RP: Bounty Hunts [Bounty Hunts] Prologue - Meet the Hunters

It seemed the lady-goon was seriously caught off guard when Sam drew her blades and her reaction even surprised the bounty hunter. What had started as a weak, poorly aimed swing on a whim ended the fight then and there. Perhaps the woman had never encountered a vibro weapon before; the knife draw was a reasonable tactic and might have stood a chance against a regular blade, though Dao’s were quite powerful, even standard. Whatever the case, she’d been extremely lucky with her timing, a second or two short on her step back and the attempted block would have occurred much closer to the body, risking a connection with her side or arm. Before the end of the lady-goon’s severed blade clinked to the floor, Sam had moved up and aimed the vibrating tip of her right blade at the center of her opponent’s throat, mere inches away; her left blade was held more casually, resting upon her left shoulder with the vibro module turned off.

Sam turned her head to look upon Mittens, but kept her weapon aimed at the lady-goon on the floor, “Alright, you look here, Mittens, put my Killer on the ground and slide it over next to what’s left of the chair there,” Sam began, pointing with her other blade over her shoulder at the largest piece of chair left, several feet away, behind Sam and to her right, “otherwise, your girlfriend here might ‘get dead.’” The bounty hunter wanted her weapon back without getting to close to the gangster and felt this would likely be the best way to retrieve it. If Mittens tried to pull a fast one and slide the little energy weapon to his pal on the floor at her mercy, Sam would see it coming and the lady-goon might lose another hand. “After I pick up my Killer, I want you and Miss Mohawk here to toss any other weapons you’ve got onto the overturned table, then…” the bounty hunter gave the gangster a cold stare, “…you’re going to sit tight and answer my questions to my satisfaction, get me?” she finished, taking a quick glance down at the lady-goon to be certain she wasn’t trying anything, then back to Mittens. Once he slid her “Killer” over, Sam would slowly back up, take both blades in her left hand, then kneel down, pick up the gun and keep the two crooks covered with it until she had the information she sought.

Mittin's did as he was told and tossed the Bounty Hunters gun to her, the handle on the gun was a bit banged up but otherwise still working condition. He then kicked back in his chair, "I just don' want any of my guys dien' in some restraint," the sound of boots meeting metal rang as he set his feet on the table, "Why don't cha sit up at the table, probably beats standin' out there."

Upon placing the gun back on the table where he found it, a few hairs upon Mittin's neck fell as the bartender holstered his man cannon. The man does not like guns shooting up the place. Also the waitress was rescued mid battle by another and was slumped in a chair fainted while a co-worker was fanning her in attempt to revive the poor woman. Everyone else continued to ignore the isolated incident.


-----


"Well I should have figured that out," said the group leader as his eyes looked past Dimitri as his men groaned as they were getting up and leaving the scene. "Ya I know about the bitch, my guys were in charge of picking her up. The guys I did the pickup with were some mean dudes but nothin' ya can't handle heh."

Dimitri smiled, eyebrows still frowning as he aimed the gun at the leader. "Good, then we're on the same page here. Who were they?" He was aware that the other guys were starting to get up, and was a bit on the edge about getting picked at from behind, so he took out his own Zen Armament .45 pistol out from it's place beneath his suit's vest.

Now he was wielding two guns. If he heard any footsteps behind him getting louder, he swore he'd start blind shooting backwards, if not turn to aim and shoot if necessary. For now, the aim had to remain on the leader. He did not stop looking at the leader as he took out the other gun, keeping it next to his left hip.

The “Little Killer” clattered across the floor in roughly the general direction Sam had asked for and came to rest near the splintered remains of the chair. The bounty hunter carefully backed away from Miss Mohawk, still on the floor, and soon reached her little weapon. She deactivated the vibro unit in her right blade, took the left in her right hand and slid the two swords back into their sheath on her back with a satisfying click before snatching her little energy pistol up. The minor damage to the weapon’s grip elicited a muttered curse from the bounty hunter as she rose from her crouched position. Damaged or not, Sam leveled the “Killer” menacingly at Mittens and slowly approached the gangster, keeping a close eye on his lady friend as well. It seemed the bartender had finally finished with the other customers and involved himself in the minor conflict to some degree, “encouraging” Mittens to settle things peacefully. Had the gangster tried to use her “Killer” against her, he would have found it less than effective; the Steenplast plates in Sam’s ballistic vest were tough enough to defeat the low powered energy blasts that it could produce. Either way, the bartender’s resolution to the conflict beat getting shot by a little short-range energy pistol any day.

