Participants:
Scene Title | Bound By Blood IV |
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Synopsis | It's a showdown at the Stack Farmstead, with surprises lurking in the back yard and in the end, an ever more bigger surprise for one agent. |
Date | July 2, 2010 |
Stack Farmstead, Pleasantville, New York.
Two bored agents parked hidden by the farmhouse that mary-Anne had given up had witnessed had gotten a break a little after noon. Jacob Stack spotted in the town, the beat up blue truck that he was known to use driving down the road with a driver that resembled strongly the blonde guy in the picture that had been taped to the dash. THey had followed him discreetly, pulling off when it was obvious he was heading back to the farmhouse after having been gone for days.
With the sighting, a call had been put in for agents on the case and any available agents to get on out to Pleasantville.
Which was where everyone was, gathered just out of view of the farmhouse, out in the woods surrounding the rambling aged home. The weather in their favor nice and balmy, overcast at times, it was a change from where it could have been. No movement inside that signifies they've been seen yet, no agents keeling over with any of the symptoms that seem to appear when people are around him. Flora has yet to come, notified the others that she was bringing something that might help with capturing the elder Stack.
Ambulances are nearby, two in waiting should things go terribly awry given the results of previous interactions, and the fact that out here, it could very well mean the difference between an agents death, or survival.
"…no, no we're in visual range. We're waiting on agent Anderson before moving in." Back from the edge of the treeline, agent Albert Rossling paces through the mossy oaks, one hand sweeping through his short, chalk white hair as he converses on his cell phone with someone in the operations department. "Satellite heat imaging suggests he's present currently, yes. No, sir, I'm— I'm aware." Rolling his eyes, Rossling turns to offer a look back at another one of the agents standing in the shadows of the trees nearby.
Liza Messer, the agent-in-training looks awkward with the blue and black kevlar vest strapped on over her white blouse. Ducked down behind one of the tall, moss-laden oak teees, she's slipping a CO2 cartridge into her taser, brows furrowed and teeth nibbling on her lower lip. Worry, admittedly, paints the older agent Rossling's face as he surveys his young protege, turning attention back to his cell phone.
"I understand, sir. Yes… Yes I'll keep you up to speed as soon as something changes." Without a farewell, Rossling closes his phone against his chest, turning to look back into the forest with the farmhouse and Liza behind him, waiting for Agent Flora Anderson's arrival.
Allison isn't much of a driver, and driving out of the city is a bit far for her to risk. But since she's been involved in the case, she swallows her pride and hitches a ride with her 'favorite' agent ever. Veronica. She was quiet on most of the drive, calm even. But as they near the farmhouse, she sighs softly and murmurs, "I really hope we catch him here so we can close this one."
Veronica pulled up as close as possible to the rendezvous spot in the woods, parking where her Jag wouldn't be too noticeable. "We hoof it from here," she nods to Allison who rode shotgun — at least she's good for a diamond-lane buddy, if nothing else, in Veronica's regard. Actually, knowing the blonde can't get in her head has improved their relationship substantially. At least in Vee's mind. That means the other agent is tolerated, at any rate.
Sawyer herself is a bit weary looking tonight, dark circles under her eyes. She'd been catching a nap in her office when the call came through. "I wish he'd given himself up," she says as they move to the other group already assembled. "Anderson's not here yet?" she asks, popping her trunk to get her and Allison's equipment.
Dante looks like probably the least prepared agent in the history of missions ever. his hands are shoved deep in the pockets of his trenchcoat as he trudges through the undergrowth towards Rossling and Messer, Isabella by his side. The look on his face is the same as one that's more at home on stoners and sleep deprived college students, especially if they're both at once. It's an unfocused gaze that seems to be looking through and not seeing everything at once. He chews slowly on a piece of gum, approaching the other agents at a slow, cautious pace, his gaze still turned towards the farmhouse. "What news?" he asks in a distracted monotone. The tazer in his deep pocket and the gun stuck in a shoulder holster are just out of few under his coat.
Isabella is keeping pace with Dante at a brisk, slipped rate, the woman tense and restrained. She knows she did badly the other night, and she's got her leash tightened a bit today, making sure she doesn't screw this one up too. Here's hoping there really isn't a lawsuit.
But anyways, the young woman strides closer with her distracted counterpart, tucking dark hair behind her ears with a hand landing on her taser afterward. Dante's question gets a quirk of her brows, questioning look turned to Rossling.
Veronica and Allison aren't that far from the others, soon enough everyone except Flora and whatever she's bringing is present and accounted for, remaining in a holding pattern till then. Annoying and impatient as it might be for those present and for those on the phone waiting to hear and be notified/de-briefed as to what is happening.
There's a rustle off to the left of the group, stepping briefly into sight is a hunters dream, a young stag, it's antlers counting only two points. It freezes in spot, staring at the agents before turning and fleeing from them.
At the house though, the front door opens, the tall and lean form of their target stepping out just enough to drop some muddy boots out the front to dry off, a very unhappy look on his face. A glance towards the rest of the property, a barn nearby that looks like it's seen far better days and from previous exploration by the Company, proved to be occupied by a couple motorcycles in various states of repair.
But it's not him returning back into his house that garners attention, but just to the right of the group, with a soft pop, outward pressure of air, Flora makes her wobbly legged appearance, standing beside the petite blonde that the others in the company know. Jacobs sister Mary-Anne and looking a far sight better than when they first saw her.
