Participants:
| Scene Title | Command Decisions |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Arrival on Roosevelt Island for the FRONTLINErs is … not exactly wonderful. |
| Date | Nov 8, 2010 |
Roosevelt Island, Bridge
The bridge onto Roosevelt is being overrun by a mass of rioters. The black helicopter swoops in low behind the barricades and two Horizon armor-clad figures drop from the struts carrying automatic weapons. The chopper lifts off again in a swirl of air, and one of the figures — presumably the leader — points toward the left side of the barricade and looks over its shoulder at its companion. In the armor and exoskeleton, gender is difficult if not impossible to differentiate.
As they approach the back of the line of riot police, Elisabeth Harrison makes the face shield of her helmet less opaque so that she can talk to the man who appears to be directing things. Her voice is not digitized a bit through the helmet itself — she did manage to get the techs to do a couple of tweaks to the standard helmet to make it easier for her use since her specialized one got fried. It's not perfect, but it's better than nothing.
"Captain!"
The man who turns has steel-gray hair and dark eyes; he looks harried. But the sight of the two soldiers in his midst brings an expression of mingled relief and astonishment. "I asked for backup from you people an hour ago, and they only send me two of you??" He points toward the barricades. "I hope to hell whatever you got in your arsenal is going to actually work here!"
The sounds of gunfire on the barricade's front line is clearly audible, and Elisabeth herself seems calm. "It'll slow 'em down," she admits. "I'm wading for the front. Mitchell, cover my six." And she wades into the fray.
"Yes ma'am," comes Gavyn's reply over the comm, her voice giving a small lie to the otherwise outward calm she displays. Her head, face shielded so features are hidden, turns toward various officers as she stays close to Elisabeth's back. The man in charge is given a nod as she passes, hopefully appearing confident. That brief pause is ended when Gav, too, steps quickly after Liz.
Stepping passed the barracades is another matter all together. It isn't that Gavyn hesitates, but she seems just a little flinchy at the sounds of gunfire. First timer in a hostile situation, definitely. Eyes and head swivel this way and that to take in the situation, and often fall to Elisabeth both to keep watch over her as well as look for instruction.
Elisabeth switches to the person-to-person comms in the helmets to speak to Gavyn as they move. "You holding up okay over there, kiddo?" Gavyn isn't a child, but considering how many times Elisabeth's walked in combat in this city in the past two years…. she can't help the feeling of being ancient. "The adrenaline spike is going to give you the shakes," she reminds gently. "Keep it in the back of your head and remember that panicking will just make it worse."
The cops at the front of the line are holding back rioters with shields and gas canisters and shooting some of them, but they're still not stopping. The barricade has already been pushed halfway back up the bridge's slope toward the center by the onrush. "Your clip's full and anyone who doesn't respond to this burst I'm going to loose, take the upper torso shots, Mitchell," she instructs in a quiet, determined tone. She hopes to God Mitchell doesn't puke in her helmet.
"I'm good," Gavyn replies with a weak chuckle. "Knew this was in the job description, just… surprised?" That's one way to put it. She lifts her rifle, resting the butt in against the meaty part of her shoulder, muzzle pointed downward. No panicking, just nervous.
The muzzle comes up as one rioter threatens to get too close, and Liz isn't the only one hoping there's no puke in the helmet. "Fire when ready," Gavyn answers as she keeps the weapon trained just to the other's left.
There's a long moment where Elisabeth studies the scene in front of them from the center of the bridge. Down the gentle slope, she can see the entire two-deep line of cops. Switching to the police band, she says calmly into the radio, «Roosevelt Island bridge team — on the count of two, pull back another fifty feet at best speed. Split to the sides of the bridge as you do it, or you'll be caught in a wave of vertigo and be just as incapacitated as the rioters.»
Elisabeth pauses a long time and she looks at Gavyn. Reports have been sketchy, but she knows that rioters have killed at least four FRONTLINE members so far. They just plain don't STOP. She clenches her jaw and gives an order she knows she's going to have to live with for the rest of her life. «Once they're down, take them out.»
