Players: Volk, Domino, Jakob, and Misha
Summary: With the influx of needy people in the Underground, a group of four takes matters into their own hands. But this might just be preparation for something larger…
Date: 06-20-2020
Milk Run
**Rating: PG (Violence) ** Log Rating.
Hong Kong
While it might be afternoon in New York, for four of the members of the resistance, it's evening time in one of the few remaining bastions of humanity. In an third story apartment, the neon lights and the rain block most of the outside, only the occasional person on a bicycle or a car being seen at the odd angle. But at least for the group, it's one of the first hot and good meals to enjoy in a while, even if half of it is not recognizable, and there is tea to be had in a fresh carafe. Volk turns a large school chalkboard around with a map of what looks like a warehouse on it, with the title of Rong Zhi Yin Food Consortium Warehouse. Several points on it have been pre-marked. Then he goes to a paper-board, and writes down, -Sorry but the HYDRA base is a bust. Sources tell me it was raided a week ago. Local black market. My usual contacts here have shut up. But, we this is more important.-
Hot meals are few and far between, so Misha certainly didn't turn this one down. The dark-haired man has removed some of the dark, outer layers he normally wears, showing the much abused SHIELD uniform beneath. Can't beat the armor it provides though, so it stays. Like most other combatants, he carries a good deal of weaponry on his person in the form of guns and knives. Sitting to one side, even if it's on the floor, Misha pauses in scrafing down food to eye what Volk's doing. "What are we aiming for this time?" Asked with a smile. Yes, he actually enjoys this kind of thing. His power is perfect for it, especially since not everything has to be moved at once. He can teleport things to the dimension of his, and bring people there later for pick up.
MRE's and canned food was never choice when met with actual hot meals. Even Arsenal's helmet came off for this rare occasion. His jaw was working quietly as teeth ground together crushing food, his eyes trained on the chalkboard, one optical lense rolling back and forth as it mapped it out then resumed looking down at the meal before him. His armor didn't fully hide the SHIELD logos or red bands of Field Agent ranking, Misha he recognized brief encounters but nothing serious, another 'super' agent like himself. This gave a mutual ground for heavy respect but catching up or pal'n around wasn't on the agenda right now, he was listening, it seemed his best option in most cases like this.
Domino came in and did not take a seat, not yet, though in one hand she did hold a cup of tea, the heated meal on a makeshift table before her. Her eyes slid from Volk to Misha, an unknown to her, and then to Arsenal. Several things have made her ill at ease but instead of wearing the tension like another layer of clothing she just stood until it wound down, until everything was defined and she could find it in herself to relax.
Flipping over the page Volk writes down, -You all know that last night we freed almost 80-90 percent of the prisoners. Now we have the problem of a lack of foodstuffs and medical supplies. We're fixing that. Domino, Arsenal. This is our milk-run. We worked well on the rescue op, but that was a throw together. This next will be fully planned.- He stops and leaves it a few moments for everyone to read, and then flips to the third page, and writes down, -First. Domino, you're 2IC. I can't talk, and I need someone with experience when I'm pulling portal duty or injured. Misha will be my partner on this op. Our main job once we're inside is to secure non-perishable foodstuffs, medical supplies, and any other necessities we're going to need. Expect light security, but they will be armed.-
Misha too is watching the others, people he isn't familiar with, but there's no apparent wariness. Relaxed and enjoying his meal, but also paying attention to the answer he asked for. There's a nod about the plan, and he waits for the orders to be given before asking, "Do you want me to tag everything I'm able while I'm there? We can move it out later that way." Asked because he isn't sure if this is a grab and go, or something they want to get everything possible. Nearly empty food bowl put down, the man rises from his seat to begin putting on his attire. The layers aren't restrictive, but do obscure his form and the weapons he carries.
Arsenal gave a flat stare at the chalkboard re-reading the title. A warehouse of foodstuffs. His lips quirk abit as he sits there, pushing the grub away to lean back into his seat with a creak of armor and clothing, both arms folding over his chest one leg began to bounce with excess energy. He waited for more details before his questions were fired out, figuring Connor was not done talking yet.
