Siberian Spores part 4: Containment

May 17, 2014: Those infected by the spores seem to be drawn toward one central location. This should make cleanup a bit easier for everyone. (Language warning.)

New York City Harbor

This abandoned warehouse had been turned into a safehouse by Domino some time ago. Now it's ground zero for an extermination.



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Mood Music:

Not a lot of time has passed since the Triskelion incident. Most of that time had been spent getting situated, re-armed and armored, patched up a bit with some telekinetic help, cleaning out the warehouse for what promised to be a one-way trip. Domino's still clinging to life, in better shape than she had been not even twenty four hours ago. With most of her belongings cleared out of the former safehouse she's taken to the rafters, carrying whatever manner of gear will fit about her person.

It's true what Cable had said. There's some manner of sentience to this infection. She may not be dead and turned but she had still been the first. Every other infection seems to recognize this. With her sitting still for a while there's been something of an exodus, those which had turned and are not locked down under quarantine all starting to converge upon her location.

Hours later and the warehouse is getting packed full of shambling, rank-smelling bodies, most with a brown or greenish tint to their skin. They know she's there but, for the moment, they can't get to her. Still, more continue to find their way into the building.

"So, this is a really stupid idea," the albino woman sighs to herself. There's only so much time left on the clock for her to try and clean up this mess before she truly can't be saved. A military gas mask gets fitted into place, standing with an automatic rifle in hand as she looks for a place to land amidst the shuffling bodies.


Zombies. Somewhere along the line, Agent Barton thought it was a -good- idea for him (and his erstwhile partner) to come along to the denouement of the zombie 'thing' because, well, he'd been personally affected, in more ways than one. Infected. (He's not stupid enough to believe that once infected that he's immune, however!) He's got his motorcycle chock full of SHIELDy goodness, and slowing to a stop around a block from the warehouse, he pulls the key and begins to offload his equipment.. which happens to include a gasmask as well as the tools of his trade. Hawk looks a little worse for wear; cuts, scrapes, bruises.. and maybe he's favouring a leg? But nothing can be seen behind the dark glasses as he finishes his gathering and is on the move.

"Time to get a view."

A block away gives him the chance to get to high ground.. and taking advantage of that, Clint begins to move from roof-top to rooftop seemingly effortlessly. It's easy when it's warehouse, large container, warehouse..

Once in place, settled in, the SHIELD archer has a vantage right near the door where the human-shaped shambling mounds are entering the warehouse.


Really, a zombie hoard shambling through the city towards a single location is kind of a dead give away (ba-dum-ching) in terms of the whole 'something strange in the neighborhood' thing. And in this case, who you're gonna call ain't the ghost busters. It turns out, it's SHIELD.

Moving fairly swiftly, thanks to a SHIELD-issue jet cycle, the Black Widow is weaving her way through the streets, around traffic, towards the infected zone, even while other SHIELD agents set up quarantine perimeters wherever they can.

Radioing ahead to the check point between her and the warehouse, she zips past that perimeter without ever slowing down, swerving to avoid the infected she encounters along way, simply in an effort to reach the heart of the area. Indeed, she's probably the safest one in the midst of them all, given she simply can't get sick. Doesn't mean she doesn't have to go through all the necessary decontamination processes afterward, but at least she won't be hoarking up fungus anytime soon, herself.

Yeah. There's a comforting thought, Romanova. You get to be the last human standing in the zombie apocalypse. The Old Man oughta love that.

Still, the helmet for the bike and her black suit — done up to the neck, this time — are resistant to the spores. So, maybe this won't turn out to be the cluster she's dreading.

She pulls into the loading docks at an adjacent wearhouse, away from the heart of the shambling hoard, and loads up on her own equipment. Slinging a jump pack on her back, she flicks her eyes at an internal com trigger on the HUD of her helmet.

"In position," she tells her fellow agents. "Moving in to investigate."


"Roger that," Cap says into the comsystem on his wrist as he looks to move into position. He takes cautious steps forward, unsure of what precisely he's getting himself into.

He was late to the party on this whole thing, and with everything going on and with what is currently on his plate, things seemed to brush past him on this one without his even knowing. His lack of preparation is making him a bit uneasy, a bit overly cautious.


