Lobo Malo

Chapter 21 - The Firebird Suite

Overture: West Potomac Park Sector
0925 EST

The smell of gunpowder and blood hung in the air as Team Peacemaker surveyed the chamber. They'd come down into the tunnels beneath the Mall looking for a team of medics who'd been hiding out from the Outcasts, the True Sons, and (oddly) the Campus. Apparently, their efforts to stay neutral were becoming insufficient, and Henry Hayes had finally convinced them to come join him. Unfortunately, despite the recent destruction of their base, the Outcasts weren't feeling particularly obliging.

"Almost comforting," Tarvey muttered as he nudged a corpse with the toe of his combat boot.

"What's comforting about this?" demanded one of the medics.

"Whatever Emeline Shaw was thinking trying to get off Roosevelt Island, she clearly had planned ahead. These dumb bastards were a stay behind force. Sort of like us, in a perverse sort of way." Tarvey grimaced, disliking the necessity of keeping the truth of Shaw's demise from civilians. Odessa Sawyer, he knew, had been briefed. Hayes, however, hadn't been told. Ultimately, it came down to a question of discretion. And while Hayes wasn't exactly a blabbermouth, he didn't have the same temperament as Sawyer. Team Peacemaker knew she could keep her mouth shut about damned near anything. "I suppose there's a bloodthirsty little part of me that takes a sense of comfort in the fact they're still fighting hard. If they gave up on me, I think I might be offended."

The medic gave him a faintly disgusted look. "You're a strange man, Agent Tarvey."

"That he is," said Gregory agreeably, grinning at Tarvey. "Unfortunately, he's really very good at his job, and we can't ship him off to Alaska or Guam anymore. One more cruel little twist of the knife in the post-apocalypse."

Tarvey smiled back affectionately as he gave Gregory the finger.  "Love you, too, Peace."

Ryckmen came over, his MDR aimed at the ground. "All right, guys, we're ready to go here. Doc, we're going to be meeting up with a civilian militia team operating out of Ivy Tunnel. They'll meet us at C Street and take you up 21st Street to the Campus."

"Thank you, Agent Ryckmen."

"Happy to help out. And I know Henry will be very appreciative for you joining him." Ryckmen looked at Tarvey. "Ricky, you're on point. Head'em out."

Nodding, Tarvey started walking down a tunnel branch, heading for a ladder which would lead him to the surface. Other agents, as well as civilian militia, had reported encounters with hostile individuals roaming the service tunnels and sewers of the city. People who didn't seem to be affiliated with the existing factions. Tarvey didn't know who they were, but they weren't going to get very far with him on point.

Reaching the ladder, Tarvey wrapped the shoulder strap of his MP5 around his forearm, then began climbing up slowly. The rest of the team would wait at the bottom for the all clear. While there were sections of tunnel which could be accessed fairly openly, others had steel rebar ladders set beneath manholes. Even somebody like Gregory, who had a completely civilian background, realized how deadly those ladders could be as an ambush spot. The team had established the protocol for such situations early on. The point slot would go first, ensure the area was clear, then cover the top of the ladder while the rest of the team came up to reinforce.

Tarvey poked his head up, scanning the area quickly. This particular manhole had far too much shrubbery close by. He climbed out, bringing the MP5 to battery as he made a second scan. As he turned to his right, he felt searing pain rip across his right shoulder as buckshot pellets tore through his shirt and across his skin with the roar of a shotgun behind them. A knot of True Sons had come close to the manhole and were starting to advance. The only saving grace was that the shot had gone wide, the edge of the pattern catching him.