Domino's jaw tensed, the muscles along jaw line shifting as she rocked her jaw back and forth and kept to her silence. Once Volk was done with his laying out of the plans questions and comments would be brought to light, until then she kept her stoicism and gave an affirming nod that she caught all that Volk had said and was thus far, accepting of it. The tea was risen and sipped, a glance down to it with a small flick of her eyes in only a second of thought wondering when the last time she had tea even was.
Slung across her back was the fixed HK, the two Brownings were secured in her shoulder rig and the tactical belt of heavy wear was slung around suit swathed hips. Around her right upper thigh new straps had been placed and modified, daggers slid in place and on her upper left thigh something a bit different was being shaped, apparently unfinished as they wre called here.
The odd briefing continues on as page #4 is exposed, blank and then written upon by the youngest member of the team, -Once we're inside, Domino, you and Arsenal will locate and neutralize any armed security. Alarms are located on the board marked with A, cameras with C. Remember these are paid security, but we're not here to kill anyone. Misha and I will go to the warehouse foreman's office and will cut the computer feeds to cameras and external alarm systems. From there, we break from pairs and use forklifts and whatever else available to shift supplies to the exit point marked X on the map. Misha - Pharmaceuticals, Arsenal - Non-Perisable Foodstuff, Volk - Liquids, Domino - Wild Card. Clear?- Stepping back and motioning to the warehouse once more, Volk consults some notes, and then marks each of the first three items on the board, zoned with different colors.
Guess that's a no. Smiling faintly to himself for some reason, Misha pauses to read, but then focuses in on readying himself. It doesn't take long. And once that's done he picks up the remains of his meal. Eating it all in case he misses one later. Pays special attention to the map, memorizing it. Wouldn't do to be wheeling things around and get lost. Doesn't have anything more to ask at this point.
"So our mission statement is acquisition of goods.What additional intel do we have on their security, you say light but what is your idea of light? Their equipment and numbers? We have any additional zones of interest or specifics aside from no killing, such as E&E procedures? I take it this is black also and we're not going in with noise and distraction…"Arsenal spoke to them in terms he figured would be easily understood. Quick and gritty as was standard for military personal. Some part of the man was excited, finally some bit of organization perhaps. Something he trusted in and relied upon. Already standing up as if he is ready, despite some lack of full on detail. He had faith it would seem or really just a deathwish.
This was planned, this was working as a team, and it made her feel just enough comfort to finally step forward and lower into the seat before the food that had cooled to the point that nearly no steam rose off it, just small whisps. Taking her time with it her eyes flicked from the bowl to the board and studied it, memorized it and then spoke up. "I'm green, but…Do Arsenal and I just get our assigned good to the mark, I assume it is handled back at base as to where all of this will go? Also, security, they free roam or have their posts been marked in a near target like the cameras and the rest?" She stopped and silenced as Arsenal spoke up, the inquiries the same, she took the moment to dig into the food, trying to not make haste of it, so used to eating on the go or out of containers.
After a nod, Volk breaks it down a bit further, -Security should be typical for corporate civilian facilities. No supers, nothing over the top. Expect kevlar and standard firearms for the region. Chinese AKs or derivates, chinese-made pistols. There are two external guard points with a guard shack for rest shifts. They can be neutralized by locking and sealing ourselves in. Once we have the cameras we can direct both of you to find and neutralize the remainder guards. Cut the alarms are you go. Inside are at least eight to ten roaming teams of two to four guards. There is a silent alarm system in the foreman's office, which is why we will take it out ASAP. Extraction is on me via portal. If for some reason I'm done, Domino, outside the warehouse will be several shipping trucks. Steal one and I have notes for a warehouse where the manager can be bribed to store things until I am recovered enough to perform a proper extraction.-
"Anything we can't get in one run, due to unforeseen problems, I can move to my private dimension for storage. We can come back later for it." Misha adds, for if something goes wrong. And something normally does. "This does add it's own set of complications, but it would mean not directly losing the supplies." He shrugs, putting his empty dish down. "Volk, are we going in my way, or teleporting?" Since he can get into the warehouse, and the office, without any chance of being seen. Unless they have someone who can sense teleporters, or a high level telepath laying around listening for him. Of course going in his way still leaves the guards, but he figures those can be dealt with after the alarms are cut off.