It seemed like Mr. Mittens was quite the cool and collected fellow, either that or beyond self centered, as his pals had received a beating right before his eyes and it appeared he was content with sitting back and spilling his guts. Sam would not sit, and she would not put her little weapon away until she had what she’d come for and left the grungy little bar behind. Circling the new table so that she stood across its width from Mr. Mittens, facing the bar’s entrance at the same time to avoid any more surprises, the bounty hunter stopped and glared down at the oh-so-nonchalant criminal before her. “Alright you bald bastard, you tell me everything you know about the abduction of Rin Carpenter right here, right now and no more’ve your goddamn games, get me?” she snapped, emphasizing her words with several little jabs of her energy pistol. “You said you and your ilk transported the girl, from where to where and for whom? And who’s this that knows where she was taken, hm?” the bounty hunter asked, her questions coming in a rapid fire barrage. She kept a firm grip on her weapon and made certain to take regular quick glances at the two disabled goons and their female comrade nearby.

The female mohawk was gritting her teeth with the sword so close and gave a small sigh when it moved away. She and the other goons rose up but kept their distance while giving worried glances at their leader wondering what he was doing.

"There's no reason fer pointin' dat gun at anyone, I think ya proven yourself a tough customer." Mittins said as he lowered his feet and rested his arms on the table, "The transport job was in two groups, my guys was the second one that took the girl to the warehouse. The man is none other than Greg Vanderson, a former merc who came here looking to make it big if you know what I mean. As for his other guys I don' get a good look at im' but I say about 8 guys." He then pointed at one of his goons, "Ronsly, get up an show the lady where we dropped off the girl, and make it quick so she doesn't have to kill ya too.”

One of the generic mohawk henchmen gave a “why always me?” look before walking up to the bounty hunter leaving an arm and a half length away from here waiting for her to head outside and so he can start leading to the warehouse.

“Don' get me wrong, I'ma only doing this otherwise we both be headless by the time you fire that gun,” Mittin's said he eyed the bartender who returned to cleaning some glass but obviously keeping an eye on the action. “Otherwise good luck, that bastard insulted me much more than ya could and didn' pay us in full. As ya can see, your more suitable to fight his guys than we could.”


-----


The goons creeping on Dimitri backed off and decided to leave leaving their leader alone, such wonderful loyalty.

“Look I don't know much,” started the leader while keeping his hands up, “It was some idiots of the Bloodpaw gang who dropped the girl off on us, our job was to get her to our second group who would transport her to some warehouse. I think my boss told me something about it but I seem to have forgotten.”

“You mean to Warehouse 13 near the 3rd district near 'Coin Love?' “ spoke a seductive female's voice, as the robed Yamatain slowly approached the bounty hunter as she spoke into her sleeve, her left arm raised just above her mouth so the scared man could hear her but not see her mouth. “It was something these men were saying out loud at work before they took a... liking to me.”

The crescent scarred mohawk looked a little pissed at the remark, but didn't make any movement.

Dimitri slowly put his gun into it's place inside his suit's vest. He kept aiming the gun at the grunt before him. Upon hearing the woman's remark, he was curious as to where she knew these guys from... but he decided he would ask those questions later.

Money spoke way louder than curiosity.

"Warehouse 13, huh? I don't suppose they're keeping her there right now?" Dimitri grinned.

Sam let the gun drop, but kept it firmly gripped in her gloved right hand. It seemed things were relatively under control now and Mitten’s minions would think twice before trying anything else, especially with the well-armed bartender keeping an eye on things. The bounty hunter stood quietly, listening carefully to everything the smalltime gangster had to say. It seemed the kidnapping had been relatively well organized, using different groups of criminals for transport to diminish the chances of a potential investigator uncovering a direct lead. That, coupled with the fact that no ransom demand had been made, suggested to Sam that the abduction had had a much deeper purpose. There was clearly a reason for taking the girl, perhaps a political rival was playing dirtier than usual or some sort of crime ring had a grudge against the mayor. Had he been tough on crime? Looking around the bar, Sam couldn’t easily believe that was the case. Maybe, just maybe, the Kohanians were responsible, they could be bitter over the arrival of Nepleslians on New Kohana and this was some sort of delayed act of revenge. She hadn’t seen many of them around New Aio, so that made their involvement relatively unlikely. Whatever the case, it seemed a fellow named “Greg Vanderson” was involved, whoever he was.

