. He too is in the business of taking down evil bastards that attempt to destroy the common people that are just trying to live their daily lives. Drugs destroy those daily lives. So taking down one of them and getting paid for it? Definitely right up the alley of the Red Hood.

He adjusts the harpoon launcher on his shoulder, almost as if he's been trained for this already. He's actually well versed in a wide variety of things. But figuring Remy had all the gear already, the only thing he brought with him was the only thing he was going to need this time: Utter Badassery. "This is gonna' make one helluvan Anti-Drug commercial." Or it would. If it were being filmed.

"Den let's do it."

PTOOH!

Launched by a muffled puff of compressed air, Gambit's harpoon THUNKS solidly into the stone wall just below its crown. The impact itself is much louder that the shot as it's fired. After a few tugs to satisfy himself that it's secure, he detaches the winch from the side of the launcher. "Up we go," he says, winking.

When he presses a second trigger, the cable attached to the harpoon is automatically retracted, drawing the Cajun up and over the edge of the wall. Another trigger press and the cable plays out again, allowing him to control his descent down the other side. The only question is, can they both make it to the ground without being spotted?

PTOOH!

Jason follows suit and is clearly okay with Remy taking point on this mission. After all, Remy came to him for some assistance and thus he's got no issues with following his lead. The Cajun may know something that he doesn't know and the easier they make this, the less bodies he's going to have to create. Which, in turn, means the less ammo he's going to have to use and thus it all will end up working out for the best.

Silence is the key and that's why he's not saying a word. His red helmet is probably the loudest thing about him right now as he goes up after the Cajun and over the wall. Hood works the winch good enough to have himself lowering right next to Remy. He doesn't have anything popping up on his mini-HUD within the lenses of his helmet, so that's definitely a good sign. Perhaps it will be smooth sailing, after all. Y'know, if nobody notices the completely NOT camouflaged blood red helmet.

Remy isn't exactly discreet either, dressed in his highly visible armored suit and his ever-present leather coat. He glances right. Glances left. Shrugs. It seems even he seemed to encounter some sort of resistance by now.

With steps so soft that they barely bend the manicured grass, he starts making his way toward the center of the compound. No guards. He's not seeing any of the guards anywhere. "Dis isn't right," he murmurs. "Dis is too easy."

"Maybe they're all high?" Red Hood offers as he follows nice and close behind Remy. He doesn't want to be too far behind in case something does go down. He's been in enough situations like this to know when something doesn't smell right. Most of these situations were when he was bit a young lad swinging through the city with a giant flying rodent man... but those lessons were never forgotten. And they never will be.

"But whatever. As long as we're not getting shot at, I say we grab what we came for and get the hell out of here. Obviously, if they were going to ambush us, they'd have done it by now." Hood's silent footfalls become a bit less so, since he's pretty sure there's nothing or nobody around. They got this in the bag.

So it would seem. The duo make their way to the main living quarters without incident. When they reach the target, Gambit is even more perplexed. Not a single bodyguard. "Be on de lookout," he warns. Then he draws a syringe from an inside pocket, jabs it in their target's neck, and depresses the plunger. "Lil' somet'ing to keep him out."

The unconcious man is hauled over Remy's shoulder, still clad in a bathrobe and nightwear. "'kay," the Cajun grunts. "Let's go."

"Nothin'."

Red Hood is closer to the door than he is to Remy and the target. He's got one hand on one of his guns this entire time, as if he's just waiting to see someone -anyone- else so that he can plug that hole and they can get the hell out of here just as easy as they got in.

Once Remy has the package secured, Hood is nodding off in a direction that is not the direction they came in from. "Let's not double back. This shit is not right." Okay, by this point even Red Hood's suspicions are starting to rise. This really was way too easy. But at least, if they don't double back, whatever ambush is waiting for them back there won't have any luck.

Remy, too, had hoped to find the target already asleep, but planned on taking out at least one guard during the extraction. The longer this operation stays neat and quiet, the more uncomfortable he gets. "You're right. Forget about de boat. Dere's a helipad at de north end of de compound. Hope you know how to fly a chopper, else we really gon' be in for it."

That's when all hell starts breaking loose. Long lines of automatic gunfire stitch their way across the turf and toward the two adventurers. Gunman have appeared. All the ones who were supposed to be there and more. They're on the rooftops, leaning out of windows, and making their way across the grounds on foot.

"Well. Shit."

Red Hood is not the type of guy to be angry at this. They did manage to get the drop on them. So he has to be impressed... at least a little bit. "Go. I got this." Hood's words are only being said because the bullets are tinking off his armored uniform. He's not worried about bullets but he's not so sure that the package can handle the gunfire. And since he's been told where the helipad is, theres no reason he can't take some of these assholes out.

