The Great Hunt


carrie_icon.gif minea_icon.gif

Guest Appearance by

darla_icon.gif and magnes_icon.gif

Scene Title The Great Hunt
Synopsis Carrie finally gets a bead on Minea and there's a hunt in the Ruin between a company agent and a fallen agent. Darla aides in the great escape.
Date July 23, 2009

Ruins of Midtown

Standing in the ruins of Midtown, it's hard to believe New York is still a living city.

There's life enough around the fringes — the stubborn, who refused to rebuild somewhere else; the hopeful, who believe the radiation is gone, or that they somehow won't be affected. Businesses, apartment complexes, taxis and bicycles and subways going to and fro — life goes on. Perhaps more quietly than in other parts of the city, shadowed by the reminder that even a city can die, but it does go on.

Then there is the waste. The empty core for which the living city is only a distant memory. Though a few major thoroughfares wind through the ruins, arteries linking the surviving halves, and the forms of some truly desperate souls can occasionally be glimpsed skulking in the shadows, the loudest noise here is of the wind whistling through the mangled remnants of buildings. Twisted cords of rebar reach out from shattered concrete; piles of masonry and warped metal huddle on the ground, broken and forlorn. Short stretches of road peek out from under rubble and dust only to disappear again shortly afterward, dotted with the mangled and contorted forms of rusting cars, their windows long since shattered into glittering dust.

There are no bodies — not even pieces, not anymore. Just the bits and pieces of destroyed lives: ragged streamers fluttering from the handlebar which juts out of a pile of debris; a flowerbox turned on its side, coated by brick dust, dry sticks still clinging to the packed dirt inside; a lawn chair, its aluminum frame twisted but still recognizable, leaning against a flight of stairs climbing to nowhere.

At the center of this broken wasteland lies nothing at all. A hollow scooped out of the earth, just over half a mile across, coated in a thick layer of dust and ash. Nothing lives here. Not a bird; not a plant. Nothing stands here. Not one concrete block atop another. There is only a scar in the earth, cauterized by atomic fire. This is Death's ground.

Perseverance plays off. Sporadic as it may be. The ruins is a vast and expansive, dangerous place. There's certain entry points that one can slip in, escape notice of the police. Homeless live there, drug labs buried below the streets and in the rubble where they're safe from he majority of the police force as many are loathe to venture in for fear of lingering radiation.

Really, who wants to die of cancer or even radiation poisoning.

So it was safe to deduce that Minea would be smart. Stick to the safer area's, have a few entry points and not just one. It had been a long shot really, to pick up where she came in. But she'd struck gold in little Italy. a surveillance camera had showed her passing by. Not coming back, but at least passing towards the ruins. A few days later, same deal. There was no pattern to when she used that way in, but there it was. Twice meant that perhaps she might do it again.

Then came the word, filtered to Carrie as company non restricted information goes. Minea had surfaced in the Financial District. She'd been on hand at an incident at the Police Precinct that housed SCOUT. Nobody had thought to stop her since no one of the non-company types had known she should have been detained. Lower Manhattan, that was for sure.

Minea's set out this afternoon, pick her way through the ruins and head off for her storage room. Phoenix is busy and occupied with plans to invade Pinehearst and she's not part of it. No invitation to that party. The brunette's boots make noise as she scuffs her foot against some metal on the ruined concrete, looking around as she goes.

Once a sniper, always a sniper. Carrie has spent hours upon hours of her free time checking over the ruins, camped out watching entry points. Dressed in her old BDU pants, well worn military boot, a brown shirt, not to mention the combat vest she's wearing, she'd look out of place if she wasn't in the ruins. Her black hair is pulled tight back on her head, an old 101 airborne ball cap pushed down on her head shading her eyes from the sun. She's going Minea hunting.

A sniper scope in her steady hands, Carrie is prone on the rubble strewn floors of an abandoned building only a few floors up. Her eyes scan the ruins slowly watching for movement, the scope coming up each time she sees something. This time the scope comes up and she goes still, a smile touches her lips. "Well, well…"

Carrie climbs to her feet and straightens her vest, checking her stuff. She's been feeling crappy for avoiding Magnes all this time, only seeing him now and then really. Seems her dedication is finally paying off. She stows her scope and starts down the stairs, climbing down the parts where it's missing and quickly hurries out of the building in a crouch.

Now is the hour… now is the time.. She moves as quietly as she can through the streets, working on a course that will make them come together. Reaching behind her as she comes to the corner of a building. So very close, she things as that smile plays on her lips. The tranq gun is pulled out of the holster and Carrie lifts it slowly, one hand cupping the bottom of it her finger lightly touching the trigger, and like a good sniper.. she waits. As soon as she sees that head of brunette hair, she'll pull the trigger and pray she doesn't drop this shot. She always seems to drop one.