The reverence Mitten’s tone seemed to convey when mentioning the man suggested he was somebody, perhaps a quick check of the city’s bounty database was in order before proceeding further, gaining more information on this Greg and his eight pals could prove to be a valuable investment of time. When Mittens called one of his goons over, the cretin who’d been knocked by the table and stepped on earlier, Sam turned to keep an eye on the man as he approached. Fortunately, he stopped a fair distance away and it seemed he knew well enough not to try anything funny. She turned her attention back to Mittens as he explained his situation. It seemed he wasn’t exactly fond of Vanderson to begin with and had no real qualms about selling him out. When he was finished, Sam spoke up, “Okay, then, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” she said, smirking. The bounty hunter moved around the left side of the table, away from the lady-goon and the fellow with the injured arm, and headed for the door, followed by the Ronsly fellow. She stopped and spun on her heel, turning back toward the bald gangster and his underlings, “You keep out of trouble, or we might meet again, you get me?” she said, finally holstering energy pistol. With that, she spun back around and continued toward the door. While passing the bartender, she turned her head to face him briefly, “Sorry about the chair,” she said, then strode quickly out the door.

Once outside and a fair ways from the entrance to the “Greased Wind,” Sam stopped beside the gutter and addressed her guide, “Alright Ronsly, where exactly are you taking me? And if it’s far, how far are we talkin?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips while eyeing the man with a skeptical gaze. If it wasn’t too far, she’d follow the goon. If it was farther then she would have liked to walk with a criminal, she’d just have to get directions from the cretin and hope her bike’s SatNav computer could find the way. She’d need to get to her bike either way, parked a few blocks over in a nicer part of town, to retrieve some of her gear. Binoculars for an initial peek at the site, her DataJockey to pull up any information on Greg and his bunch and her PDW incase she decided to actually enter the location for a look around. If there was even a hint of a chance she could end up facing nine hardened crooks in some back alley or other seedy location, she wanted to bring her meanest toy to the party.

"Heh." Dimitri put the other gun away on the opposite side of the vest. A tongue caressed the inner side of a bruised cheek; those chains had really hurt.

He arranged his suit a little; all that movement had loosened it here and there. "Well, sorry to ruin your night. It's just my job, that's all. No hard feelings, right?"

The bounty hunter smirked, then looked at the girl. "Y'know, usually you at the very least thank a random stranger that saved your life. I'm feelin' kind of offended right now. Did you want to get raped, or what?" Dimitri took out a box of cigarettes, opened the box, and put his lips to the cylinders jutting out from it. The other hand that wasn't carrying the box flicked the tip of the cigarette looking away from his mouth with two fingers. The cigarette lit up, and he began to smoke it.

He put the cigarette box and both hands into his pants' pockets. It'd be nice if he got an answer.

"Jeez it's only a few minutes walk yo," the mohawken gang member said with less than enthusiasm in leading a woman who could shoot him in the back at any moment. He started off slow while picking out the shortest route possible to keep his life intact.


-----


"Why Mister Dimitri, you wound me, why would I want to be done by such ugly creatures," the Yamatain woman said still behind her sleeve. A good look at her notes that she is a woman with curves and wearing a kimono that was long and not made for outdoor travel. Her cloths were a little dirty now, and what little of her face it seems she was wearing white face makeup before it was ruined.

Her non face blocking hand fished a chip from her upper lady compartment and handed Dimitri a memory chip, "This is a map, you might need it more than I do," She said with a giggle considering him as a newcomer, "It should help you find the warehouse you are looking for."

She then began to walk away but did turn back one last time, still hiding the lower part of her face, "If you by chance find where I work, ask for Umiko and you shall receive a very... SPECIAL, service." She managed to sound subtly seductive despite hinting at something.