"Sorry, Paperwork. They just don't like people walking off with the criminals. How is it going out here?" Mary-anne remains shoulder hunched with eyes downcast.
Shocked away from whatever response he was going to have, Albert Rossling's reaction to the sight of Jacob Stack's sister has his white brows raising towards his hairline. "You are a madwoman," the British agent suggests with an expression that is crossed somewhere between indignant and impressed in a way that only the British can manage. "Are you absolutely certain that this is a wise idea, agent Anderson?" Rossling doesn't really give any qualifiers to why he think it might not be, though he's left the floor open for others to judge.
Rising up from her crouch beside the tree, Riza holsters her taser at her hip, then takes crunching steps through the underbrush towards Flora's arrival. Her attention is, admittedly, focused on where the stag was in the treeline with a certain whimsical amusement, but then somes to settle back on the gathered agents. "Come on Rossy," Liza notes with a wrinkle of her nose and a lean of her shoulder against the taller agent. "I'm sure Flora's got a perfectly good plan…"
Liza's brows scrunch up and her nose wrinkles as she offers Flora a nervous smile as she squeakily asks, "There's is a plan, right?"
When Flora pops in with Mary-Anne, Allison doesn't look at all surprised. Nope, not one bit. Of course, she had to call and tell Mary-Anne it was okay to use her ability so the teleporting was possible, so she expected this, or something like it. Then she looks to Rossling. "From a psychological standpoint, it makes sense. He'll be less likely to get overly violent as long as Mary-Anne is with us. He won't want his sister getting hurt."
"I really hope that Rene was busy with something else, because otherwise this could have been a walk in the park," Veronica says with some irritation, raising her brow at the appearance of Mary-Anne. "Ms. Stack. Good to see you seem to be feeling better. I assume you're here to help talk some sense into your brother? Like you and I discussed, things will be much easier for him if he complies with us."
She turns to Flora. "I'd suggest that possibly Doctor Richards, Mary-Anne and I approach the house — if his power is directed, he shouldn't be able to harm me. If it's area-based, he wouldn't want to injure his sister. Richards stands a risk, but she can use her power to help suggest he let us take him in." She nods to the others. "Everyone else can have our backs, ready to take him down if it escalates. But it's your show — what did you have in mind?"
Dante flicks a bemused gaze to the stag as it approaches, frowning at it until it runs away. Flora's arrival gets a smile of greeting and he nods to her. "The Company is taking hostages now?" he asks in deadpan, though he looks to Flora for her answer.
Isabella also stares at that stag, giving it a harsh glare that just challenges it to come closer. She dares it. And when it turns and flees, there's almost a moment of 'that's right, you better run!' about the girl before she looks back to the people and the plan at hand.
Pop! Mary-Ann Stack appears with Flora and Isa's hand flexes its grip on the tazer, teeth gritting a little before she just presses her lips together and forces her hand down. Posture ramrod-straight, she listens to Vee's rundown and gives a tight nod. She can be a good girl. Really she can.
"Wow Rossling, such faith. Single child much? Because you must have been if you don't know about brothers and sisters." Flora flips her head, blonde hair flicking back with the aide of her hand. "Sibling bonds. Strong things, Blood bonds stronger than emotional. People do crazy and miraculous things for family, that they wouldn't do for others. Jacob in there, he's been doing this for his sister." Her hand goes down to rest on her hip, raised brow at the older white haired man.
"Not a hostage. I got permission, dotted the I's and crossed the T's. She's here legally, under my custody and she won't be teleporting out anywhere without the permission of Doctor Richards here or Agent Sawyer or myself." Such is the nature of the implanted hypnotic suggestion.
A glance to Veronica and her offered up plan there's a nod. "You, Richards and Mary-Anne here" Mary-Anne's eyes lift and glance around, the seriousness of the situation explained before hand to the teenager, she doesn't looks alarmed at all that she's being shoved up as the first wave - and hopefully the only necessary wave. "Was the plan, get him to answer the door and keep him there. See if this can't be done peacefully and amicably. With the minimum of injury or collateral damage. I've called for containment just in case, god forbid there be mass stupidity"
There's a pointed glance to Isabella.
"If that doesn't work, plan B will be in effect. Myself, Rossling, Liza, Dawson and Lupinetti will fan out. There's a door to the rear of the house, Lupinetti and Dawson come go in that way with Rossling, Liza and myself will come up either side of the covered porch. Rossling, if anything goes wrong, say the word "monkey" into the radio's "
Everyone had one, little receivers to listen to chatter. "I want you to drop the pressure right around him. Get it low, get it fast. It'll screw with his ears, I'll pop an illusion around him and Sawyer can hit him with her tazer. Doctor Richards, we'll use your ability if that doesn't work, if things start to go wonky, you grab Mary-Anne and you take her out of here, back here to the woods. Does that sound good to all" Another glance to Isabella. "Can you follow that plan?"
"Simple enough," Rossling states with a demur smile. "Miss Messer," Rossling interjects with a motion of his hand to Liza, "stay close and remember to follow my instructions." There's a look over to Dante and Isabella, and one of Rossling's white brows lifts up slowly. "And, Agent Dawson?" There's a twitch of the corner of Rossling's mouth into a smirk. "Do try not to bludgeon anyone needlessly this time?"