"Easy enough sounding." Arsenal remarks, his helmet being drawn back on and reclasped. A heavy sigh escaping him once he was ready, at his side the OICW was drawn out and a the clip was discharged to be checked then replaced. Weapon suspending down to hang off his shoulder, he didn't much intend to use it - but it was a familiar friend and a comfortable weight in his arms, the sling made for easy adjustment incase it became a disturbance anyways. "RedCom4, lets get this going." Pausing only to wait for Misha's question to be answered.
Domino paused as Volk spoke again, nodding at the back up plan. So there was one of those as well. It seemed to be planned well enough and Misha's voicing of his ability gets a moment of pause in her look towards him before she resumed eating a bit more, her pace obviously slowing before the bowl was half empty. There was only so much you could put away before it started to overfill you and make you tired. She would not risk that. Pushing the bowl away now she pulled gloves from her tac belt and slid them on, metal plating on the backs of them to cover over the knuckles as a protector, Sentinel armor having replaced the old metal that once was there. "Then let's hope nothing goes wrong and it is in and out, no need for plan B." Her eyes remained focused as she wrapped a leather strap around her wrist and fastened it in place, her sleeves worked back to reveal the wrist sheaths that were spring loaded, her own inventory being done before she rose to stand. So little, so simple, too simple…But she had some form of hope and was ready to go.
Not having touched any food as of yet, Volk reaches over and shoves a bit down his gullet, then goes back to the board and points to a spot in the northwest corner of the warehouse, circling the point, writing next to it -Blind Spot.- Tapping it a couple times, he then takes out a second PDA like his own. Both Misha and Arsenal would recognize it as one of the nice SHIELD-Agent issue PDAs. High memory, multi-function, long battery life. It is handed to Domino, after showing her that it has the warehouse map on it, all the mission notes, as well as the information for the secondary point along with an account number with five thousand euros in it. Going back to his notes and things, both Arsenal and Misha are handed pictures showing the physical locations of foodstuffs for the merc… and the secured and fenced warehouse portion that Misha gets where the standard pharmaceuticals, and the much more prized prescription medications are housed.
One last thing is written on the board, -Clean house before we leave. Misha - Prints, Domino - External Check, Arsenal and I - Dump info and sweep.-
Most certainly it will wear him out, but Misha's more than willing to take that risk. People are depending on this stuff after all. And honestly, like all this massive teleporting isn't a risk to Connor? People never mention that. He smiles as Domino says to hope, for he does. Doesn't chide her at all, and instead merely keeps that smile. What will happen, will happen. "I'm ready." Said as he pulls up his hood. He accepts the picture and in that he looks at it, the thing is folded and tucked into a pocket beneath his outer layers. Just in case.
Domino steps up to Volk and accepts the PDA, looking it over and handing it to Arsenal as well. "Can you download all that so we are on the same page?" She likely did not have to ask him, they had worked together for years, thus far there was no one she trusted more. Domino knew one thing about working on a team, they all had to have the same information in pairings like this. Pausing she turned to face Misha and nodded to him, at least getting an introduction in before this began. "Domino." Glancing back to the board she nodded, the blind spot for the Wild Card? Either way, she would serve as a good distraction if one was needed to get them out.