------- Time Passes! -----------


Location: Warehouse 13
Time: Evening

The "Coin Love" warehouse district, never a place more bland despite various shapes of infrastructure. In fact the district is a group of 6 buildings that happen to be located between a Freespacer Shrine, and a hotel. Needless to say the cheapest rooms of the hotel overlook this sad landscape of silver, patchwork buildings arranged like the dots of the 6 on a 6-sided die. One could assume they were made by Freespacers under supervision of humans considering the trademark of random things glued together doesn't seem to apply to the exterior.

On the other hand, Warehouse #13 does look like it could fly away. A two storied building built from the remains of two shuttles has strangely two wings pointing up with the shuttle head facing up as though it would love to fly above the walls surrounding New Aio. Otherwise it looks like a box with squares used as "windows" and entrances that barely pass as a "Door" considering they look like they were made of material that was thinner than the steel of the walls.

There are entrances on the west and north, with a catwalk entrance to the east. With no activity happening outside it might be the enemy is on a low profile.



Meanwhile, inside....

“Hey, George what are we gonna do about this bitch? I mean we been here fer days yo!” a broad shouldered ID-Sol complained. He had face paint of that like a bear, his hands were tattooed like as if they were dripping with blood, and he wore an overcoat with a coat that was probably bear fur. One could only assume his name was bear.

“Shut up Bear, it's up to the boss!” said the feisty red head Yamatain who was cleverly painted like that of a cat, even with fake cat ears. Unlike “Bear” she had gloves drawn to be bloody, she didn't quite wanted to go the lengths of defeating her natural regeneration just to make her hands look a little more red. If anything she rather save money on that Neko body she always wanted, “as long as we get paid, I don't give two shits if he plans to dominate the world!”

Bear smiled back at her, “Cat ur pretty damn smart! I'm gonna go patrol, there may be 30 of us, but I have the best eyes of this gang!” Bear said as he stood up and began to walk slowly while bringing his assault rifle into his hands like if it was a toy.

Cat smiled back as well, Just go and die idiot, I could use the bigger cut.



Greg Vanderson has seen better days, he once was a loyal soldier to the Greens who later found work part of a mercenary force. However due to a sting by the IPG, he and two others are all that remains of the group. The 30 year old man had hair growing on his chin, his old mercenary uniform was in bad condition which he wore a black jacket over. He was also pretty well armed, with handguns on his hips, grenades in his jacket, and a shotgun on his back.

“God damn you finally showed up,” he said to a dark corner, in the center of the room was the girl, Rin Carpenter, still in her blue dress and light brown casual jacket. She seemed a little ruffed up with a noticeable bump on the forehead which was probably the cause of her not noticing the two adults talking business, “I've had the girl for five days and the mayor already sendin' those bounty hunters, when the hell are you going to make your move.”

The figure in the dark responded with a very feminine voice that could also be a guy as it is hard to tell with Yamatains at times, “Once the Mayor contacts you and asks for ransom, we shall make our move and make him our puppet. You just play your part until then.”

The man furrowed his brown brow and seemed reasonably upset, “Just take the bitch to a different place so they can't find her and... wait this is a test isn't it? You said...”

A wave of a finger silenced the mercenary, “I said possibly, one must wait for the right moment to cross the street, one may not simply just cross it. If you survive, we shall consider.”

After the unknown left, Greg Vanderson only had one last thing to say, “Consider my ass, well Betty, we got one more fight ahead of us.”

Sam had arrived early and returned to retrieve her bike to prepare for her mission. She stood near the building to the East of the plane warehouse thing. There was a catwalk for her use that leads onto a the wing of the warehouse to a ladder that reaches the opening to make it inside. Someone seems to pass by the entrance every 5-10 minutes so there is something going on inside.

--

Dimitri strolled up to a side door of the warehouse to the west. He was probably a little lost but with the help of the map given to him he was able to reach the warehouse. The bounty hunter could only guess that the door he was facing is one of the side rooms and offices and thus probably less guarded then going through the main door.

--

"This is bad ya know? We should get backup." a Nepleslian said as he took position behind a stack of conviently placed tires in front of the North door. He wore casual clothing but was holding a sidearm that the local police force normally used.

The other man seemed more like an investigator with a long coat who also branded a similar weapon, "Well my friend, that is why we brought along this guy," the investigator said while thumbing behind him toward the looming ID-Sol, "besides I doubt the New Aio police would arrive here in time, with the Mayor favoring hunters I'd suspect other bounty hunters might get here first."

