Lockdown - 50 by Alexander Shaw

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SUMMARY: Sorry to say that I think I'm down on readership. I hope everyone out there's doing ok and still reading. You know, when I get around to posting. Ah well.

Chapter 50 Scarlet Falcons.

--/Day 19 08:49 Hours/--
--/Elevator 519DPK/--

There had been another man wanting to get into this elevator, but the look of the four armed and armoured individuals inside had persuaded that another elevator might better suit his purposes. As he scurried away and the doors closed, the four individuals exchanged no words, no tactics, no strategies. Davan had made it clear that they had to work together in order to survive. He had received silent recognition. They all knew this was a trap, but they were going anyway.

Davan was wearing a ballistic armoured suit that both Grissom and Tenzanin had insisted on, as they were tired of cleaning up after his wounds. He had a pistol at his hip and a grenade launcher that he'd salvaged from the failed Blue Hawker attack. It was a nice weapon, to tell the truth. Beside him, silent, Torn was wearing still the stealth armour that the Workers Union had secured for them during the botched theft. His Mugaichek seemed never to leave his hands these days.

Behind those two, Tenzanin and Grissom stood side by side. The wiry Carene was wearing the sword that he'd brought from G'frain, the cranky weapon dealer who nonetheless dealt in masterpieces and masterpieces only. It was a sabre, the same weight and length as his previous weapon, but with an extra shine to the blade. Grissom was in full armour, K'kinn's armour. He was decked out with guns and grenades. He clutched a heavy assault cannon with a stub-barrel.

The elevator stopped moving. The doors pinged open at level 6-106.

--/+0 minutes 0 seconds/--
--/Level 6-106 Storeroom CI0-8/--

"They're coming." Rurl said. He, like the rest of the Falcons, was wearing full combat hardsuit, helmet and all. Like all Colari, he towered over those that were his companions and thus he carried the heaviest weapons. There were fourteen assembled here. Sergeant Rurl himself, the untrustworthy sniper Cirrik, Captain Gerren, and eleven of the best assault troopers he'd ever had the distinction of serving with in his distinguished Mercenary career. All of them bar the sniper were carrying battle rifles and side arms.

"Good." Captain Gerren said. "To your positions!" The assembled squad scattered, spreading in a rough semi-circle around the back of the huge storeroom. There was sparse cover, the Falcons had spent time moving it before the arranged time of the conflict. Packing and shipping crates were in the corners, serving mostly as elevated firing positions.

Cirrik the sniper was up in the maintenance gantries. He had a dozen tricks and toys ready for whoever thought they could try and take him out. He was an expert in staying alive despite the odds, and he had his toys to thank for that. The rest of the squad was thus far unaware that he'd killed the Samerro man, they never let him have any fun, so he just didn't tell them.

"Bring out the girl." Gerren said, taking up his position in the centre of the room. Another Falcon, Irrin, brought forwards the small Ragnorian girl that they were using as bait.

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