spacehopper | Taking Down The Warren

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Taking Down The Warren

They were all in positions, as far as he could tell and he gazed at his manipulator that had been enhanced with the tracking devices. Calling up the display, which hovered like a hologram over his wrist with an areal view of the warehouse and the surrounding areas, Jack counted dots. White dots for the werewolves, forty-three of them now. The ones from around the city had returned this afternoon to sleep away the daylight hours. Light green for the human operatives. Deep yellow-gold for the Jacks because of what they were infused with. Peter, Kate and Liz were a soft blue, mutated humans. Red and Alisa didn't show up at all because of what they happened to be.

"Role call everyone. Team Alpha at the rear entrance. Jack, Gadget, Gwen, all here. Team Beta?" They were at the front entrance, the first to go in. He listened for New York Jack, his wife, and Kate to call out. Good. "Team Gamma?" They were also at the front. The other Jack from New York, Rose Tyler, Red and Liz Sherman. Again, he waited for the all clear. They were damage control, defense. "Team Delta?" His other Jack, Peter Petrelli and Renee, up on the roof. Their job was strictly support, to clean out the top of the warehouse, to back up the Rift team or extract damaged agents.

When the all clear was sounded, he turned back to those in the SUV, running intelligence from the Hubs. Both Iantos, Jackie and Owen for triage. Just in case.

"All right folks. Beta and Gamma, it's your show."

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Jack tilted his head a little and tilted his head a bit, pursing his lips and nodded. "Okay, here we go," he growled. "Move her the second I start shooting." And a second later he started shooting the wolf right in the head, hoping against hope that if he shot it enough, it'd release her so that NY Jack could get his wife and get out. "Someone send the others in, we could use the help in here!" he shouted. Still shooting.

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Jack didn't care, he kept shooting as they attacked him. He screamed when they started for his legs. But kept shooting as they attacked. He was going to keep doing it until they killed him or they died. Or both.

And he kept shooting, even though parts of his legs were going in other directions. "Fuck," he growled, turning and noticing everyone coming in, hearing the gunfire. He threw his automatic when he was out and pulled out the Webley, starting to use it. "If I'm going down, you're fucking going with me," he muttered at the wolves. He was going down as another wolf attacked him. Jack was down as he aimed the gun at it's head and shot just before he lost consciousness.

Jack looked down as the wolves cleared Alisa's body, he knows this was to expected still he didn't like it. The battery of the gun is gone, rushes over towards Alisa's body his own Glock drawn, the Webley is kept as a final straw.

He turns around to find a wolf coming towards him, he fires the glock at it. He wants to get Alisa and that rifle of hers. It's almost too late. "Comms are dead..." Jack isn't hearing anything from the others now. "The Rift's interfering with them."

The wolf knocks Jack over on his back, the glock clattering to the ground but this Jack likes knives. He's scary with the things, as he pulls one of his throwing knives from the inside of his jacket. The wolf is chewing down on his one arm, Christ it hurt. He goes to try to drive the knife into the throat of the beast that has him pinned.

Alisa's free of being eaten, she's got her arms pretty much hanging by fine threads. Her body is slowly mending itself, she's dead. There's other pieces of missing flesh from her body. At least for once, these guys likely knew everyone came simply by the vibrations, smell and everything else the vans made.

This had turned into one big cluster fuck. He wouldn'tve blamed some of them if they'd ran. His body was slowly mending itself back together as the wounds were greater this time. Parts of his legs had to grow back and whatever else had gone missing since he died. People and werecreatures were dying all around him and he was still mending.

Eight minutes later, he gasped back to life, reaching for his gun and looking down at his leg. He groaned and looked over at Alisa and a wolf had his boss down. He cocked the Webley and stood up, walking over and putting the muzzle right to the back of the things head and fired. "Take that, you piece of shit," he growled, stepping back and turned around to look for anymore.

Jack's the quicker of the two to come back, his injuries were not as bad but maybe it had to due to dying more often and with an untold death count. He has the old grenade launcher with him, that old M79, rounds wrapped around his shoulder on an ammo belt.

He has one already in there, but first beating the wolf off him is on his mind. At least Sparky and Red are helping with the other thing.

Once, the wolf is clear he pulls his chewed up leg and he fires..there's a delay...and then BOOOM!

Alisa's body has mended itself, there she is alone as she takes a small breath of air. She lays there for a bit, play dead for now then get the rifle to start helping the other Jack's out. Her hand newly healed, digs for the Desert Eagle in the holster. She lies in wait for now, there's the other Jack. She pushes herself up slowly, and she pulls off a few rounds at the wolf on him.

Kate's been pinned down. She's in a secure spot and although she's had excellent cover, it's been all she can do to keep the werewolves off of her, never mind helping her teammates. "Are they ever going to stop?"

This Jack had died three times in three days, so his body was a little slower in catching up. He tilted his head and started off in the direction where he might be needed. He stepped over dead bodies of werewolves, picking up his automatic. He was loading it and narrowly missed attack from another one. "Jesus Christ, close that rift," he muttered to himself, using the automatic to crack the wolf's jaw. He took another bite on the shoulder for his trouble, reaching up with the Webley and sticking it under the wolfs jaw and pulling the trigger. He didn't stumble, but the pain in his shoulder was immense. He kept moving, intend on finding Gadget. No matter how many times he died to get there.

Taking Down The Warren

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