Clean-up is easy enough for the team. The board is erased, the paper is gathered up, and the last couple of blank pages under what was written as well. All the leftover food is bundled up, and the little leftover tea is dropped into the toilet and flushed. After Misha's sweep and the external check is completed, the four step outside in order to take the disposal goods and drop them into a dumpster… which then he adds lighter fluid and a match to. As the evidence of the op is burned, Volk moves with the group, all having to touch for this part… and the four vanish! For the other three, for a brief moment, they see other lives for themselves, Domino kneeling before Mister Sinister as a Marauder… Jakob in a suit getting a message about Air Force One being ready to board and confirming… Misha looking at himself in the mirror in a HYDRA uniform. But is passes, and the quartet are in a dark corner of the massive warehouse.
His smile grows for the introduction. "Misha. I gave up code names long ago." There was never any need after he left SHIELD. The man appreciates being given a name for her though, and he nods acceptance. Oh, and his accent is a years worn Polish. "A pleasure working with you all." He is serious about all this. It's more that he doesn't see the need to be grim about it. And with that he's helping. Vanishing without any special effects to check outside, and eyeing the garbage. "I could have made it disappear." And without chance of it being found. No biggie though, and he's boggling at the idea of working for Hydra. Okay, that was cool. Wonder what else he's done. As the group appears the man's eyes shift to green. A subtle change showing that his powers are active and waiting use. No glow or anything, just a small shift in hue. Not even an unnatural one either. Misha goes from hazel eyes to clear green. Doesn't vanish immediately though, but that will be soon enough.
Back into the reality that he knew Arsenal heard the brief words from Misha, "Arsenal." He remarks as he instantly moved against a wall his shoulder pushing to it. A quick scan being done of the surrounding area picking up. The weapon in his hands lifted up and held at chest-level. The other reality seemed a novel idea, one he could have appreciated in another life. His eye twitches abit as it adjusts to the lighting, security, to non-perishables. Mapping that out from the chalkboard skits and what bit of data Volk had supplied them with. He'd wait until movement from the others commenced before he picked up, right now covering was his first instinct.
"My code name is all I ever give anymore." If someone knew her aliases, it meant they were old acquaintances, friend or foe, it didn't matter - it served a good warning if someone called her something else. The teleportation was never something she fully enjoyed. When they reappeared in a darker corner she was fighting off the greeen around the edges and not like Misha's eyes. Her other life may have helped add to that but it was abruptly ignored as she pressed back as a hand slipped down to her tac belt and withdrew the cord gun, fastening it on the outside to her hip. Her eyes went up, searching for camera's as well as anyone on higher op points that may get easily missed.
The warehouse is dimly lit in this area, and looking up, Domino can immediately spot that they're under a camera, and outside the view of other cameras as this seems to be a point where they store unused pallets for repackaging materials. There is the sound of footsteps off in the distance and the muted voices speaking Chinese somewhere to the left and beyond sight, followed by the scent of tobacco smoke in faint in the air. Volk sweeps left with his FAMAS, and then pats Misha on the shoulder and motions with his head in the direction towards the elevated foreman's office. As the man moves there's a rippling in the air around him, and suddenly there's barely any sign of him at all, though the rest can hear his light footsteps as he fades himself into a stealth-walk. Once Misha is to follow… Jakob and Domino are left to do what they do best.
Misha nods with understanding. Some people don't. Nothing for him to worry about. Domino and Arsenal don't know him. Why should they trust totally? The pat on the shoulder and he's gone. Only Volk can feel him now, and he's off towards that office. Unseen and undetectable for the normal guards. His other side echoes the terrain of the 'real world' so he can head up those steps as well. Up steps, through doors that aren't solid, and appear where he's best needed. If there's anyone in that office, he positions himself to take them out as quietly as possible. Gosh, you'd think he'd done this before?