Carrie would have had the shot. Minea checking the other way instead of Carrie's way. When the trigger is pulled and the projectile flies through the air. Minea's jerked to the side at someone darts out from ahead and the dart thwips against the stone wall. A sound the Minea hears, and a dart that Minea see's.

"Fuck. Who'd they send!" She calls out, swiftly looking and taking cover behind some pavement that was ripped up and put at angles, providing cover from Carrie. She knows the range of the darts.

"Son of a Bitch.. " She growls softly, moving to press her back to the wall. "Come out, Come out, where ever you are, Minea." Carrie calls with a mock sweetness to her sweetness, as she loads another dart. "I've come to drag your ass back.. Well…" Her voice suddenly sounds very hollow and cold. "…back in the same condition you left my trainee." Yep, she means to fuck Minea up. The gun snaps shut and she crouches so that she can hurry across a small open space to an old beat up Lincoln. Hey, it's got nice hubcaps at least, chrome spinners.

Inching down the car she flips her cap around so that the bill of it lays along the back of her neck and doesn't obstruct her view. Once close to the end she drops down on her stomach she peers under the car, past the car towards Minea's hiding spot. Rolling on her side, she moves her tranq gun where she can sight down it towards the barrier waiting again. She's a patient woman.

That's the problem when it's company agents, one against the other. Minea's already on the move. military training beforehand, she's not staying in one spot and there's no lack of cover. The only real different is that Minea's not got a tranq gun on her. She's got real bullets. "I taught him a lesson Carrie!. I could have killed him. But I didn't. He'll grow up to have little babies still and learn that when the company says jump, you jump, you don't bother asking how high!" After talking, she's on the move again, gun out, safety off.

She hears it, the sound of feet crunching… On the move. Carrie rolls to her feet and slowly moves in that direction, her tranq gun sweeping the area, ready. "Might have taught him a lesson.. but.. your still wanted." That small cold smile returns. "And I will look forward to bringing you back. Your too dangerous to leave on the streets, Minea. Next time you might not be so nice." She crouches behind the cement Minea just left. Watching to each side of her looking for signs of where she went.

Minea's not biting, not speaking because it might give her away. Behind her is alley, abandoned dumpster. God, she can understand Carries attachment to Magnes, but… The former agents jaw is tight as she moves backwards, no sound, safety off. She doesn't want to kill the woman, but she can't be caught. Her brown eyes scan back and forth as she goes, ever inching backwards.

Unable to keep sitting there when Minea would be on the run, Carrie straightens from behind the torn up cement. A single sweep shows the immediate area is clear, having only been seconds too late to see Minea back into the alley. So she takes a chance and affords herself a look at the ground to look for fresh marks in the crumbled dust and wreckage. She slowly comes around her hiding place looking at the various things, but then she notices the alley. Hmmm..

Too late Carrie. Situational awareness. Watch everything, don't look down. Or at least if you are, take cover. Minea see's Carrie appear, and doesn't hesitate. The bark of her handgun reverberates through the alley, the report enough to ring in Minea's ears and the smell. The neat hole in Carrie's shoulder is likely being felt not long on the hind legs of the sound and Minea's already tearing away, swinging around the dumpster to fling a door pen and bolt inside the abandoned building. Her phone out and pressing letters.

There isn't even time to react when Carrie hears the gun and her shoulder jerks back with the force of the bullet's impact, her tranq gun goes skittering across the ground. The force of it sends her stumbling back, with a small cry of pain, against the cement. The fingers of her good arm grips at the rough stone to keep her from falling.

Recovering quickly, Carrie glares at the alley. "That's it.. You wanna play that way." She retrieves the tranq quickly, slipping it back in it's holster at her back as she jogs across the street. Her injured arm is held close to her body, the fabric already darkening as blood oozes out of the wound. as her good hand fumbles to pull out her handgun, trying to ignore the ache of her shoulder.

Thumbing the safety off, she presses against the corner of the ally, glancing quickly down the dark length for Minea. Only spotting the open door, she hurries into the ally towards it, keeping out of sight of the door opening. Reaching the open door she presses against the wall next to it and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She can do this.

With a practiced sweep of the doorway, Carrie steps in as quietly as she can, ready to pull the trigger if she even glimpses Minea. Blood running down her arm now to leave small dark red drops behind her.

It's a back hall that leads off to presumably other places in the building, there's closed doors all along its length till Carrie reaches one that reads stairs. This building managed to ride out the peripherals of the bomb well and if there had been money, and weren't the distance it's already in the ruins, it'd be cleaned up.

There's the sound of feet, undisguised, heading out of sight, thump thump thump.