A good half-mile away, a Quinjet hovers in that supposedly dead zone between commercial airspace and too close to the ground. Communication headset in place, May listens as Romanoff calls in and Rogers acknowledges. She's here only as the getaway driver or as backup support if they need one. She's under no illusions that this is going to be a simple mission, but she'd really rather NOT have to play Cavalry. Again.


Evelyn speeds towards the docks, riding on a Kawasaki Ninja. The roar of the engine at full bore and whiplash winds would make it difficult to hear or speak, but one would hardly want to interrupt a rider whipping along at a speed likely exceeding one hundred miles per hour /in city traffic/. Thankfully, the streets aren't excessively crowded, but some of the maneuvers on the bike could not be considered legal in any sense of the word.
It doesn't take long for Evelyn to meet up with Barton again on the street, riding along with him. It had been a crazy night. Initially she was with Hawkeye, then she left to go colleect something of hers. That something being the same motorcycle from the bar, still chained up to the "No Parking" sign. Unfortunately, she was just nearly there before receiving the call from her chaperone, the emergency at the docks taking immediate priority. Not willing to leave the bike, she continued to grab it and abscond back to Barton as quickly as possible. It seems every hero needs a motorcycle.
Riding along with Hawkeye, she throttles down and parks next to him, this time foregoing the chain for the fact that zombies aren't likely to try and ride her bike. Her own attire is not unlike Natasha's. A SHIELD jumpsuit and white helmet with black visor. She doesn't remove the helmet after dismounting the bike. At her side is a regulation Interceptor pistol, it probably won't come in handy for this situation.
A couple of shamblers walk aside of her, and don't seem to bother her at all, instead heading for the warehouse. Barton walks off, and she stands there considering the situation. After a moment, she presses two fingers to the side of her helmet, "Evelyn reporting in. I'm going in." And after that, she just starts walking to the warehouse with the shamblers. After a few moments, she vanishes inside the warehouse in the crowd of zombies who appear to be ignoring her. Once inside, she begins looking around, all of her moves fairly delicate as to not jostle other zombies terribly. Because she doesn't engage her comm for this comment, it's almost made to herself, "There are a lot of them in here."
Warehouse Inventory: Several hundred zombies, one Domino, one Evelyn in motorcycle helmet and jumpsuit.


(C'mon, Dom. Be honest. On some level you're looking forward to this.)

A remote within the merc's hand gets thumbed, causing every one of the warehouse doors to start sliding closed. No locks, nothing fancy. Merely a means of containing the crowd before she unclips a concussion grenade from her harness and pulls the pin, letting it casually roll off the tips of her fingers into the crowd below. It's a small charge, but it's enough to give her a landing zone.


Bodies fly into other bodies, knocking over many of the shamblers like game pieces around the charge's epicenter. Those nearest to the blast take the shockwaves hard, skin rupturing in a burst of thick greenish yellow fog as the spores growing inside of the host bodies are released out into the world.

Well, into the warehouse. Not out to the world. Not yet.

If the grenade doesn't wake up the neighborhood then the automatic fire which follows should do the trick. The compact rifle's been loaded with the sort of munitions that would make all of the Geneva Convention scream, the sort of 'exploding' hollowpoints typically reserved for varmint hunting and pest control. When a bullet strikes an infected there's a loud puff of spores being released, the merc quite deliberately tearing the mob to pieces. In no time there's a thick haze beginning to settle within the warehouse as so much material clogs the air.

It's hardly sanitary.

It also seems to upset the undead guys, go figure! Acting like a hive mind there's a wet, raspy hissing sound that comes out of the mass as one, arms starting to rise forward in proper zombie fashion as they start to converge on the lone attacker. Evelyn's probably got quite the view from amongst the masses. Add a stage and some lights and it could almost be a rock concert


Once Hawkeye has his spot picked out, the com is clicked. "In place," is all that's said. Short, sweet and to the point. At least as far as location goes.

Blue eyes hidden by dark glasses watches Evelyn's progress, his 'partner' for this operation, though he spares a glance for 'Widow- the Agent with whom he's spent most of his SHIELD career, for good or ill. "Roger that, 'Widow. Gotcha covered. Both of you."

Barton can feel for Rogers, he can. He doesn't know half, probably, of what the girls know, and he's -read- all the reports he could get his hands on. Hell.. he even skipped the gym one night to stay in and read. (Though he doesn't skip the range ever. EVER.) "May want to stay high, Cap. Just to keep out of their—"


"—What the hell?"