There's a whole lot of silence and then a massive amount of squawking down the radio at the audiokinetic.
Gavyn spares a glance to Elisabeth. If not for the helmet, eyes would be met with concern but understanding. And questions. Yet no questions are asked, hopefully there will be time for those later. After all, she'd heard the reports as well, and that's why she'd been called up from Maryland. "Yes, ma'am," she says quietly, her attention returning to the thronging and violent crowd.
Silence follows from the younger woman, though she prepares herself as much as possible for what's to follow. Rifle is raised and focus is turned outward, aim taken on the nearest of rioters. Soon as those gathered begin to fall, she steps forward and begins firing off single round bursts aimed for chests.
The cops on the line can't turn around and voice their shock. The captain of the squad squawks an objection. And Elisabeth makes more than clear the why and how of the order to the police as her husky contralto booms out over the crowd, amplified and laced with the deepest level of subsonics she can muster — not just within the sound of her voice, but also laced into every sound wave carrying from the rioters and the cops themselves. «By order of the Governor of New York and the President of the United States, martial law has been declared on this region. All citizens are ~URGED TO STAND DOWN AND RETURN TO YOUR HOMES~. We have direct orders to open fire on anyone who does not comply.»
Her hopes that the command will be followed is pretty much a vain one — the rioters who are this rabid have been affected too deeply by Carmichael's manipulations. Elisabeth watches, manipulating and fine-tuning the vertigo effect so as to keep it minimal within the range of the cops who are having to back up and strengthening it once it's beyond most of them. There are several who are caught in the crossfire of her effect — it's not as if she can pinpoint utilize it. Two at the fringes trip to the side of the bridge to hurl the contents of their stomachs over the edge. It's a far more visceral reaction among the rioters, though.
As the sound waves disrupt the inner ear at ranges outside that of human hearing, they begin to grow dizzy and disoriented. Some fall to the ground and begin vomiting while others simply keep coming. As the herd thins, giving the cops better chances on hitting what they're aiming for, the shields lower and the back ranges of officers also begin firing. Elisabeth and Gavyn's burst fire shots are perhaps better chosen — they're both marksmen at this point — but the sheer number of bullets raining into the crowd means that quite a large number are hit. And those can do so after being hit but not killed KEEP ON COMING.
It's a bloodbath on the bridge.
It's something you train for but never fully grasp until you're out in the thick of it. Gavyn doesn't think about it beyond point at the target and pull the trigger and move on to the next one. She stays shoulder to shoulder with Elisabeth, a physical shield to those officers who stand behind and generate a fair amount of coverfire. Her tatics change, two shots here, one there; a rioter who doesn't go down the first time is shot at again.
Gavyn dares to take a step forward as more of the frontrunning rioters begin to fall. With that step, she takes a slight angle, focusing her strike on the sides, and turning to keep the center covered as well.
When the police, who already knew that the possessed rioters were not stopping with single gunshot wounds, realize they're not stopping period until they're down, the shooting commences in earnest. When it's all over — at least this wave of it — there are 43 dead civilians on the bridge in front of 25 or so cops and two FRONTLINE officers. Elisabeth's faceshield is once more opaque, her expression invisible to all. «Captain Riggs, situation is contained. Please relay to the command center that FRONTLINE Units 2-04 and 2-08 will be remaining on Roosevelt as support.»
She touches something on her gauntlet to turn off the outgoing communications, slings her weapon across her shoulder, and moves to start heaving bodies the hell off the main path up the bridge. Elisabeth would prefer not to chuck them over, and whatever small help she and Gavyn can be in the cleanup here before they're called out again, she's willing to do as her penance for making the call to kill them.
As the shooting tapers off and eventually stops, reality seeps in. With deliberate movements, Gavyn shoulders her weapon, eyes taking in the number of dead as well as those still standing. Woodenly, the younger woman falls into assist the older, but hesitates at first in taking one of the bodies. She drops a hand to Liz's shoulder in a sort of understanding and silent offer of comradery. Then, with a heavy breath, she hauls on a fallen body to begin taking it up and out of the way.