Gotcha. Is Carrie's first thought when she hears the footsteps… but… It could be a trap too. Slipping in the door, she keeps her back pressed against the wall and slowly moving up the stairs as quickly as she can so as not to make a sound, leaving a smear of blood on the wall. A couple of floors up, she licks her lips nervously as she decides to take the risk.

Gun coming up, Carrie takes a deep breath and steps out where she can see up the stair well gun aimed up and sweeping around. If she gets lucky maybe she can return the favor and fire off a few shots at her in hopes of sinking a bullet into the rogue agent. Pay back can be a bitch. Either way, after a glance, she'll pull back against the wall and continue up quickly checking for signs of the doors being opened, dusty old buildings are good for that..

There's a flash, a hand comes out to steady Minea on the stairwell and she makes the near fatal mistake of looking down to see where Carrie is when the woman comes in. A bullet shears off hair but finds no purchase in the brunette, not today, or at least not right now.

"You don't want to do this Carrie! Go back to wherever they have you stationed now. Forget this, forget you saw me. I don't intend to kill you. You know and I know, I'm a good shot. I got your shoulder on purpose"

Minea's voice reverberates down the cement stairwell of the derelict apartments heart. Fifth floor for Minea, bottom floor for Carrie. "I'm giving you a chance to back off"

Back pressed against against the wall, Carrie's shoulder is feeling rather heavy, the pain getting more insistent as the numb of shock starts to wear off. … not to mention she is starting to feel tired. She doesn't let that fill her voice, as she calls up. "You know I can't do that, Minea. You know I can't just walk away and let you go." The back of her legs are starting to feel the burn of the climb, her progress is slowing thanks to the exertion and blood loss.

"I gotta try my best to bring you in. I'm sure you'd do the same." Pausing, she gives a soft hiss of pain as she pulls out her blackberry. It's hard to do with bloody fingers, but Carrie tries to send a text to Magnes. «Midtown Ruins.. Send Help.» She sends it, but realizes she doesn't exactly know where. She dumps it back in her pocket and continues up, gun still held at ready, even if it shakes a bit.

"It's always a choice Carrie" Minea yells down before yanking open a door on the seventh floor. Apartments on either side, looted and ransacked, but she needs the north side. North side was where the fire escapes looked to be the sturdiest. Down the hall Minea bolts, breathing heavy somewhat from her climb but not having to deal with what the other agent is dealing with. There's a second set of stairwells around the corner and with a crack of one foot against the door, Minea slams it open, making it obvious that she's gone down it.

The former agent then doubles back ten feet and slithers in through an apartment door, trying to disturb it as little as possible. She picks her way over broken furniture as quietly as possible and making for a broken window that will lead out onto the fire escape. Escape is at hand for the travelling man, is how the line goes and with luck, she can escape Carrie and whomever she's called for backup.

It's not exactly a silent approach made, as someone comes in behind Carrie — feet pounding on the tiled ground floor, breath labored as if the person has been running a while. Average height, light build; dark skin, a shoulder-length mop of black curls; drab olive shirt, denim shorts, well-worn and scuffed running shoes. Darla plants her feet, looks up at Carrie for about a grand total of half a second. "Oops!" The exclamation is accompanied by a loud pop not far from the agent's head, something sharp and abrupt, not unlike a gunshot but not loud enough to damage hearing. Darla then proceeds to sprint back the other way, at least far enough as to have a wall or so for cover.

By time Carrie reaches the 7th floor she's not doing so great, her whole shoulder black with blood, trials of it line her arm… yet she presses on. Wiping her gun hand across a sweaty forehead, Carrie bumps up against the door frame, her eyes follow the line of footprints. This gives her some hope, but then something hits near her, causing her to ducks down. What the hell!? Ducking on the other side of the door way she swing out to fire at the retreating figure. Though in her present condition the shots are wild, making it harder to hit the target.

Once the person is out of out of sight, Carrie doesn't wait a round too long.. She fires another shot to give her a few precious moments to run down the hallway. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing, it allows her to actually run. Spotting the other stair well, she makes for that… Especially, now that she's at a disadvantage. It's one thing when it was one on one. She hopes Magnes got the message.

The last couple of feet she stumbles into the door, crying out when her bad shoulder hit it, leaving a smear of blood on the door. She pushes the bar so that she can stumble through.

Down and down and down. Like a metal rabbit hole only there's no small door, not bottles that say 'drink me' or even a white rabbit with a pocket watch. Climb down, dart left, climb down, dart right, over and over until she's at the bottom and jumps off. Not quite sticking that landing, minea rolls and aims for the side, planting hands down and pushing herself up into a crouch making herself small as possible. The poor backpack on her back going through hell.

But there's no Carrie sticking her head out through the window and looking down so the former agent tucks herself in some place safe real quick. Observe. Watch. Oblivious to the women inside and the injured one above. Shoulder shot. She'll survive. Minea wasn't going for lethal.