The doors closing, fine.. he gets that. Contain the contagion. Could and should've been done by the Agents on the ground. But the bomb? Grenade? Explodey thing?

Hawk leans forward, an arrow with a point designed to start a fire (okay, conflagration is more like it..) settled upon the string. He's pulled, and searching now for placement. "Status inside?" As in.. who was the idiot that blew up zombies and sent spore into the air? (Or so he believes!)

As for the Cavalry, well.. Hawkeye is hoping that she's not needed as such, but wouldn't be surprised if she does reprise her role…


Widow dives, rolling in under a closing loading dock door in the wearhouse, just in time for the fun to begin. "Bozhe moi," she swears, coming to her feet. She's far enough away from the center of the action that Domino's little display is very much more of a concert piece than a life-threatening action against her personally, but she starts relaying what's happening around her for the others' benefit, anyway. Just in case anyone's still outside.

"The place has gone into lock down. Do not try to breach. We've got a damned biotoxic cloud in here that needs to remain contained at all costs. I have eyes on the target. She's in the middle of it all." A beat. Her tone turns dry and, frankly, derisive. "Tossing grenades and blowing the blasted spore carriers wide open."

Translation: Domino's fault. Again. (Still?) Widow, not impressed.

She starts moving forward now, and pulls a Hawkeye, going for the high ground. She springs onto some cargo containers and leaps then for a rafter high over head. Gripping it, she crawls along it in fine web-slinger style, the micro suction cups on her suit giving her gravity defying style out-classed only by Spider-Man himself. (But she's prettier.) She moves to get a better angle on the fray.


As things begin to seal off, Cap acts quickly. He dives forward with a shoulder, narrowly avoiding something smashing down upon his body as he breaches the warehouse. Right away, Cap reaches to the backside of his shield and puts a mask over his face. "This is Cap. I'm inside. Who else made it in?"

His feet pad carefully on the ground as he moves slowly, trying to get his bearings.


Melinda May hears Barton's reaction to the explosion (and the explosion itself) over the various comms and refrains from cursing aloud — it would be a distraction for the others. At Widow's explanation of what's going on in the target warehouse, she checks the Quinjet's weapons systems (again). "Acknowledged, Widow. Protocol Orange ready." She's always, ALWAYS hated that nickname, especially considering its origins in Vietnam, but it is what it is. Her Quinjet is carrying enough chemical incendiary to scorch an entire city block down to the base concrete.


Evelyn swiftly turns on her heel at the explosion. A zombie falls towards her and she pushes him to the side in one swift movement. Reaching up two fingers, she activates the comm, "Concussive. Domino's here." That's all that needs to be said. For once it isn't Evelyn's fault. That's the best part of having Domino around. Looking to the side to take stock of the situation, Evelyn notices Widow. 'Be careful', she thinks, though perhaps that's a bit of out of place considering her current position in all of this.
'Moving to target'. Evelyn starts pushing through the crowd, which really starts jostling zombies. One takes a swing at her head as she ducks between a couple, and it hits her with a dull thud. Fortunately, she doesn't miss a beat and just keeps navigating, the helmet serving for good protection. This was a good idea. A hole is blown through the chest of the zombie next to her from Domino's shooting. Excellent, she must be near her. Though the surprise of the bullet whizzing by doesn't stop her from letting out a little yelp of surprise. One more zombie shoved aside, Evelyn reaches the clearing. Oh, look. A Domino.


This was supposed to be a private party as far as Dom was concerned. As bodies around her explode in a -poof!- of spores and the mist begins to blanket everything in a fine sickly green powder, she spots someone that isn't infected. Someone that isn't supposed to be here. -At all.-


(Shit, that means the others are nearby.)

She's not aware of Widow's wall-climbing abilities but she is familiar with how Barton works, the man loves his high ground. As the first spent rifle mag drops to the concrete floor with a clatter and her off-hand locks another one in she's taking a moment to look -up- toward the ceiling. About where she had come from, in fact. There's no way that Little Evvie's here all by herself. Not a chance in Hell.

