Umbrella Surveillance System
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Buck Rogers As the first week of the Outbreak drove toward its close, the mood of the city was one of somber terror. The panicked rush of the first few nights has settled, with many successfully evacuating or making their way to one of the few tightly-policed safe zones. But in the no man's land between those shelters, the dead walked, and stranger things, besides-- so stray survivors could often be found, too afraid to make their way to relative security, or otherwise unable. It's a meeting like that that brought the group to the front of the enormous Cinemagique, an IMAX competitor built at the top of a small hill in uptown Raccoon. A large building accompanied by a larger parking lot, separated by tree-lined strips of grassy divides from the nearby gas station and flower boutique, it is dominated by the enormous, rarely-blinking CINEMAGIQUE sign attached to the top above its grand double doors. The streets wind down the hill away from it, and the dead traverse in small numbers-- sometimes, none at all are seen, which makes this a reasonably good location. Height advantage, tight and easily defended corridors, doors that can be easily fortified, and precious few windows.. at least, that's what Buck said, when he was selling people on the location.

For his part, Buck is on the back hood of a car that smashed into a concrete barrier blocking off a portion of the side street heading downhill, with a half-smoked cigarette burning out on the concrete near his feet. Lillian's been tucked safe nearby and told to stay out of sight, given Buck's handgun for security, and Isabel.. that girl likes to scrounge and scavenge.
Prestige William Caldwell Cinemas, huh? At least they'd get free movies to watch, if there was even power here. William was backing Buck up from behind, keeping a close eye on anything and everthing. He takes a deep breath and slowly releases it. Calming his nerves if only slightly "This is gonna be a clusterfuck and you know it Buck." he mutters not too loudly. He checks his handgun magazine and then slowly puts it back in. Waiting for Bucks orders on what to do. He wasn't the type of guy to be a leader, but he did know how to take a order very damn well.
Nick Fox "Can't be any worse than what happened at the RPD HQ." Nick says, in response to Will, "I mean that was insane, but everybody made it out..As far as I know." He does turn to Buck, "So we got a gameplan here bossman?" He inquires, as he ejects the magazine from his Samurai Edge to check the ammo count.
Buck Rogers Buck pushes off the broken shell of the car and stomps a heavy black boot on the smoking cigarette, extinguishing it beneath his heel. "Breathe, Will," the big man suggests, pivoting and snatching up his helmet from where it rested on the car's roof. He lifts a hand and puts to the western flank of the solid, bunker-like theater. There's an alley running along it, pressed between a low concrete wall and the theater itself, running toward the back-end of the establishment. There's a door, not glass, on ground level, and another door a story directly above it, supported by a small balcony. He nods at Nick. "The front doors, pieces of shit-- glass, you know? Easy to break, real wide. So I say we clear this place out, swing by that Home Depot a few blocks away, get sandbags and metal sheeting. We can barricade the front, make a rope ladder for that door up there, get in and out that way. Drag the dumpster from the back up through to make it easier. We climb a lot better than these things do."

He secures his helmet, voice muffled by the black face plate, eyes concealed by the night vision goggles. "Lot of room so we don't feel cooped up, good vantage point to move out on scavenge runs. And, fuck, it's a movie theater.. what kind of asshole goes to see the movies when the world ends?" He grins, unseen. "Shouldn't be too many freakshows inside. The plan's simple: move in, kill 'em all. Any problems?"
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell shakes his head lightly before taking another breath "Gotcha.." he mutters. Looking over his Samurai Edge and then his broken one. Worst comes to worst he can just start gunbutting the shit out of these undead monstrosities. "Just hope there are none of them that can climb, yeah?" he asks mostly to himself. "But if we start getting swarmed and can't climb in time we're probably fucked. That's a worst case scenario though." he gets into a combat ready stance and gets ready for ACTION. "No problems here. Ready to move out on your call, Buck."
Nick Fox "Sounds like a good plan to me. And I'm sure you can climb fine, you passed S.T.A.R.S. quals, didn't you?" Nick says, as ne gives Will a thumbs up, "Ready to roll though, we can lets hit this."
Buck Rogers "Alright. Will, Nick, I want you two moving together," Buck says, reaching one mammoth hand down and scooping up the black, bloodied chainsaw he's so fond of. "Move in through the front entrance. I'm gonna do a quick check of the back, make sure we don't get stuck in there.. I'll join up with you through the fire exits." With a nod, the heavily armed and armored brute stalks off down the long, narrow alleyway, eventually fading into the shadows that hang long and dark from the edifice. Around the other two, the parking lot and street are damnably quiet, which has the ever so fortunate effect of amplifying ambient noise and turning every scurrying rat or rustling candy wrapper into a lurking threat.