Grimacing at Rossling's assessment of things, Liza nods her head twice in rapid succession. "I've got it, it sounds simple enough. Alright everybody, let's do a good job and make sure that Mister Stack gets brought in nice and safe, okay?" Always the beam of optimism and cheer, the young miss Messer is.
Allison listens to Veronica with a hint of surprise, then Flora, and she nods. "Sounds like a reasonable plan to me," she says, giving Mary-Anne a reassuring smile. Nothing will go wrong, honest. Then she's just looking to Veronica, letting her get things started, with a clear 'lead the way' gesture.
Veronica's taser is pulled from its holster and she gives a nod to Flora. "Sounds like a plan." She smiles at Liza's optimism and nods to Allison. "All right. Stay a little behind me — I know you need to see his eyes, of course, but if I'm not affected, maybe me blocking you will help." They don't exactly know how his power works — since his sister doesn't even know he has a power.
Her dark eyes move to Mary-Anne finally. "I need you to tell him not to shoot us or use his power as soon as he sees us. If he insists he doesn't have a power, you need to tell him to stay calm, that you're healthy and trying to help him and don't need him to protect you, okay? We don't want to hurt him, and we want to be able to help him." She puts a hand on the younger woman's shoulder, nudging her toward the farmhouse. "Thank you for helping us."
Dante idly works a finger into his ear, resetting the little earpiece hidden there. He nods along to the plan, though when Isabella is addressed, he quickly speaks up. "We can follow that plan easily, ma'am. Don't you worry. What's our ultimate goal here? I assume capture, but what priority are we putting on this boy's life and health?"
Flora's words get a piercing look from Isabella, but she stays resolutely silent. If pissy. And Rossling's words get a petulant frown and a sharply muttered, "Yes, sir." Taking a deep breath, presumably to still her violent temper, she crosses her arms and starts to pick her way around the perimeter towards the woods in the back of the house, when Dante's question halts her, and she looks to those in charge. This is important information for the trigger-happy psycho-bunny.
Plan approved by the most senior agent on the scene - yes you, you white hair fogey - Flora settles her attention as likely do others, on the sister to the individual that they're trying to catch.
Mary-Anne's hands clasp together, thumb scratching at other thumbnail and a nod. "I'll do the best I can ma'am" Voice a whisper and cracking at first before she clears her throat and speaks up a bit more. "I'll tr and get him to do what you want. I don't want to see him hurt but.. If he's the one who's been doing this to me-" A glance to Flora then blue eye's flitting from person to person. "He needs help. We both have done wrong, and, we need to" She inhales deeply, trying to pull herself up straight. "Our parents would be unhappy if they were alive"
And with that, a gentle clap of hands and a check of radio's and receivers, plan A is put into motion, the group splitting up into it's three teams.
"According to the phone call I just had with operations control, it would be preferred if Mister Stack could be brought in alive, there is a containment team on the way expecting so." Rossling reaches into his brown overcoat and withdraws his taser from within, checking the cartridge in the front before stepping around and behind Liza, then looking out through the mossy trees towards the farmhouse beyond, eyes narrowed subtly. Liza's expression sours at the mention of the containment team, a nervous tug of teeth at her bottom lip comes before she nods once, shallowly.
"Besides," Rossling belatedly interjects, "there is no sense in a loss of life here. We are many and he is few, if we cannot pride ourselves on our ability to overcome adverse odds with nonlethal force, we are no better than barbarians with sticks and rocks." He looks back towards the rest of the team, nodding to Flora as he takes position behind one of the trees. "I follow your lead, agent Anderson."
Already striding out of the woods with Mary-Anne leading the way, and Allison slightly behind her, Veronica holds her laser loosely in her pocket. Dark eyes shielded by sunglasses sweep the area, to make sure the other teams are moving to their places, and she matches her pace to their movements so that they will be well in place by the time the trio of women make it to the porch.
"Ready?" she asks the two women, Mary-Anne in front, Allison behind her. "Richards, get your mojo on as soon as you can and tell him to give himself over. Mary-Anne, I trust you but if you suddenly do anything that's not part of the plan, you'll be endangering not only yourself but your brother as well," she says quietly, finally taking the steps that bring them to the front door. "Knock when you're ready," she tells Mary-Anne.
Allison falls into step just behind Veronica, just slightly to one side so if need be she can shoot without hitting the other agent. "As long as he can hear my voice I can 'get my mojo on'," she murmurs to Veronica, studying the house as they approach, then the windows as they stop in front of the door. She doesn't want anymore surprises.
"Aren't we still barbarians? Just with more sophisticated sticks. And our rocks now have wifi." Dante's distracted gaze focuses on Rossling briefly, giving him a sardonic smirk. Ahhh, a joke. Well, then. "Understood, sir. Nonlethal force, at worst. Surely we'll be able to contain a boy and his sister, this time."
And they're off! Taking the lead, Dante pulls his tazer out of his pocket and holds it low and in front of him like one would hold a gun. He jerks his head at a tangent to the house, glancing to Isabella and Rossling, letting them know he's ready to go. Following Rossling's lead, he takes up a spot behind a tree as well, keeping a watch on the house, eyes narrowed and attentive for any hint of something going wrong.
Non-lethal. Okay. Tazer lifted again, Isabella moves after Dante, the little barbarianess ready to non-lethal the crap out of the Stack kid(s), should anything happen. Rossling gets lead!