"Welcome to cleanup, kiddo!" she yells through the mask before rattling off another burst into the crowd. It's fairly effective at holding the infected away, though it won't be a viable strategy forever. Heck, at some point her weapons may stop working or she'll lose the ability to see through the airborne soup. "Ever hear of a dust explosion? Tell your buddies not to breach the warehouse then grab a gun and start shooting, gonna blast this place to high hell in a minute!"

Airborne spores act like the dust, a good spark and the whole place will ignite like one massive bullet. In theory it should burn up all of the material before it gets out into the city.

In theory.

Of course, she couldn't get -every- one of the infected inside before getting started. There's a few still out there. Not many, but enough to keep May and Hawkeye company.


Hawkeye still doesn't know that it's Domino, though.. 'she'? He's got eyes on the ground, and swapping out arrows, he's beginning to take the shot so the stragglers don't get near the doors. Sure, it's locked down, but how tightly?

He's got their backs. He'll take the outside, while they've got the inside.

"Who exactly is 'she'?" He's got a hunch; zombie girl.. and it's not Evelyn, or 'Widow would have said as much. This time, the .. AI is firmly on their side.



"Stay high, 'Widow." As if she needs to be told? "Off the ground."

"Cap, you too."

Without having to move from his spot, a couple more arrows take flight through the air, landing with a soft *thunk* into the vitals of the lost souls. Mercy killing, really, as well as containing the contagion. When the warehouse goes up (He's got the incindiary arrows!), they'll add the outliers.

Evelyn's response gets a groan from Hawkeye, and a twitch of his jaw. "Great. Just… great." Don't screw up, Ev…

"May, I need you to scan for frequencies in there.. if Domino is on a com, I want to talk to her." To find out what the -hell- she's doing. Only, of course, if she's actively transmitting… which may not be the case. If she is? Who is she talking to if not us?


"Head-count," Widow replies to Cap's question, Hawk having gotten the answer to his from the AI. "You, me, Wolstenholm on the inside. Barton's guarding the gate. May's in the air. STRIKE's on the perimeter." At least, that's what she's gathered. "I'm rafters high on tango's five." Tango, of course, is Domino. And, yes, Widow is placing herself above her on a rafter behind her, just off to one side. She pulls out a rifle — tranq filled, this time — and takes aim at the albino. For reasons she doesn't really understand, the Director would prefer Thurman get brought in alive.

But, he's the boss, so she'll oblige him.

Besides, they have containment crews for the fungal soup. Not to mention May's payload and Hawkeye's arrows.


"I'm coming from the opposite direction," echoes Cap to Widow as he acts on Barton's insistence. He leaps off to the side and uses some of the plumbing to pull himself higher. It takes just a few seconds with the aid of his quickness; it almost looks as if it's done on fast forward. Cap pulls himself up and onto a catwalk and pulls the shield from his back, searching for this "Tango" person.


"Acknowledged, Hawkeye. Scanning." May reaches to toggle some controls off to one side, looking for Domino's comm frequency. If she has one.

"Side report. SHIELD containment personnel have this area completely evacuated. They've given the go-ahead to raze it all on my mark. I'm giving you thirty minutes to bag with Thurman and get to the extraction point before I drop the payload." The 'whether you get out or not' is left unsaid, but she knows the other SHIELD agents hear it regardless.


Evelyn stares at Domino. After a tick, she pushes the side of her helmet with three fingers, sticking the comm on activated. She's going to need her hands. "The spores are flammable." Fill in the blanks. Why would Domino be filling a warehouse with flammable spores and fire lots of guns? Stepping out of the crowd of zombies, Evelyn pulls right up next to Domino. She has an ally.
Or does she? Taking out her pistol, she aims it at Domino and fires, each report aimed for a weapon in Domino's hands. Hopefully, with Domino distracted by Evelyn, Widow will have a good shot for those tranqs without fear of being shot out of the rafters. Notwithstanding all the zombies that will likely rush in when Domino's unarmed. Evelyn has a plan for that, too. It involves the shotgun next to her.


Thank goodness for body armor. It means Dom's not going to have to get help in extracting slugs from her hands later on. Still, getting shot hurts! She's using soft armor, the kinetic energy needs to go -somewhere.- In this instance it ends up going to the rifle she had been holding, and shooting, until it's lying on the floor.

"Shoot THEM you malfunctioning piece of shit, what the hell?!"

