|Cerberus||Friday, February 11 2006
with the world still reeling over the incident in the catacombs, Paris Police and the city government has begun its takeover once more of the quarantine zone; though, for now FBC agents can continue patrols on the interior.
It's quiet inside the zone. Much of the biological accident has been cleaned up and sweeps have come down to one man to three-man unit squads doing patrols every two to three hours to keep looters and unwanted guests from entering. Hardly a zombie or licker has been seen in weeks.
|Trixie||"They could've at least let us use the jeeps for this crap. What good's being a sergeant if you're just stuck walking the same patrols you were doing before?" Trixie murmurs, shaking her head, as she walks along in one of several regular patrol pattern. "Esa, you SO owe me for this... I could've been hunting for a real job or a real outfit right now!"
She frowns at her own grumblings. "Shut up, Trixie. Just 'cause /you/ can't hear /it/ doesn't mean /it/ can't hear /you/."
|Cerberus||It was eerily silent. Like a horror film eeriness where there just wasn't a sound. No movements, rustling of the wind, nothing.
Then it began to rain. At first it was a trickle, but quickly it sped up to a steady down pour of rain; not heavy but not light either.
Out of the corner of her eyes, something perhaps moved; though it could possibly be the darkness and shadows playing tricks.
|Trixie||"Awwww, /frak/ my life! Now the damn /sky/ is dumping on me, too!" Trixie throws up her free hand, resisting an urge to hit something. Walls have no 'give' to them.
And then suddenly everything else is forgotten as something moves out of the corner of her eyes. She takes a step back away from that direction, then another, tugging down her NVD's and switching them on. Maybe it's a trick of darkness and shadow... but darkness is your enemy, and the shadows have eyes... and nasty, big pointy teeth, too!
She lifts the muzzle of her XM8 carbine and aims at the point of movement, her patience as worn as her nerves are sharp.
|Cerberus||Whatever it was, nothing is seen now. There is an alley way that leads off to the left side of her where she thought she saw something; but now it was just her and the cold, wet rain.|
|Trixie||Trixie stares down the alleyway for a long few moments. Then she turns and looks behind her. Then she starts on her way again. But she keeps watching that left side, and keeps the stock of the XM8 to her shoulder. Just in case.
"I frakking /hate/ my job..." she murmurs.
|Cerberus||As she slips on past the alleyway and further down, the man steps out of the shadows and moves up behind her. For Trixie it was like hairs standing up on end as she heard something behind her; a quick second later, there is a sound, a rustling of a jacket and concrete being hit, then a quiet pop and bullet biting into the concrete frame of the building next to her.|
|Trixie||Trixie flinches away from the whining ricochet and the masonry chips it throws up, lunging into the alcove of a door to the building next to her. She steals a peek around the edge of the doorway, looking for the shooter, her grievances against Esa, the F.B.C., and the sky momentarily forgotten.|
|Cerberus||She sees the man, dressed in black fatigues with his own pair of NVD's on his head. He sports a berretta handgun of which he switches for a P90 and backs toward a car; firing a series of short bursts at the door frame as he retreats behind the car on the far side.|
|Trixie||Trixie blinks as the goon sweeps up a P90. She instinctively ducks back as a burst flies her way, stealing a peek out just in time to see him duck behind a parked car.
She rolls her eyes, then triggers her underbarrel grenade launcher, murmuring, "Dumbass..." and cringing back into her doorway, closing her eyes and covering her ears...
|Cerberus||"Oh fuck." Comes the muffled voice of the attacker as he stands up in time to see a grenade launched at him. He back peddles from the car, turning to run. The explosion rips the car up and to the right; slamming into the man as he and the car proceed through the building wall. A short moment later, the building collapses on top of him.|
|Trixie||"Whoa..." Trixie murmurs, peeking out at the destruction she's wrought on this part of the zone. "Hope it was insured," she says at last, toggling her radio.
"Rattler One to Big Chair... shooter in the pen. Shooter is down. Repeat, shooter in the pen. Shooter is down." She looks at the wreckage of the building. "/Very/ down."
|Cerberus||It would take some time for the wreckage to be cleared and the man identified via dental records. Between the weight of the car and the collapsing of the building, the man was crushed. Records would show him to be a member of the Guns For Hire (GFH) mercenary team whom are employed by various people throughout the world.
It's possible that Umbrella reached out to them and hired them, though no evidence could support that. A Red flag is thrown at the indication of GFH. F.B.C. and US intelligence has seen a spike of activity by them in Paris. Possible connection to a known terrorist in the Middle East who may be in Paris; though Trixie's clearance level doesn't get her the actual name.