And the race is on here comes pride up the backstretch… Is how the story goes. Agents moving off to do their jobs, everything put into action. Team one consisting of Mary-Anne, Allison and Veronica make their approach, up front, heading straight for the door. A glance from the teenager to Dante when he feels the need to hammer in further what has been drilled in for the last few hours and another nod.
The front steps creak, only three of them, high enough to a person's knee. Mary-Anne wincing at the sound that it makes, loud as the crickets that have gone off, birds letting go with their songs in the tree's not near the agents. "Jacob!" She calls out, something crashing inside moments later at the sound, footsteps thumping towards the door. The curtains across the windows in the first door twitch quickly aside, as if it might be a joke, that it's not really his sister. They close, then twitch open again. The door opens a crack, rifle nosing out first. "Get away from em Mary-Anne, Get to safety"
Elsewhere on the Stack Property, the agents are filtering through the tree's making their way's around to the fallow field of grass turned hay. No one to run a combine over it and turn it into bales. The cold weather stunted it, only up to the knee's, no cover possible to be sought there. One can see where it's beem trampled, run through, a scythe out in the back leaning against a weathered chair that has need of being sharpened but from the saw of the grass, one can tell that it's been used to create a clearing.
They have this tall grass to get through, then home free to the house. No dogs, no animals of any kind to give warning, Flora rotates her forefinger, points to Liza and herself, gesturing to take up either side, of the house, the last three gestured towards the back door and the cement steps that lead to the screen door that is all that keeps them from the inside of the house. Forward through the flora… goes flora.
Right behind Flora, Liza seems nervous on her approach to the house, the hands gripping her taser shaking with nervous anticipation. This is her first real field assignment with a hostile Evolved, and while she's run plenty of simulated assignments in the training grounds at the Chicago branch, nothing quite prepares her for the adrenaline surge of the real deal.
When Flora has Liza splitting off the blonde stares wide-eyed for a moment, then sharply nods her head and breaks away to run along the opposite side of the house from Flora, her taser pointed down to the ground. The tall grass crunches under foot as she runs, pausing for just a moment to look back to where Rossling and his team are approaching from the rear.
"Bugger," Rossling huffs breathily as he hears the shouting coming from the building. "Come on, then," the old agent grates out to his subordinates as he begins trudging across the tall grass, Taser held out and down in pantomime of Liza's posture, or perhaps his stance is where she learned it from, more likely. Halfway out into the field, Rossling comes to an abrupt halt in his run, leather shoes skidding in the tall grass as he holds off a warning hand towards Dante and Isabella, horror in his expression. "Stop there's— "
A scream rises up from beside the house, following a noisy clank-snap of creaking metal. On Liza's side of the Stack farm, the metallic jaws of a bear trap hidden in the tall grass clamp down soundly around her ankle. A scream of pain and a reflexive squeeze of her trigger finger discharges her taser against a wall harmlessly. Howling in pain, the tiny blonde falls down onto her side, letting out a wailing cry of pain as she clutches at her leg, where blood stains her black slacks wetly.
Veronica stares at the rifle barrel and in the distance she hears Liza's scream, her eyes widening slightly. Her hand on Mary-Anne's shoulder squeezes lightly, encouraging the girl to do as they say. The hand holding her taser is held low at her side, non-threateningly. The script here, however, belongs to Mary-Anne and Allison, so Veronica holds steady — hoping this part of the plan goes as planned.
Dante is stopping before Rossling gets his hand up, grabbing hold of Isabella's arm to stop her in her tracks, his eyes likely fixed on the same spot Rossling has. His head jerks up at the snap of metal on bone, and he grimaces. "So much for an easy capture," he mutters, deadpan again, and looks to Rossling. "I suggest you two stay behind me while I lead the rest of the way, sir."
The moment the rifle appears in the doorway, Allison's eyes go silver and she stops talking. "You will not shoot us. You will drop the rifle. You will cooperate with us fully," she says in the relaxing, soft voice that she tends to use when using her ability. Only the look in her eyes is harder. Cold silver rather than warm mercury. But like Veronica, her hand is near her weapon. Her ability didn't work so well on this guy last time.
"Holy sh—!" Isabella hisses, staring after Liza wide-eyed. Okay, better to pick the way ahead carefully. "Jesus, who the fuck puts bear-traps in their front yard." Mutter mutter. Nevermind he's trying to keep people away; nevermind his "front yard" is farmland. She just waits for the next person to take the lead who's gonna do so, because it sure as shootin' isn't going to be her.
Allison's attempt to instill an order in Jacob's mind, a proverbial mysticla Ceti-Eel to do to Jacob what Khan did to Chekov in a sorts. Mind control. Count on the agents in training however to foul that all up and as one of the traps that Jacob set in the back yard when he noticed a thing or two amiss in the house after Mary-Anne got caught, The rifle goes off from the trigger finger, Allison loosing a chink of hair and the truck behind her getting the brunt of the bullet, piercing and lodging into the door.
The rifle nose is dropped, door kicked shut and he's off, somewhere in the house, even as Mary-Anne stays drops under Veronica's firm hold, Yelling for her brother, hands covering her head.
IN the back, they can see the jaws of the trap, clamped firm mid calf around the leg of the young agent. No getting up or getting loose for her, a chain anchored firmly from the trap to elsewhere in the ground. A look shows that her and there, they're planted too, obscured by cut hay.
hay likely cut using the scythe. Set up between when agents last checked the house and now.