The merc's still got more guns. Her hands may not be quite so eager to do what she needs them to do by now but she's not out of the fight yet. Widow's still got her chance to fire before the albino can get a pair of semi-automatic magnums in her hands, a shot into an infected from one of those would be like taking a sledgehammer to a balloon full of flour. Though, right now the first few shots might well end up going in Evelyn's direction…

The air's already thick with spores. It's also constantly getting worse. Widow's going to want to be very precise on where she sends that dart, both due to limited visibility and a moving armored target at a less than ideal angle. Very little of Dom isn't covered, and headshots just don't work so well with tranqs.

Searching for a comm does turn up something. It's not a communicator so much as it is a regular old phone connected to a headset. She does tend to work alone, after all. She's also very frequently tied to her work, which means she's rarely far from wireless contact. Even being a secure line it's child's play for SHIELD to crack it.


Hawkeye's expression is impassive now as he is set to work. He's got 'crowd control' down to a science, and there's nothing that's going to make it in behind those now locked in the building. The status report inside is a good one; he's got a good idea of what's going on, and who all the players are… and having worked with at least one of them before? He's got a pretty damned good idea of how it's all going down.

Or rather, how Domino is going to go down.

"Roger," is given as a courtesy, though. Again, short and to the point. And it answers pretty much everyone.

Spores are flammible? "That incindiary arrow is looking better and better." Barton thought as much; fire to completely dry up the mushroom spores, but now that he's got confirmation outside a lab? Though, May is also in place to take the place out. Either way, unless something is done, it'll get front page in the New York Post. And the 'Bugle.


Widow specializes in precision shots — maybe not to the same degree as Hawkeye, but she's had 70 years of practice at it to make up for what she lacks in enthusiasm to match his. Thus, she exhales, body rock steady, and gently squeezes her trigger.


A fairly sizable dose of her own special brand of knockout agent (affectionately known as the Widow's Kiss), goes lancing through the air towards an exposed spot on Domino's back or neck… someplace the armor doesn't conveniently cover as thoroughly as it perhaps should. She adjusts her aim swiftly for a second shot, this one aimed for a soft part on her lower body… just in case the first one doesn't hit. Domino, after all, is known to have extraordinary luck. She squeezes the trigger a second time.



As Cap turns a corner on the catwalk the scene unfolds in front of him. The shield is pulled back before a mighty throw in one motion. It peels through the air with a slight tilt that brings it arcing wide and towards the figure in back.

Rather than stay still, Cap is on the movie, zipping along the catwalk and closing the distance between himself and the albino mutant.


Melinda May finds that pathetic excuse for a comm line that is a CELL PHONE of all things, and links it directly to Barton. "You're on the air, Barton." There's not really much else for her to do at the moment, well, except think particularly unpleasant thoughts about Thurman. This mercenary woman has been way too much of a pain in their collective asses. She should consider herself lucky that Fury wants her brought in alive.


Evelyn is completely silent, and if you could see behind the tinted visors, you might see that her eyes say just enough. 'Fuck you'. Her pistol stays trained on Domino, and if she even so much as grabs for another gun. Pow pow pow! Her shots aren't as accurate now that Domino's moving around so much, likely at least one shot hitting her in the chestplate. Stepping back, Evelyn drops her pistol and grabs the shotgun as quickly as she can. Can't exactly kick up the shotgun all fancy-like like she did once more with a knife. Shotguns are heavier. In this break between her switching weapons, Domino might be able to grab a hidden pistol.


Well of -course- Domino's going to go for another gun. Two other guns. So. You know. She gets shot. By Evelyn. A lot. This really isn't working out how she had expected it to. Then again, what -does?- On the other hand, know what's really good at deflecting tranquilizer darts?

That would be Captain America's shield.


Albino goes in one direction. The Stars and Stripes shield goes in another. Widow's first dart pings off of the painted vibranium disc and zips across the room, striking an electrical box which had already been exposed hours ago when the merc set up her own remote trigger for setting off the sparks necessary to turn the warehouse into a smoking crater.

The dart's tip is made of metal.



Gone are the windows, the roof, most of the walls. In but a flash of a contained fireball the warehouse is no more. Dom barely had a chance to touch the ground before the explosion sends her even further along, limbs thrown out wide as she follows one of the far walls as it gets flung out toward the bay.

As far as taking care of the spore population goes it seems to have worked pretty darned well, at least!