Guns are drawn as Red Hood stops his steps to backpedal and spin, bringing both of those hand cannons up with ease. "You guys are late. Welcome to Deathtention." And his fingers pull back on the triggers of his guns, sending massive .50 cal bullets into the chests and legs and whatever else of a nice chunk of those fools on the ground. He's just trying to put some room between them and the package, before sending a couple of bullets past Remy and towards anyone that may be attempting to cut off their path.

As far as Jason is concerned, all this shit is happening in slow motion. Still on the move, Gambit draws a fan of playing cards from an inner pocket and launches them at a wave of incoming attackers. And resistance is met in a similar fashion. Explosively. With his partner covering the rear, he has one objective. Get the package into the helicopter.

Once he's got the man loaded on the rotorcraft, he climbs aboard and starts launching more charged cards at their ambushers. "GET TO DE CHOPPA!" he screams at Jason.

"GET DOWN!"

Red Hood is all too familiar with these words and thus he's actually holding back laughter as he's shoving the guns back into their holsters and focuses on cutting a run through the explosions and the rain and hail of BULLETS. A couple of grenades are hurled over his shoulders to punctuate his escape and then he's making a dive for the copter with all the epic slow motion that comes with exploding bad guys behind him.

Inside, it only takes him a moment to get to the controls and get this thing started. Remy's covering him and within moments that chopper is lifting off with ease. Or relative ease. Bullets suck.

And they're clear. A few bullets PING off the chopper's exterior, but nothing too damaging or potentially deadly. Remy breathes a sigh of relief. "Jesus. Dat really escalated quickly."

And then to complicate matters even further, the package starts waking up. Whatever Remy dosed him with is somehow already wearing off. Weakly, the man flops over on to his back and glares up at the Cajun kidnapper. "You... never learn, do you?" he pants out breathlessly.

Jason is focused on making sure that the chopper continues to do what it needs to do... fly. And it's not until they are clear does he start to relax. And that's about the same time that the package starts waking up. And that's probably not a good sign.

"Please tell me you got some more Sleepytime Juice for this asshole." is muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Remy. Red Hood is too focused on keeping his eye on the sky to be worried about why this dude is saying whatever he's saying to Remy. He's clearly keeping an eye out for any drug copters attempting to catch them.

"No worries," Remy replies. He cocks a fist back, prepared to knock the man out again. He doesn't get the chance, though.

Still gasping for air, the kidnapped man rips open his shirt and reveals the explosive vest strapped to his chest. "Never learn," he repeats. The timer attached to the explosives is counting down. Counting down quick.

"Uhhhh," the Cajun calls up to his partner. "We have a problem. Dis guy is about to explode. Don't worry, I got an idea. Can dis piece o' shit go any faster? And higher?"

"Wait. What the hell?! The guy you were sent here to collect is going to explode?! Well. That's just dandy, isn't it? Dandy." Red Hood is probably freaking out beneath that helmet, but he's already pulling on the controls to have this chopper moving faster and higher, even without really getting where Remy is going with this plan. In fact:

"I hope this idea involves something extremely well thought out. Because we are simply going farther away from where we need to be... WITH THE BOMB. I'm just sayin'!"

"Dis guy gon' explode in about five seconds. So I figure I'll just do... dis!"

When Gambit judges they're high enough from the ground that he and Jason will be clear of the blast radius, he rolls the bomb-wearing man out the side of the helicopter. The package explodes about three seconds later, destroying several buildings, sending men (and pieces of them) flying in all directions, and leaving a huge crater in the center of the compound.

"Okay!" Gambit yells. "Now comes the faster part! Must go faster!"

"... You know this is not American, right?" Jason works the throttle and throws everything he has into the acceleration of this chopper, not even really flinching at the explosion that's happening beneath and behind them. He's focused on making sure that this damn thing gets away from this blast and the resulting fire and flying debris and even body parts.

"I hope we still get paid for this!" Hood yells, all in the midst of their much faster escape.

For his part, Gambit is hanging from the helicopter's runner, one hand gripping the roof, the other launching darts, dice, and poker chips that have been charged with kinetic energy. Each carefully aimed projectile deflects a bit of debris or shrapnel headed for their escape vehicle.

When they're finally clear of the blast zone, Gambit wheels his head around to stare at Jason. "Are you serious? Dis was a setup. You don't get paid for a setup. You get... I dunno. Set up!"

"Oh hell no! I hope this fucker has enough gas to get back to the States. Because it's time we paid your employer a visit."

Since they are finally clear, Jason takes it upon himself to slow the chopper down and takes it to a much more controllable level and pulls back to let this thing cruise. Cruising will help save on the gas too, probably.

"I got a rocket launcher with their name on it." Apparently, Jason is not too worried about the set up. He's more worried about the lack of money coming from almost getting blown up. Revenge!

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