"Then why the hell you drag me out here?" the plain clothed police man said while gripping his gun, "Seriously you said these guys were bad dudes right?"

The investigator whipped out a cigarette and let out a smoke, "I need ya buddy, I'm not a police officer you know." Before heading up to the gate, he looked behind him and said something with cigarette still in mouth, "It was by chance I ran into ya son, I know you helped me out at the apartment and that's why I'm letting you take the 70% share if we get this done. Just remember the Mayor's kid is in there, we need her if we are to get paid got me?"

"Just remember the Mayor's kid is in there, we need her if we are to get paid got me?" The investigator said to him.

Truth be told Atverm was more concerned about them. Because walking in the front gates of a facility crawling with armed gangsters to rescue a girl they had kidnapped was such a great idea. He nodded in response, still looking at the front gates.

"Don't worry, I kind of knew we needed the girl in order to get the reward. Just let me do something real quick before we go inside."

Reaching inside his coat, he pulled out his Origin Industries Assault Rifle and loaded a Capacitor into the butt of the gun. He then snapped the rifle up into a firing position and looked down the scope. Everything seemed to be in working order and lined up properly. Good, the last thing he needed was constantly missing his target in a firefight because he didn't screw the zoom scope on properly.

"Ok let's go."

Dimitri was somewhat transfixed. "What kind of person keeps a data map between their...?" He asked himself more than the woman. Looking at it with some suspicion, then back at the retreating lady, he shrugged. Not like he had any more leads, right?

"Dasvedanya."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The place was huge. With the map he had gotten from the nice damsel in distress he had saved on his way to the Casino, he was able to find a somewhat inconspicuous entry into the warehouse area. Of course, he hadn't come here without first getting all his weapons. His shotgun was strapped across his back, his handguns were stashed in his suit's vest, and his sub-machinegun was tucked in a holster on a belt he had, right next to his right hip. All of the ammo he needed were strapped to his pistol belt, and two of the magazines for the handguns were tucked in his vest.

Considering the large force that was possibly situated here, Dimitri would have to do this the 'sneaky' way. Doing this any other way was suicide.

Entering the facility from this side of the building slowly, Dimitri made sure to stay as low as he could and extracted his combat knife from it's place in his pants' right pocket. The guns were only there in case he needed them.

For now, it was sneaky killing time. With his proficiency in close quarters combat, he doubted anyone in the facility would stand a chance to survive if they encountered him with a knife.

"Ok, open the door."

The off duty police officer began to push open one of the big doors while the detective brushed past with his gun at the ready. He couldn't see right away due to the nature of the warehouse being stacked to the brim with supplies. Boxes and creates stacked everywhere, some on the ground probably falling from higher up that allowed for some cover. Like that of the nature of a warehouse this makes it a maze, a maze filled to the brim by that of a fully armed gang of wannabe animal lovers bent on protecting their source of DA.

"Dave," the Detective whispered, "Go left, big man... Atverm with me. Keep an eye above, I think there's also some catwalks above us." After a gesture to stay quite, he began to move slowly inside the dimly lite box maze.

---

"Hey, what does a Kohanian look like?" Dimitri heard a gang member asking a friend of his, "I hear they look like animal devils and stuff yo."

"No no they are nothing like that, they are just some dumb animals that managed to walk is all. Hell I doubt they are as badass as us Neps." the other said in reply, with a tapping of his gun could be heard.

The two were standing around with their backs turned, easy prey to any stealth assassin. One could hear footsteps but it would take time for those steps to become a suitable threat.

"I don't know man, I know this one guy, named Carlos, and he like, saw one man, it like crawled out man and like took his pal right next to him man, like ya know? Poof and he was gone man!"

The second seemed to chuckle, "Like any of those primates could even take out the cheapest armor, hell give me a Demon and I'll turn them to ass wipes if you want!"