Plan A has obviously gone awry and it's time for plan B. Illusion wraps the house, cement walls, visible from inside the illusion by Allison and Veronica as well as Mary-Anne. The rest of them, nothing has changed, a house, overcast sky above, grass and tree's farmland. "Illusion up, can't see us coming in, take him down alive" Flora barks out, heading still towards the side of the house.
"Liza!" Rossling's voice warbles across the field, and for just a moment the agent who cares about nothing suddenly shows a sign of emotion from his usual stiff-upper-lip presence. There's a tension in his body, eyes are wide and until Dante and Isabella remind him with their waiting on his command that there is still a mission to perform, Rossling looks as though he'd have gone to Liza's side.
Grimacing in a way that almost looks like a snarl, Rossling points down to the trap he narrowly avoided, then continues en-route to he back of the house. As Flora's illusion comes shimmering up, hiding them against the backdrop of the field, there's a noticable drop in temperature around Rossling, enough that it feels like cool fall air blowing 'round his presence. Atmokinesis is always so strongly attuned to emotions, and right now Rossling is stone-cold from the wound suffered by his partner in training.
Coming up to the rear screen door, Rossling braces his back against it and holds his taser up, motioning for Dante and Isabella to come over. There's a hand lifted, three fingers, then two, then one—
Rossling whips around from the wall, kicking the screen door in and taser out as he storms the back of the farmhouse, all while Liza lays helpless and trapped, tears streaking down her cheeks and whimpering sobs of fear and pain bubbling up from her as backdrop to the raid.
"Shit," Veronica hisses as that bullet whizzes past her and Allison, her own taser coming up only to aim at shut door. "Get her back to the woods, donno why you can't brainwash that one," she says, pushing Mary-Anne to follow Richards. "Be careful. Don't let her teleport out," she adds, moving to look for a less obvious way into the house. "He's got a rifle," she speaks into the comm set to the others. Turning back she glances at Richards. "See if you can help Liza, too."
Yep, that worked about as well as it did before. Allison ducks down, then reaches out to grab for Mary-Anne's wrist. "C'mon. Follow me. Keep close and no teleporting," she instructs the girl, eyes still that pale, shining color. She heads away from the door, trying to pull the teleporter along with her, but it's not the woods she heads for. She can't leave Mary-Anne alone, and Liza needs medical attention. It's Hypnosis Barbie to the rescue!
Dante jerks at the rifle shot, looking up in surprise and concern. Okay, he wasn't expecting /that/ exactly. Good to know Dante can be occasionally be surprised. Rossling's continued path through the grass has Dante wincing, eyes on the leader's feet…but he relaxed quickly and follows confidently. No more bear traps in the hay, thank goodness.
When Rossling kicks the back door open, Dante points his gun in and to the side, covering his superior for a moment before slipping in after. His head is cocked, ear turned up for evidence of where Jacob may have gone, still laconic as ever while a mission is active.
Things are going to hell. Isabella jerks at the gunshot and brings her tazer to bear. But as Rossling goes ahead, so does she, hitting his exact footsteps to avoid Liza's fate. (Not that she even casts one concerned glance her direction.) But as they draw closer to the farmhouse, her grip on the tazer tightens, and she's in right after everyone else with her tazer out and eyes on the lookout for Mister Stack.
Poor screen door's only crime was being hung on this house's back door.
Warped wood that has seen many a year, abuse and neglect from age and multiple people's hands using it, it gives under Rossling's foot and they fall in, agent after agent into the rambling farm house, the temperature changing where Rossling moves, giving away their or at least his position.
Good news though, Dante can see a lack of any bear traps inside the house, nor rigged anything. bad news is that though the sound had come from the side of the house, Jacob was fleeing for the back of the house, a straight run from the front to the back, all the better when built, to take advantage of a cool breeze. Or in this case, a quick exit out the back.
Rifle pointed down, the young man grinds to a halt at the sight of the white haired agent, followed by Dante who can see the finger not on the trigger but the white knuckled grip on the butt of it. One hand - not bearing the rifle - goes up, caught where he stands. Luck in their favor. Veronica can see an open window to the side, curtain blowing with the breeze and with a quick ease in, lifting legs in one after the other, she too can see Jacob halted in his tracks, one hand up and other holding tight to his rifle. A chance for all four to get a hit in.
That sickening waves comes right on the heels of the deer in headlights though, rippling out and hitting all the agents, waves of dizziness, cramps, everything they've come to know that accompanies the young man. The young man who he as well is suddenly dropping his rifle, wobbly at the knee's like the others as Veronica is left as the only one standing inside, protected by her own ability.
Outside, mary-Anne follows Allison, the womans ability working at least on her, devoted attention to the other woman and a bobble headed nod as they go around the building to where Liza is, the young blonde's hands going to her mouth to suppress a gasp of horror. "You need a stick… he uses them to catch animals. Shit.. jacob…" The teenager agog at what she see's and how the situation is going. "A stick, or something, I can get it off her"
Laying down in the grass, all Liza can do is clutch at her leg and whine in agony, blood dripping thorugh her pants and fingers curled around her calm, paralyzed by pain and fear. Shock has already set in, but the bone-deep pain in her calf and ankle is too throbbing and too sharp to be dulled simply by her shock alone. She's of little help in removing the trap.