And there… there is the frequency, and to discover that it's a cellphone? Brows rise behind those dark glasses, and he looks puzzled for a moment before a half-shrug rises. Barton changes over at May's quip, and he clears his throat, line live.

"This thing on?" Beat. "Domino, this is Hawkeye. I don't have to tell you that you're surrounded. Now… I'll give you a hint. The place is going to go up and you're interfering with an op." -Again.-

Silence is on the line a moment as Hawkeye lines up two more shots, and within a heartbeat or two, more shambling zombies that were headed for the door are dispatched.

Before Hawkeye can say anything else, however, the conflagration not of his own making begins, the warehouse going up as if it was (and it is) ground zero. But the timing- it's waaaay off. They still have people in that building— and—

Immediately, Hawkeye is calling for them, each one by name as he begins to leap down from his vantage point, trying to make his way -towards- the burning building.

"'Widow! Cap! Ev!—" and goddammit, what the hell is she trying to prove? "Domino!"




The fireball leaves Widow clinging to the beam she's on, rifle falling into the middle of the conflagration to clatter to the ground. The metal of the beam largely protects her from the worst of the blast, but not from falling debris from above. Fortunately, her suit is, in fact, resistant to extreme temperatures — as is the helmet. She rolls to one side as more of the building starts to crash around her, dropping the twenty feet straight down into the middle of the dissipating fireball. (The dust, after all, isn't going to burn forever — though the crates and other materiel stored in the place might not be so brief.)

She lands with a grunt, stumbling and hitting the deck, landing flat on her palms. As the fire ripples above her, now, she stays flattened and starts scrambling for some sort — any sort! — of shelter from the continuing fireworks as zombies begin exploding, their lungs bursting into flames because of the spores clogging their tissues.

Ultimately, she clears the central blast zone and rises into a crouch. There. An open window — and a sizable one, at that. She leaps and the jump pack on her back flares to life, repulsor singing. She's through and out into clean air in heartbeats, landing in the industrial yard beyond and running a few steps to keep her balance. She turns around, looking back to the wearhouse. Her voice crackles across the com, sounding winded and tight, perhaps a little bit in pain, "Widow." *pant* "Here. I'm out. Cap? Wolstenholm?"



The shield may have saved Domino there, but it continues on, bouncing and bamming off of the wall, and then the other wall, and disappearing into the haze.

Cap's eyes go wide as he realizes what's about to happen. But in the nick of time, the familiar whir of the shield he's carried for so long is music to his ears. He catches the shield just in time and puts it in front of his body to block the deadly blast.

When it's subsided a bit, Cap follows suit and leaps out of the building, crashing into a controlled roll, and bouncing to his feat. "Yeah, I'm here."


Having trained herself to not physically startle does not mean that May is incapable of being surprised. And that explosion? That was NOT planned. She's about to bark out a demand for everyone's status when Widow speaks up and Rogers replies. Knowing Barton wasn't inside means he can get away with not speaking up instantly. That just leaves Wolstenholm. Come on, Bolts. Say something. "Do you need extraction?" the pilot offers instead.


Having trained herself to not physically startle does not mean that May is incapable of being surprised. And that explosion? That was NOT planned. She's about to bark out a demand for everyone's status when Widow speaks up and Rogers replies. Knowing Barton wasn't inside means he can get away with not speaking up instantly. That just leaves Wolstenholm. Come on, Bolts. Say something. "Do you need extraction?" the pilot offers instead.


Just as Evelyn stands up with the shotgun, '*twang*' the explosives go off. Ev doesn't even have time to click the safety before she's thrown forward with the force of the blast. The shotgun skitters away under a bunch of zombies. Luckily, the fire does no damage to Evelyn, given her fire-resistant suit and helmet, but it does briefly suck the very air from her lungs as the fire takes in so much air to burn just for those few seconds. Now this pose is familiar, it's almost like an obstacle course. Just with more exploding zombies.
Evelyn's comm unit is still on, so her panting is audible as she crawls for Domino, scrambling to get to her feet and tackle the albino. She's perhaps the only one not rushing to exit the building, despite the gore and spores flying everywhere. There's no response to Hawkeye's call, there's just too much going on. Evelyn is relentless.