Shoulder shot, times two. Back against the wall, Darla touches fingertips against the red line scored across her left arm and swears, soft but heartfelt, at the sting of salt-sweat in an open wound. Never mind the throbbing bite of the graze itself. She shakes herself off, charges headlong down the stairs and back outside; there's advantages to being the new arrival. In the sharp relief of afternoon sunlight and black building shadow, it's hard to pick out things like hiding people. Especially when trying not to present a target yourself. Darla's right hand taps a button on the earpiece mostly hidden beneath that thick black hair as she keeps moving. "Spot."

Magnes arrived not long ago, following the blood trail to the building after pinpointing the area when he heard the gunshots. Other agents are on the way, but he had to go ahead, he's the one who can fly, and Carrie could be in trouble.

Remembering his police training, he holds a tranq in front of him, aimed down at the ground, with a more lethal weapon sheathed at his side. He doesn't make foot steps, or whooshing noises, he silently floats above the ground, looking behind corners within the building as he gradually tries to follow the sound of commotion.
Other side of the building, hunkered down beside a dumpster and other debris. Her gun out, Minea's listening, eyes perpetually searching up, down, left, right. How the fuck had Carrie found her? She'd varied her entry points, she took precautions. She burned money in taxi and bus rides.

Minea pokes her head out, looking left and right before she looks up.

Right up at Magnes. Figures. What's her luck. There's a shot fired out at him, deliberately missing, warn him off and surprise him before she darts off and around a corner, heading for the exit out of the alley, and hopefully, into wherever Darla is coming, or a way out.

No.. No Carrie, she's too busy trying to hurry her way down the stair case as fast as she can without falling down the lot of them. Hand sliding along the railing leaves blood smears behind at regular intervals, until she stumbles to the bottom.

She's running out of energy fast… the wound might not be lethal, but it's doing a good job of slowing her down. Pausing at the bottom, she strains to hear over the sound of her own heavy breathing. Nothing.. "Dammit.." She hisses, bumping her head against the wall behind her. But she doesn't stay long making her way through the lower portion of the building looking for an exit. The sound of a gun shot makes her pick up her pace, fear catching her in the stomach.

Finding a door, a old fade sign with the corners curling declares it and emergency exit she rests against it. She pressing a cheek to the cold steel and slowly eases it open enough to peek out with an eyes, making sure the way is clear.

Directions to Minea's position helpfully relayed a second after the revealing gunshot, Darla nearly bounces off Dahl when she turns the corner of the building. This time, her minor profanity is purely mental: crap, there's two. But flying things are always vulnerable to wind, right?

Her right hand lifts, palm towards the floating Magnes, fingers splayed; a ribbon of air draws itself up from the street around the black woman and the ex-agent, ruffling their hair, throws itself at the flier. Darla's left hand fastens onto Minea's arm, hauls her along as the Ferryman turns and runs down the street, clear intent being to get out of Dodge. As in, now.

Again the tap to the earpiece. "Fox, mouse. Bird at six. Tell me we've got a second somewhere close."

Understandably not seeing a blast of air coming at him, he gets slammed into a wall, then slowly slides to the floor, grounding as he stumbles in a rather disoriented manner. Magnes, still trying to look around for Carrie, isn't moving anywhere, a bit concerned about invisible blasts of air and where exactly it came from. Death around every corner.

There is someone grabbing her arm and… there's a gun in Darla's face till the words out of the woman's lips and that she's knocking Magnes around with.. TK or, no, no that's wind. The gun is lowered and she's off, running away with the black woman and away from Magnes and Carrie. This was too close for comfort but at least she came out with nothing more than dirty palm.

Finding it clear, Carrie starts to slip out the door quietly, looking both way. Quickly the clip is dropped out out of her gun into her waiting hand and another is slapped into. But then she hears a sound inside, it's muffles through some of the walls. She listens quietly for a moment, but hears nothing.

Then she sees it a flash of movement inside. The gun comes up quickly, but just as she starts to squeeze the trigger Magnes turns her way. "Magnes!" Carrie yelps in surprise and lets go of her gun before she shoots him, letting it clatter to the ground. "I told you to get help not come here." She whispers fiercely, while reaching up to finally press a hand to her shoulder, wincing at the pain and the squish of blood against her fingers. It only takes a few moments to realization to sink in. "Fuck.. I lost her… Dammit.. " Swaying suddenly with exhaustion, Carrie stumbles back to lean agaisnt the wall.

"People came with me, but they couldn't get to this location in time, so I came myself." Magnes moves a hand gently to her arm, trying to lower the gravity so her arm won't be pulling down so much, thus possibly hurting less. "I'll fly you back, alright? You need a doctor, fast."

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