Inside the farmhouse, Rossling's reaction to the hemokinesis is as an old man's should be. When his blood pressure tanks and weakness sets in to his joints, he crumples like wet newspaper, slouching to the side and hitting a dining room table in that back kitchen, slashing down against it and knocking over a chair before he hits the floor. As cramps and aches in his back come from the changing blood pressure and hemokinetic manipulation, the air pressure in the room changes as well, rising rapidly causing that ear-popping feeling like an ascending airplane. Condensation forms on the floor and walls, beads of moisture as his atmokinesis goes out of control with brief gusts of wind and tiny static discharges of electricity in the air.
Aiming her taser at Jacob, with no waves of sudden fatigue to overtake her, Veronica has to adjust her aim a bit as the man himself crumples, realizing that her power has indeed kept her safe. Once her aim accounts for the change in his posture, she pulls the trigger, letting the taser dart fly; if it doesn't hit, she'll follow with another — he may be now suddenly anemic like her colleagues, but he might have other tricks up his sleeve — or guns, at any rate.
Allison nods at the words from Mary-Anne, and she looks around until she finds a solid looking stick. She grabs it and passes it off to Mary-Anne. "Help her. Get the thing off her leg" she says, before she kneels beside Liza, starting to see how badly affected the other woman is. Not much she can do for the leg until the trap is off, but a tourniquet, that she can do. Alas, she has little to use, but she didn't really like the jacket she was wearing anyway, so tugs it off so it can be used to help slow the bleeding.
"It'll be okay, Liza. Just close your eyes and focus on breathing slow and deep. The pain isn't as bad as you think it is," she murmurs to the injured agent, pushing her power at the woman. Most of the Company may not trust Allison's ability, but if she can lessen the pain, she doesn't think they'll mind so much. This time.
And there's Jacob! As soon as Dante spies the boy, his taser whirls around and…his vision suddenly goes black as the blood surges out of his head. He swoons, catching himself on one knee, trying to blink past the sudden blobs in his vision and the rising panic in his mind. Shit shit shit! Not again! He blinks hard, squints, and fires his taser in the general direction of the perp. Only to have the clicking spikes stick into the wall near Jacob's knee.
Tazer number three is shot the moment Stack is seen, as Isabella is never one for dallying. However at the same moment, her vision also goes wonky, and she sways on her feet, gasping and growling angrily as she finds herself to be lacking in the not-hitting-the-ground department. And so, kneeling and sucking in air, she turns a murderous glare at Stack. There is no way he's going to make a fool of her and get away. Not this time.
…Now just as soon as she can get her limbs to respond, she'll be all set.
Into his back, piercing through thin cotton and into flesh, the electrical discharge coursing down after it, Jacob seizes up, rest of him falling to the floor, rigid as can be at the volts that course through his body, his ability ceasing while he's down on the floor with the others. Oblivious to Isabella's glare and indignation, Rossling's health issues. They've succeeded in capturing, it seems, Jacob Stack.
Outside, Flora's come to a skidding stop beside the trio, Allison's ability seeming to work this time at least on liza as Mary-Anne roots around at a nearby wood stack to find what she needs and is back at the side quickly enough, getting ready to press down on the lever when told to do so. Flora's taking off her belt, seeing what's needed without even being asked, working in tandem with Allison to make the tourniquet and have it in place so that when Mary-Anne presses down and the old rusty iron jaws of the trap groan free, she and Allison tug the woman out. The jaws snap closed with a harsh sound, but the younger agent is free. "Allison, Take Mary-Anne, teleport to the hospital." The younger girl looks towards the house, about to object, but falls back silent.
Adrenaline has an amazing effect on the human body. It can heighten awareness, increase physical capability, dilate blood vessels and increase heart rate leading to heightened blood oxygenation. Some scientists — among which is the famous Doctor Mohinder Suresh — have even theorized that high levels of adrenaline compounded with psychological duress can have an even more profound effect on certain genetically specific individuals.
The assault on Isabella Dawson's blood system by Jacob Stack, the screams of Liza Messer outside and the tense situation resulting in the static pop-crackle-snap of taser fire in the farm house exacerbates the blood pounding in her brain. With fingers wound tightly around her taser gun's grip, Isabella can feel her blood pressure regulating, feel that sense of light-headedness fading, feel her heart rate regulating and…
The term manifestation has a few different meanings in the English language. The most common nomenclature in contemporary times deals with the status of the Suresh Linkage Complex. Evolved, a small cross-section of humanity possessing the SLC, are considered to be un-manifested until the day that their ability — whatever it is — comes bubbling to the surface.
That day, for Isabella Dawson — is today.
Before her eyes, her vision changes to some sort of sickly sixth-sense. She can see, through subtle crimson glow through flesh and blood, the flow of blood through arteries and veins, see the pulsing of each person's heart through their breast bone and instinctively sense the pressure of their blood and her own blood around her.
The shock of the revelation, the strange feeling of intuitive control over her own hemoglobin and that of those around her is as simple as breathing. Reflexively, with no effort of her own, the blood flows of Albert Rossling and Dante Lupinetti are corrected, made proper again in the way their blood should be, as if in that panicked moment of desperation… her wishes were answered.