Alright… THAT sucked. Domino's going to have an awful bruise where Cap's shield hit her, the armor's not going to do much for that. Breathing hurts, though not just from the impact. Or the explosion. The filter's completely clogged with crud. Yet sprawled out on her back from the explosion she slowly reaches forward to twist the filter free, letting it drop from numbed fingers while fumbling to put another in its place.

That's when she catches sight of Evelyn boldly ..erm. Crawling. Toward her.

Oh, and Hawkeye had been on the line a moment ago!

"Your partner just crossed a line," she growls back into the wireless headset while pushing herself off of the debris-strewn dock. Then she reaches for a .40 caliber pistol, thumbing the hammer back as she levels the glowing sights toward Evelyn's head. "Glad you made it though, I wasn't done insulting you yet."

(Wait, Dom. She didn't come here alone. Call your priorities.)

Shoot Evelyn in the head, or get her tiny white ass moving? She's not going to break out of the Triskelion twice. For that matter they might put her somewhere even nastier.

A thin smirk creeps across blackened lips. 'This isn't over between you and I.' Revenge can wait, she's outnumbered, presently outgunned, and rather beat to shit on several levels. Ev can keep crawl-no wait, she's up and running now. Dom's going to turn and run/limp for the water's edge, but not before turning those sights onto Ev's leg and pulling the trigger. She liked it better when the android was crawling.

It worked once before. What are the odds of it working twice?

1 in 85,417.


There is no way that Barton can get near the building with it in flames. Searing hot air pours out of the building, black smoke, while flames leap high with so much fuel to feed it.

Stopping short, he catches the sound of Nat's voice, and he searches the immediate area, looking for where she might have landed. As Rogers' voice comes across in the headcount, Barton exhales in relief. Okay.. that's two..

The fact that Evelyn doesn't check in makes for an extremely grumpy Hawkeye. "Dammit, Evelyn, I'm responsible for you." And now he lost her?

Spinning around at the bit of movement right at the periphery of his vision, the bow is drawn and an arrow loosed in the next breath, striking an errant zombie that hadn't been caught in all the mess full in the chest. For a moment, the now host to the spore stands, looking quite surprised as an incindiary arrow burns a deep, black hole in the middle of its chest. It doesn't remain on its feet too long after, and falls face first onto the ground at Clint's feet.

'Your partner just crossed a line'.. which means, then that Evelyn is still alive. "Not done insulting me? You've got to be kidding me. You're the one—" No.. he's not going to start now, no.

Though now, it's obvious that Domino -isn't- in custody, and he starts to give the warehouse a wide berth, looking for any other exits that Domino may take. This isn't a new technique- this is the way they used to smoke out the badguys in centuries past. Light up their hiding spot, and take them out the moment they're out the door. Trick is, all the exits but one have to be blocked…


Evelyn's failure to respond isn't lost on Widow, either. Just because they can hear heavy breathing does not confirm the droid is 'alive and unhurt'. She starts running back toward the building, launching herself into the air. The repulsor on her back whines as she gains altitude, trying to get a bead on the situation. Thus, she's in the air when Domino turns around and starts shooting at Evelyn.

Soaring in the direction of the shots, Widow's reaching for her pistols. On the bright side, she can confirm the droid is moving. Second bright side? So's the merc. And Widow makes a call. Fury said he wanted Domino alive. He said nothing about 'in one piece'.

Thus, the Widow takes aim, saying over coms, "I have eyes on Wolstenholm and Thurman. I'm going for Thurman." Evelyn might be relentless. Widow, apparently, is implacable. And Thurman's at the top of her current shit list.

Shots ring out from a pair of sophisticatedly customized Makarovs. How lucky is that albino, really?


"What's your position, Widow? I'm going for the cut-off if she runs." Steve begins to run full tilt to the far side of the building from where Black Widow was. His legs begin trudging faster and faster as he looks to cut the albino woman off as she attempts to escape.


Screw this. May wheels the Quinjet around and it shoots toward ground zero of this op that's quickly falling to pieces. "I'm coming to you, Widow. ETA, 2 minutes." And things had BETTER be resolved by the time she gets there.


