The Mall

[dragonflynz]

Even as I moved to dive the bullets stunk me like a swarm of killer bees, each one distinct but united in purpose. The ground hit me like a bag of frozen peas from isle twenty-two, the kind that fall off when someone is slammed into the other side of the shelf by a shotgun burst.

But I tried to concentrate on the present. My body armour had taken half of the damage but handed me the pain on a platter. I made a deliberate tactical decision to stay where I was under the cover of the smoke while the other two combatants occupied each other.

In the distance my helicopter sounded like a cat trying to cough something up it had swallowed last night, mingling with the sirens, fading into black...

Now my skull was the bag of frozen peas.

[danielwoodfield2]

Shaun had arrived on the scene way too late, his boss would not be pleased. Shaun gingerly slipped through the broken glass curtain of the remains of the doors to the mall. Around him lay the bodies of many innocents, but they were not his prime concern. Ex agent Clarke Anderson stood across the room from him, the two taken up postions were local gangster and pimp Chris Weasley and wannabe action hero Martin Scrips. Clarke was his primary concern, he must be brought in without a mark on him. Now the hard part begins Shaun thought, loading up the OICW

[danielwoodfield]

Now Clarke was scared. The first two noobs were just a minor obsticle, but he knew that anything to do with The Collective was trouble. And the OICW in the other man's hands didn't help the situation. "Wait, we can talk about this" Clarke said, trying to keep his positon unknown. About now was the time to run, thought Clarke. Clarke dropped the m4, taking up a P90 for easier use, and readied himself for the most dificult escape in his carrear.

[dragonflynz]

I saw it through the haze, figures appearing everwhere, the cast of some insane drama lining up for mugshots while the actor's names flashed against the shimmering screen.

To survive, make no mistakes. Take no risks; every gamble is one more than you can afford. The fog was clearing; the title music had faded and the film had switched from smokey shots of feet and corners to the deadly clarity of another action scene.

I climbed to my feet, clutching the Desert Eagle - totally unsuitable, totally reckless - and started clawing my way back along the wall.

[captainankh]

An anonymous figure in a black coat peered through the rubble. He was only partly surprised to see the building in pieces. It was obvious that this was going to get serious for someone very soon.
Clutching the hilt of his sword, he began to wonder why the hell he'd brought a sword.

[Chris Wesley]

Chris saw that the fighting had stopped. he wasted no time. the P-90 was up, and he was looking through the sights, straight at clarke's head. he fired a precise, three round burst, hoping to catch him off guard. as for martin, he didn't seem like t threat at present.

[danielwoodfield]

Clarke smirked, ammused by the inaccuracy of such a weapon. The bullets flew harmlessly to Clarke's left. Clark raised his own hand, and held out the most feared weapon - a handheld nuclear device, capable of killing everyone within a 500m radius. "Now you are faced with a dilemma. If anyone kills me, this blast will decimate the surrounding area. You let me go, everyone survives and nobody gets the booty. Put down your guns, and just walk away. You do not know how deep this goes, who your bosses realy work for, and why I am so wanted. You will never understand. Just walk away, there is no point in going on." Clarke raised his arms in a cucifix letting the deepness of the situation sink in.

[captainankh]

'Damn suicide bombers. Nobody's going to walk away, moron.'
This is why he hated people. They were so moronic.

Standing, and without contemplating consequences, he rose up on top of the rubble heap (which was probably once either a wall or a ventilation shaft) and leapt down towards Mr Anderson.
Grabbing the man's arm, he hit the ground rolling, twisting Clark's wrist around and bringing him to the floor with enough force to dislocate the man's shoulder and wresting the nuke from his hand.
Just to even the score a little (and to lessen the risk of being shot in the back) he dashed across the arena, drawing his sword.
A bolt of electric power flashed across the blade.
Vaulting off the ground he brought the weapon around in a swift one-handed arc, smashing through Wesley's gun like a toy. (At least, he considered guns toys.)
It was only fitting to speak.
"Now tell me why you killed this place - or I'll give you a bomb..."