The triple glass doors are unbroken. Through them, the dirtied glass partially obscures the theater insides-- they can see a large, open chamber, with a small booth near the door to purchase tickets, and behind that, glimpses of more. The floors are shiny and reflective. From their outside position, they can't see any undead within.
Prestige William Caldwell Nodding to Buck, Caldwell adjusts his body armored suit of STARS armor. "Gotcha. Moving out when you're ready, Nick. I suppose you can lead this operation if you want." he holds his pistol with both hands but keeping his knife at the ready in case he needs it. He slowly makes his way to the triple glass doors and gets into position, ready to breach on Nicks word. The monster of a man was ready to clear the place, he just needed the go ahead.
Nick Fox "Alright." Nick replies, as he watches Buck head off, before turning back to Will, "Just stay close to my six. When I break that window it's gonna probably draw some attention." He heads uip to the front windows, where the doors are, opting isntead of going for the door to go for one of the windows next to the door, the full length plate glass.

He picks up a peice of debris from street nearby, hauls back, and throws it with all the force he can manage. Never thought he'd be doing this kinda thing when he joined the RPD.
Buck Rogers The rock breaks the left-most window pane with a loud, unmistakable crash. Sheets of the shattered glass collapse on the floor like hail, leaving but a few jagged spikes of it pointing up. A solid push would clear the rest of the glass out, though you wouldn't want to do it barefoot. As of yet, nothing reacts to the sound. But there was nothing quiet about it.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell proceeds to climb in through the window once the glass is cleared. Drawing his handgun and looking around the area, his tactical flashlight on his pistol slowly scanning the area for infected. He takes a slow breath and slowly begins to manuever his way through the theater with Nick should he choose to follow.
Buck Rogers The pair climb inside. The glass doors remain closed next to them, but there's nothing of interest about them; rather, their attention is drawn to the ticket booth that occupies the area immediately in front. The counter is small, marble, and the floor beneath it reflects the ceiling-- a ceiling filled with partially-delated balloons, and stars tied to rafters by string, twirling and twisting in the subtle air currents. One such balloon mentions a happy birthday. Along the left wall is a section that lists play times and titles, and to the right, behind the ticket booth, is a closed door to a staff lounge. The lighting isn't great-- while there's some power, not every light works, and the lack of windows inside means precious little light. It's hard to see deeper in, where the theater broadens into the concession booths.
Buck Rogers The beams of William's flashlight illuminate chunks of the concessions zone. The two of them, eyes focused and alert, can see each individual mote of dust that floats through the air, glittering in the light-- and they can see in the dark a humanoid creature sprinting at them!
Buck Rogers The shock of being caught off guard must have gotten to the two, or the difficulties of firing in the dark with only one flashlight to cover them-- but either way, both bullets whizz past the thing and vanish into the shadows, before it -- a man, they can see in the moments before impact, with scraggly brown hair and a patchy goatee, wearing shorts and a t-shirt -- bodily hurls itself at Nick!
Buck Rogers Current situation: the monstrous Infected is clawing at Nick, singlemindedly trying to knock him to the ground and pummel him.
Nick Fox Nick spent a shot, missed cleanly, and then took a blow to chest, knocking him down. He quickly checks to make sure if he's bleeding or if the creature managed to claw him up. His armor seems to have taken most of it, thankfully. From the ground he raises his weapon and fires again, attempting a double tap, but it's a bad angle and the second shot goes wide, "Take it down!" He yells at William, trying to have his partner finish it.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell walks up to the infected next to Nick and places his handgun between the zombies eyes, firing off two shots, splattering brains and blood over the two of them and slowly wiping off gore from his face. "Let's keep moving. We gotta get this place cleared out." he looks around with with his flashlight.
Nick Fox "Jesus fuck." Nick mutters as he gets up off of the ground, "Hit it in the damn torso, at least it stunned it long enough for you to blow it's brains out." He brushes himself off, feeling himself brusing under the vest already, "Just make sure we stick together and we should be fine."
Buck Rogers The Infected's brains splatter against the ticket booth, an oozing smear of rabid matter dripping off the cash register. The body slumps down and collapses. A quick inspection reveals little special-- some money in a pants pocket, and the fact he's missing most of his fingernails. The two move on into the concession area, and this one, fortunately, is empty-- though a handful of corpses, actual ones, dot the ground. Their faces are clawed and their faces twisted into rictuses of pain. Likely victims of the beast they both just put down. There's a popcorn machine that is still reasonably full of old, stale, unbuttered popcorn, and maybe some snacks if they go looking behind the counters.. up ahead, branching off from a long hallway, are the two screening rooms the cinema has, and there's still the staff lounge behind them behind the closed door.
Nick Fox Nick stops at the counter near the popcorn, "Man this stuff's been here for like a week. Maybe once we clear this place out we can clean this out, get some fresh popcorn going." He says, as he glances back at Will and grins.