Fortunately, Ronsly had been a quick enough guide and Sam had promptly let him leave without any further questions once they’d reached the warehouse district. She’d watched him go, and quietly tailed him for a block and a half to ensure he didn’t try to double back and alert Vanderson or whoever it was hiding in the bizarre hodgepodge ex-shuttle of a warehouse of her arrival. Once satisfied, Sam had quickly gone for her bike – found where she’d left it in front of a few respectable looking shops. The bounty hunter had met earlier with the owner of one of the shops, explaining her case (to a point) and asking permission to leave her airbike parked out front. The shop keeper had accepted her request and offered to keep an eye on it for her from his counter at the front of the shop. When Sam returned, she found her bike just the way she’d left it – all of the compartments and cases strapped to it were in place and firmly locked down. She’d thanked the shopkeeper one last time before taking off and heading back to the warehouse district. Finding a spot to “park” proved to be a bit of a hassle, she couldn’t get too close to the shuttle warehouse, as the sound of the airbike could alert those inside to her approach, thus, she was forced to find a spot in a nearby alley between a pair of relatively nearby warehouses.

After landing, Sam had gathered her gear; binoculars, her M-5 PDW and four extra magazines stuffed into the pockets of her cargo pants. She then checked each of her weapons over to ensure they were in working order before turning her attention back to her airbike. The bike would have to be hidden decently or miscreants roving the warehouse district could come upon it and take parts off of it, or worse, take the whole bike. As she piled several garbage bags and other refuse onto her bike to conceal it, she briefly wondered if bringing the bike along was more trouble than it had been worth. She quickly changed her mind, however, noting the many tight situations the bike had gotten her out of in the past. With the bike sufficiently hidden, she slung her PDW’s strap over her right shoulder and set off toward the shuttle warehouse. Once it came into view, Sam crouched behind a nearby dumpster, pulled her binoculars from their pouch upon her belt and began her preliminary surveillance.

After several minutes, Sam had found what appeared to be a metal cat walk leading up onto the warehouse’s “wing” and a ladder leading up from there, to an opening in the “fuselage”. She couldn’t be certain, but it appeared the opening would lead to a second story within the warehouse or, at least some sort of internal cat walk network granting her the high ground once inside. Of course, the opening could just lead to another ladder leading down and inside to the ground floor level of the warehouse. Sam wasn’t keen on the idea of turning her back upon the warehouse’s interior while climbing down a ladder. I suppose I’ll just have to take a look, don’t really see any other easily accessible or sane entrances from here anyway, she thought, scanning the warehouse with her binoculars. After a few more minutes, she identified a patrolling guard, if he could be called a guard at all, and waited a bit longer to get a clearer idea of his patrol route and rotation.

Once she’d figured out the guard’s rotation well enough, Sam waited patiently for the right moment, then popped up from behind the dumpster, cocked her PDW, and made a quick dash for the metal cat walk. Moving quickly, but stepping lightly, Sam made her way up and onto the warehouse’s “wing”. Crouching for a moment, she looked about, weapon held at the ready, finger on the trigger, thumb on the weapon’s fire selector switch. Once certain no one had spotted her, she quietly made her way across the wing to the ladder propped up against the “fuselage”. Slinging her weapon over her shoulder, she began to climb up to the opening, taking quick glances to her sides and down to the ground at either side of the wing to ensure she had not been spotted. She soon reached the opening and pulled herself inside, finding a level floor – either an internal cat walk network or a second story – stretching out before her. She paused for a moment once inside, crouched next the opening, but to one side of it so she could not be spotted from the outside. Sam gave her PDW a final once over, switched the safety off and the selector to 3-round burst fire, then brought the weapon up into a ready position, peering down the iron sights, and cautiously moved her way forward, deeper into the warehouse.

Hmmm...

As inviting as it seemed, and as convenient, it was actually a bit tricky to make this particular setup 100% foolproof. The problem wasn't so much killing them as it was killing them silently. He only had one knife, and he'd have to use his other hand to dampen the scream or the gurgling. The problem here was that they were both right next to each other. If one suddenly backed away and a gurgling straining sound were heard, the other would look, and he'd alarm the rest of his crew or try attacking, at which time he'd have his hands full, probably.

So right now he had two choices.

Either wait for one of the guys to leave, which would probably be worse for him considering waiting more could end up getting someone to look his way, or to kill them both with neck-based attacks, though this wouldn't grant him the 100% foolproof assault he wanted.

...

Ah, screw it.

Let's get them out of the way.

Dimitri switched his knife to his left hand, the sharp blade facing his body. He slid behind the goon to the left and slit his throat with the knife then instantly sent his right hand to grab the goon to his right in the trachea. He had shot his right arm out so fast that, if he didn't manage to grip the neck with his hand, then it'd at the very least send the man back-pedaling from the impact of the strike to his neck, choking him momentarily and, quite possibly, making him close his eyes.