Rossling is wholly unaware of what's happening as his vision unblurs and the light-headedness swimming at the back of his eyes comes to a halt. Pushing himself up onto one knee, he reaches up to press his earbud in and tiredly groans, "S— Stack is down…" into the small microphone, breathing heavy and deeply as he stares down at the tasered young man, none the wiser about what just happened.
Dante Lupinetti, though, might have just enough intuition to put those puzzle pieces together…
Dropping down on her knees to handcuff the tasered man swiftly, Veronica also taps the talk button on her her headset to speak. "Stack down, several agents down with likely anemia, another injured," she says brusquely, unsure what exactly had befallen the youngest of them outside. "Send the ambulance to the front yard. Stack is also likely anemic, will need medical attention," she says, unaware of the healing process going on under her very nose as she's busy making sure that Stack has no weapons hidden on him now that he's handcuffed.
"Richards, Anderson, how's Messer?" she asks, unlikely to get a response from the former of the two agents, if she's already been teleported to the hospital with Mary-Anne Stack. Finally, having frisked Stack down, she peers at him, then the others, noticing the color in their cheeks has returned. "You … uh, you guys okay?" Meanwhile she slides her firearm to aim at Stack himself. "Don't even try that again…"
Teleporting? Yes, that's a good idea! Allison nods and looks to Mary-Anne. Before she can go though, she hits her radio. "It's serious. We're teleporting to the hospital. Now." Then she nods to Mary-Anne. "Teleport us to the hospital," she says, reaching for the girl's hand, her other hand keeping pressure on Liza's wound. Touch is required for a lot of abilities, and Allison would hate for someone to get left behind on this little trip. And her first trip via teleportation is worrying enough.
Dante's vision clears with his cheek pressed to a dirty floor, eyes wide and his heart hammering from adrenaline as it pushes suddenly healthy blood through his veins. His head whips up and he levels an amazed and terrified stare right at Isabella. This is it… What she does next will dictate his actions. If she gets violent, he has to take her down using whatever means necessary. If she freaks out, he has to try and calm her down. Honestly though, he's hoping for a plain fainting spell. Stack is straight-up forgotten for the moment.
Blood vessels, arteries. Vital organs. The flow of blood from extremities to the lungs to the heart and back. It all fades into focus, a sudden sharp other sense that overlays onto Isabella's awareness. Suddenly there are five beating hearts, including her own, that she can sense; five systems beating warm lifeblood that she can feel.
Something is wrong in four of them. That much she can sense in that split second before it all gets away from her. Something expands outwards, snapping out like a whip from her body-awareness, to replenish the iron that plummeted so desperately in Stack's attack. Just as unconscious, just as dangerous; but it acts in everyone's best interest. This time. As color comes back to her cheeks, there's a stunned moment.
No.
That can't have happened. No. No, that was a lie. The glimpse into the future was a lie, and this is a lie. She is Not. Evolved. Not a freak. Not a monster like them!
"NO!" Isabella shrieks, teeth bared in an animalistic snarl at Stack. "YOU did this!! YOU! You son of a bitch! You son of a bitch!" Oh hey, that's adrenaline. Dante, and any other agent quick on their feet, has the briefest instant to seize to knock her out before her newly manifested power lashes out at their target.
Gone. Blink of an eye, vacuum of air, Even before Allison can touch Mary-Anne, they're gone, no need for touch it seems with her brand of teleportation. All that's left is the trap and crimson spilt where Messer had lain. Two stops later, an open field beside a hidden campsite closer to the city, then into St. Lukes proper itself is where they end up appearing, three blinks of an eye barely time to register that they hand landed in the field. Messer will be fine in the end.
Jacob Stack doesn't resist the cuffing, too busy contending with the aftermath of the discharge, muscles twitching and unresponsive. The rifle fallen to the wayside, he's in no shape either even with Isabella's own manifestation correcting the destroyed red blood cells in his own system. No coherency enough to be afraid of Isabella. No response from Flora or Allison, gone out of range and that's frankly a good thing. No screams means there's no one stumbling around out there also sticking their feet into bear traps.
In the distance though, one can hear the sirens as the ambulances cue up and head on in. Calvary coming at the call that the mission has been accomplished.
Shock and confusion registers on Rossling's face as he sees Isabella break out into her tantrum. The agent's eyes go wide and the old man is struggling to get up to one knee, reaching out for Isabella with a startled and shaky hand. "A— Agent Dawson, control yourself!" There's not enough reflex or reaction in that old agent to realize what's happened, to notice that something has gone wrong inside of Isabella other than that the already high-tension agent has snapped.
He doesn't have the frame of mine to reach for what's been concealed inside of his jacket, hanging in the holster in Dante's frame of view. Desmond Harper may have said no more tranquilizer guns, but Albert Rossling is a stickler for the old school, for the old days. It may not be intentional insubordination, but it's there, in his under-arm holster, a point of detail keenly obvious in Dante Lupinetti's periphery.
Right within reach.
It takes Veronica a moment to catch on, taking the gun she levels at Stack and aiming it instead at Isabella, her eyes narrowed. She has no time to reload her taser (one more reason to prefer the tranq guns that hold at least a couple of darts!). "Dawson. He did not do this to you. It is not a catching contagious thing that you get from someone like the flu. It is not a disease. Stand down, or I will have to shoot. The suspect is restrained and not resisting arrest — you are out of line," the agent says, husky voice quiet and steady, her gun aiming at the other woman. She's hoping she can at least buy some time for someone else to get their tasers back in working order.