He moves deeper into the movie theater, weapon in front of him, "Staff room?" He asks, as he looks over his shoulder. IF tehere would be anyone hunkered down in here, it'd be in there.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell nods to Nick "We have a fair amount of food in here, it's stale and old but it should suffice our needs. Plus theres probably a generator in here for powering our lights and such." he raises his handgun in another combat ready stance and slowly makes his way to the staff room, opening the handle to the door and quickly looking around with his flashlight.
Buck Rogers Sitting at a table in the staff lounge is a young woman. Her head is laying on it, an opened box of half-eaten pizza and a paper plate with a piece of cake next to it. There's a computer in the corner, a shrub, and a corkboard listing employee schedules and call-outs.
Nick Fox "Looks like...Nobody's here.." Nick looks around spotting the girl face down on the table though...He moves up a bit closer to her and nudges her with a foot, while keeping his gun pointed at her. If she's not alive, or if she's a zombie, he's gonna put her down quick.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell walks over to the young woman and yanks her head up, aiming a gun into her forehead and getting ready to splatter her brains if she at all is alive and infected.
Buck Rogers The young lady groans when Caldwell yanks her head up by the roots of her hair. Her eyes are a pale, milky white, and her lips are cracked. She's bleeding from her gums.

Nick puts a bullet into her fast as William backs off, the groan becoming a snarl before she paints the walls red. Besides her, there's no one else-- just a small, comfortable lounge and office combo, with signs of happier times. A key is hanging around the doorknob.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell drops the woman onto the floor and quietly walks out of the room. Moving towards anywhere else where potential threats could be. He radios in to Buck "Hey Buck. How goes your end? Clearing things up inside. Two down, bunch of actual corpses. Suggest we clear these out when we can."
Nick Fox The Samurai Edge smokes as the sound of the casing hitting the tile shatters the silence after the gunshot. Nick was really hoping she was just asleep. He moves over to grab the key from the wall, never know when it might be useful. He then quickly follows after Caldwell.
Buck Rogers Buck's voice crackles to life on the radio. "Eh," he says, and it's difficult to hear him over the roar of his chainsaw, suppressing even his characteristically loud, growly voice with mechanical efficiency. "One sec.." The radio cuts out. About fifteen seconds later, he returns, and there's no buzz this time. "The back lot's clear," he rumbles, "but the fire escapes are locked from the inside. I tried both. I'm cleaning out the dumpster so it's easier to move." A pause for breath. "Anyway, you two need me?"

Once back in the lobby, the pair move through the concessions area, past the corpses. Any one of them could be infected-- it's uncomfortable to realize there's simply no way to tell if they're dead or biding their time. At the least, none of them are moving. The two movie rooms are very, very dark-- so dark that without the flashlight, it's literally impenetrable. Anything left in here will be in there.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell proceeds to continue talking into his radio "Try to work on getting some fortifactions going, yeah? We're gonna finish clearing up here. Could even use some of these corpses as makeshift barricades to slow down the infected or looters." he says. He enters the movie room and scans the area around, raising his weapon in every direction, keeping an eye on things for Nick.
Buck Rogers The narrow beam of the flashlight illuminates rows and rows of chairs. The floor beneath their boots crunches and sticks as they move down the slanted walkway toward the screen, keeping a close eye out for any threats. The light falls to catch the zombie laying on the ground between two rows, which reaches out to grab Will's ankle as he passes-- but sheer martial reflex has him bouncing back from the touch, and the thing slowly begins to stand. Its groan is met by the wet, squelching sounds of other undead shambling around.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell raises his gun dead center to the zombie in front of him's forehead and blows his brains out, then aiming to the shambler nearby and blowing that ones brains out as well. "Take care of the last one for me. You've already got a good shot in I see." he wipes gore off his face and holsters his pistol, pulling out his knife and getting in a combat stance, waiting to see if Nick can finish off the undead before it gets to him.
Buck Rogers Nick fires into the dark at the slow-moving and blurry silhouettes advancing on him. One shot misses; the other destroys a dead heart, and makes the zombie stumble and slow. It doesn't feel pain, not truly, but trauma can slow them down-- and this one's slowed down significantly, even as its compadre has its head blasted apart, and the nearest one is dispatched. There's just one last kill and this room's empty. Fortunately, it seems like there wasn't a ton of people in here, after all.
Nick Fox "I got this." Nick replies, as he squares his shoulder and resets his stance, before he tilts his head to pop his neck and then squeezing the trigger on another shot. The shot rings out, briefly lighting up the room before it strikes the zombie square in the dome and sends its brain all over the wall, "And that makes five. I think we're done." He turns back to Will, "Call it in to Buck. I'll start getting the corpses cleared out."
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell slowly put his knife back in it's sheath. Pressing the button on his radio and speaking into it "Looks clear to me, Buck. Start bringing in fortifications I guess. Nicks gonna start carting out bodies. I'll keep overwatch on the area." he begins to walk over to the second story balcony and proceeds to keep his pistol aimed out over the city, getting ready to pop shots off at any undead that get too close to their new home.
Buck Rogers "Gotcha," comes Buck's prompt reply, sounding a bit winded. "Christ, it smells like something's rotting in there." There's a metallic clang and a slide of metal on metal, and then-- "Oh for fuck's sake there is. Yeah, I'll catch up soon. Gonna let the girls know."