The next step to that, were it to happen, would be to follow it up with a stab to the man's collarbone area and cover the man's mouth with his free hand.

If he did manage to grab the man's neck, then the only obvious followup would ensue: his cybernetic hand's muscles would squeeze around the trachea like a vice, and choke the man to his death, with his knife hand going in to muffle the choking sounds.

It was possible that someone would hear the gurgling of the neck-wound guy, but that was a chance he'd be willing to take for now.

When the three of them entered the warehouse, Atverm was immediately relieved not to be met with an army of dudes with guns pointed at them. Instead it was just a maze of boxes. Some of them had fallen down and could be used as cover when they eventually ran into trouble. And they would.

"Go left, big man... Atverm with me. Keep an eye above, I think there's also some catwalks above us."

Atverm nodded his head and followed after the detective, rifle at the ready while 'Dave' went off in the other direction. He also kept an eye on the catwalks, noting that there were only a few metal cords holding them up.

“Well well,” spoke the detective in a low voice as he peeked around the corner. He then stepped away and turned around as to sneak back only to see above the ID-Sol a Bloodpaw member looking right at him. The investigator quickly raised his firearm and fired a few rounds and managed to nail the guy before a lot of yelling, cursing, and gunfire was brought in their direction. “Shit,” he muttered as he stood his back against the wall, “Well, we got this far I guess,” he said while taking out another smoke to light it up. After tucking the smokes in his coat, he shifted out of cover to fire a couple of rounds before moving back to reload.

Atverm however felt a presence to his right almost immediately as the firefight began, and heard a yell followed by a surprise attack by a man who apparently wanted to be a bird when he grew up, if the fake bird nose, his white mohawk, and his jacket fitted with feathers faking wings could be any indication. For a gang member who's clothing could be considered impressive, but his idea attacking an ID-Sol with a wrench was probably not a very fashionable idea.

Everything went according to plan for Dimitri, leaving two silent bodies on the ground. After some good neck choking, he could hear gunfire in the next room. He wouldn't be able to enjoy the faint echos of bullets for long however since a distracted member of the Bloodpaws walked in, “What the hell?” a lion dressed gang member asked looking behind him before turning to see Dimitri, “WHAT the HELL?” he shouted as he fumbled for his gun, and managed to fire a single round only to hear a click of the safety, followed by him trying to get his gun working and moving back around the corner for some cover.

Sam successfully made it inside, and can see the catwalk system was like that of a chessboard with several panels for cranes that is used to move boxes and other goods to the ground for transport or on top for storage. Each square was about 4-6 meters in length with a handful of gang members patrolling the catwalks.

When gunfire began on the 1st floor, the members on top began shouting and moving about. A few managed to fire at something but really doesn't seem like they were being an effective unit. Sam did notice however that a couple of Bloodpaws were coming her way but had not noticed her yet until it was too late.

Before bringing up his sidearm, one of the two seemed surprised, “They got up here too?”

Dimitri's eyes flew wide open. Everything that happened after he successfully got rid of the two goons was unexpected... the faint gunshots more-so than the guy walking in on him. "Shit...!" He cursed himself as he saw the guy take out his gun and aim it at him, only to find it wasn't working.

Bad day to get a jam.

Dimitri lunged himself towards the guy before he could get behind cover. The moment he heard the gun click, Dimitri was extending his legs muscles as far as he could to jump on the man and stab him straight in the neck. He had to do this fast and silently. With some commotion going on outside, he'd be free to sneak around and use the distraction to his favor.

All he had to do was get rid of this guy before any loud sounds came from his direction.

Well who didn't see that one coming? Atverm thought to himself as he ducked behind cover, only to be assaulted by a man who thought he was a bird. The ID-Sol had a brief urge to burst out laughing at how hilarious he looked but the gunfire and swearing forced him to take this seriously. The fact that he actually was an ordinary man armed with nothing more than a wrench made it even more difficult for Atverm to take him seriously.

Seeing as the man was almost within striking range, Atverm assumed a wide stance to both dodge his attack and punch him in the face. After that he would turn up the power on his rifle and shoot the metal cords holding up the catwalk.

Hopefully that would shut the man up before he got a headache from listening to him scream his head off.