Dante is up on his feet in an instant, the sprier and supernaturally more aware agent thankfully more on the ball than the wiser Rossling. His eyes jerk from Isabella to Rossling like that holster had just shouted his name, and his lips quirk in a microsmile. Quickly, he's lifting the disoriented Rossling's arm, muttering a quick "Sorry, sir" and pulling the gun out of his holster.
Turn, aim, fire. Point blank, it takes less than two seconds for it all to unfold, and Isabella has a tranq dart sticking out of her arm. Ammo spent, Dante drops the gun to the floor and moves quickly to try and catch his "little sister" before she hits the floor. Here's hoping she doesn't get a chance to lash out with her powers before she goes down.
"NO!" Isabella shouts, tears unexpectedly starting to spill down her cheeks as anger radiates from the woman. "I tested negative! I'm not one! I can't be! I ca—" Blam! Ow. Whirling on Dante, the petite woman sets him in her murderous sights. He feels a strange pull, like tides, as his blood starts moving away from his hands. "You…" And there it starts coming back again as she loses her grip. Staggering a step, she lifts a heavy finger towards him. "I'm…I'm gonna kill you," she slurs. "I'm gonna…I…yoooou suck."
Thump. And down she goes.
Well I met you at the blood bank
From a distance, the Stack farm looks peaceful, a simple little farmstead perched atop a wide open field surrounded by forests, but the approaching noise of ambulance and police sirens, the flash of red and blue lights and plumes of dust coming down that dirt road will always be a memory in this place. Clouds gather overhead, gray out the skies and law-forcement personnel close in on the farmstead.
We were looking at the bags
A patch of bloody grass beside the house and a crushed silhouette where a girl once laid is what Elizabeth Messer has left behind, brought away from the farm by Jason Stack's sister. A cool breeze blows across the field, rustling the grass and the rusty old bear traps bristling up from within like hungry mouths.
Wondering if any of the colors
A heavy white van rolls up behind the police and the back doors split open, revealing white-clad men with plastic visored respirators. Rolling out of the back of the van an enormous casket-like container, they fold down the wheeled legs on the case and roll it towards the house, biohazard markings on the side, flashing lights and a rolling hiss of vapor coming out from the popped open lid.
Matched any of the names we knew on the tags
A half dozen miles way in the sterile white halls of a local hospital, Liza Messer is lifted up onto a hospital gurney. A pair of nurses push her shoulders down while an orderly pulls up her bloodied pant leg. A doctor on call lays a reassuring hand on her sweat slicked forehead while one of the nurses injects a needle into her arm, something for the pain, something to keep her calm. Standing there with her attention on Liza being wheeled away, Allison Richards watches those white hospital walls, turning to look back at Mary-Anne Stack who brought them here. Allison finds no one there.
You said see look it that's yours
Out the front door of the stack homestead, those gas-mask wearing men in their hazard suits wheel out that coffin. Laid out inside, Jacob Stack's eyes roll back in his head as a respirator mask covers his face and an IV is plugged into one arm. The hydraulic lid hisses shut, closing with a click as a green light comes on along the side. From high up, the Stack farmstead looks peaceful.
And I said I know it well
Limping out of the back of the house, Agent Rossling keeps his cell phone pressed to one ear, head shaking as he talks to the operations personnel on the other end, walking past gorups of police officers staking off portions of the lawn with yellow tape, blue and red flashing lights flickering behind him in blurred focus as he tries depserately to find out his partner's condition.
That secret that you know
Wheeled out on a gurney, Isabella Dawson's unconscious form is watched over closely by Dante Lupinette's hawkish profile on their emergence. Paramedics pull back one of her eyelids, flashing a light across her pupil while another looks as the tranquilizer dart that had knocked her out, holding it in one hand and rolling it between gloved fingers as he reads the dosage on the side of the dart.
That you don't know how to tell
Beneath fluorescent hospital lights, Allison Richards threads a lock of blonde hair behind one ear, looking up one end of the hallway and down the other, her brows creased into a furrow and mouth open in disbelief. Mary-Anne had gotten away, somehow. Maybe her ability hadn't ever really had control over her, maybe she'd willingly stuck around to try and save her brother…
it fucks with your honor
Black plastic wheels carry the hermetically sealed casked up towards the back of the containment team's van. Hoisted up onto metal rails, Jacob Stack's coffin is locked into place, pulled along hydraulic rails and then secured in the back of the van with a noisy clunk of magnetic locks. An LCD panel beside the coffin changes from a flat red display to green lettering that reads: Contained.
And it teases your head
Brown boots scuff across concrete, leading up to an empty bus stop. Cars roll past and pedestrian traffic fills the periphery with a myriad of colors of clothing and jackets. Clouds gray the skies overhead and pale fingers trace a line of a bus route down, down, down along a map. Looking up at her muted reflection in the bus schedule, Mary-Anne Stack offers a nervous smile to herself, turning as she hears the hiss of air-brakes from an approaching bus headed her way.
But you know that its good girl
As Allison Richards comes running out of the front doors of the hospital, blonde hair caught in the wind, she blocks her bangs with one hand, sweeping them away from her face. So many people in the crowd, passing up and down the sides of the street. The hiss of a bus' catches her attention, and as is pulls away from the bus stop, there's no one there…
Cause its running you with red.
…just a red and white posted plastered beside one seat for a Red Cross blood drive.