Evelyn is hot on Domino's tail. Almost .. Almost! Blam blam! Blam! Several shots hit the leg that was _JUST REPLACED_. There's a short yelp over the comms, and though no one but Ev can hear/feel it, a lot goes wrong with her leg all at once. Her full on run is interrupted just all at once and she goes tumbling, sort of landing on her shoulder and rolling to a stop. That pistol was mean, and it blew some rather nice chunks out of her leg, completely snapping at least several muscles.
With that, her motorcycle helmet goes tumbling on the ground away from her, and she grabs her leg while panting hard. Fuuuuuuck. Oooooow!


That whole 'turning and running' thing turns out to have been a -wonderful- idea on Domino's part. Maybe Evelyn's not going to catch up anytime soon but there's an archer, a Captain America, and that freaking redhead on a jetpack all still alive and kicking. And a Quinjet, but she's not aware of that one yet!

With her back turned on the likes of Widow her odds of dodging the incoming fire fall even outside of the luckbender's control. The fortunate part is that it's a lighter caliber being fired at a distance into body armor.

Still hurts like hell, though.

She's alive. That's all the X-Gene cares about. That she gets smacked about with pistol rounds doesn't seem to matter. One hits the back of her calf, causing her to stumble at the dock's edge. Another takes her in the shoulder. A third nicks her forehead, stupidly close to putting her down for good. Barton gets an audial play-by-play as she grunts into the microphone with each strike, lucky him.

The twisting motions she undergoes are not natural, limply falling off of the edge rather than diving in like a proper swimmer. The waters are dark. All of the unused gear strapped to the merc's smaller body acts like an anchor, drawing her to the very bottom.

A moment later and the line going through to Barton goes dead, muffled static replaced with silence.


Barton is actually on the move. He's on the ground and hasn't had the insult of having a building blow up all around him. So, he's in the game.

With 'Widow calling out and Cap chiming in, it's a pincher maneuver that Hawkeye is looking for; and the gunshots are more than enough for a beacon. Immediately, his random-direction jog turns more purposeful, and with any luck, he'll be meeting up with Cap. Nat has the air covered. She's fine.. fine enough that he doesn't have to worry too much about her.

Now, however, now he catches sight of Evelyn chasing Domino down, followed by the AI going down with a leg wound. Wincing in sympathetic pain, Hawk slows down to come up next to her; Domino is gone. He knows she is. She's the luckiest .. person he's ever met. Or maybe she's not?

Turning his com back to his 'home' frequency, he crouches next to Evelyn, forearms resting on his legs, bow held loosely. Reaching out with an unencumbered hand, he offers "Let me help you up." On com, however, he gives a secondary report, "Lost the target on voice. She's gone."

With the warehouse up in flames, it's time to go home to a debriefing that Hawk, for one, is just not looking forward to.


As Thurman pitches over, into the drink, Widow hears May's voice on com. "Copy," she says in response. She streaks lower. "The body!" she calls out to the others. "Find the body!" Otherwise, Ol' Nick'll have her head. Of course, if there's no body… Thurman's not dead. Romanova's sure of that much. She doesn't know exactly what Thurman's gifts are, but she's pretty sure 'lucky survivor' is one of them. Somehow.

Because, no one short of Cap or better should have been able to surivive a 40-50 story fall into the East River as ill as Thurman was. Hell, no one should have been able to survive most of what's happened to Thurman, without some pretty significant durability — which the med analysis on the woman say she doesn't have. (Oh, hell, yes, Nat read Dom's medical reports.)

So, call it process of elimination.

"If there's no body, she's gone, not dead."


Cap arrives, breathing slightly heavier than normal, just behind Widow. He peeks over the edge and then looks back at Natasha. "By the time we get a search crew out here combing the water, it's going to be light out. This is getting stickier than I would have hoped. Any word on Bolts?"


The Quinjet arrives precisely as promised, hovering over the water as there's no easy place to land the thing. Over the comms, May quips ever so helpfully, "I am NOT going down there after her." If anyone wants to keep their motorcycle, they're gonna have to load it into the Quinjet.


The docks are in ruin. The warehouse is a shattered and charred fragment of what it had once been (yet the graffiti still stands, darn Krylon.) There's a few infected bodies lying around in the rubble, mostly thanks to Hawkeye. Though, where there had once been a cleared out safehouse full of infected bodies?

They're all gone. -It's- gone. If anything of it yet remains within the city it should be much easier to contain. Somehow all of this seems to have worked out in the end.

Except for one loose thread…

Patient Zero is still unaccounted for.

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