Once Misha and Volk fade from sight, Arsenal pushes off the wall. Two of his fingers rise up and he motions towards Domino, then circles his fist around towards his own right, letting her know he was keeping eyes on while obviously sweeping that direction. His intended targets being the security personel his own motion sensory systems should be picking up, for all the cybernetic components the main contained he moved with amazing stealth slinking along the wall to flower in a low crouch to duckwalk that had him pressing his back against a rack of crates. Once at the edge near the footfalls he stand up straight, half turn around the corner and the man's neck would be in the grip of vice-like robotic fingers that instantly crush down and cut off airflow, timed so he would hit that unconscious point and not move into death. The two that had been heard speaking Chinese on the left, those were given to Domino. Once the man's body toppled he would quickly tie him up and shove him onto the rack behind him. While doing this he was staying in the designated blind-spots, surveying for where to tear down the rest of security if it wasn't done by one of the others soon.
A fault Domino had learned and loved, is most people did not look up, nor did they tend to have the camera's aimed up, it was on the merchandise and the guards, and they all seemed to be at ground level. None of her weapons were drawn, she was going for silence until it could not be had any more. The weapons were tested for sturdiness and the HK was spun to her front and tightened down as her back pressed firmly against the wall. The cord gun was removed from her belt and aimed up at a high beam, fired silently save for the zip of wire expelling from it that was like a whisper. Locking the device back into place she nods to Arsenal's motions and begins her own swift ascension up that wire, passing the security camera and removing a tacky substance from her tack belt to put over the lens, blacking it out in case all else failed or a back up power came into play. She still had her own methods as back up as well.
Hitting one of those beans she pulls up the cord and moves with a liquid feline grace above Arsenal and in spotting the two to his left she moved across the beam that had her 20 feet off the ground over them. Lowering to a crouch she fastened the cord and slowly dropped down. One man was conversing with the other before a large pallet, both of them passing back and forth what was assumed was a cigarette, the only tell tale signs of motion coming from above was the breeze of her hands dropping down and gripping both of them by the backs of their necks and slamming their head together with a force that let out a crack, their noses spurting blood and their bodies dropping with her own coming to land over them, dragging them out of sight to be bound before she went back up.
Inside the foreman's office that Misha can see are desks and files, while the presence of three bodies can be detected. One man at a computer desk, and two playing cards. Coming up to the door, Volk reappears into the visual spectrum, keeping himself out of view of the windows, and then there's a flash-step from him and instead of firing anything, both his hands flick outwards towards the pair of guards at the card table. Blue-green bolts of energy lance out from him, a pair of small disks of force that strike each of the surprised men. The glow coruscates over the pair for a long moment as they seize up, their body's EM field being interrupted for a moment by the attack, and then both drop to the floor unconscious, leaving the stunned and cigar-smoking supervisor for Misha. The two guards go down, but as Domino goes back up, she can spot a group of four closing in on Arsenal's position. They're not moving in a rush, in fact they seems to be talking to themselves, discussing something with the vigor of men who share the same enthusiams.
Misha reappears and motions with his hands. While the effects are a vague distortion on the air, the man puts two monofilament blades through the supervisors skull. It's the easiest and most effective way of downing him fast and without warning. No, the man doesn't care that he just killed another. The body vanishes as it begins to drop. Nothing left to clutter up the room. Misha doesn't linger over this however, as he's computers to disable and lines to cut. Finding them, he uses the same power to cut what he was ordered to.
Motion sensory and some confidence Arsenal determined it was safe to knock out the wall he was located at, the further away guardsman would probably just think a light or two went out if they paid close attention, otherwise it should go un-noticed. After taking the firearms off of the downed guardsman and shoving them into a military grade gunny sack the cyborg moved up against the wall he was inspecting, tearing open one of the cables that lead to a box that wound up along the structure to support two of the cameras, and some bit of the alarms interface. A small plug came out of his shoulder, running it down into the wall Arsenal connected it up, systematically he would try to fry the security systems starting with this one and the lighting over here, as long as he didn't surge anything in himself in the process. Those four men closing in on his location would be blanketed with a lack of lighting, at least for this corner as it was blanketed in darkness. Hopefully Misha's own actions would shut down the rest of the systems he couldn't reach from here.
Domino may have been hard to miss by the others who were unsuspecting but her vantage points was known to her partner and swinging back to the cross beams she moved with the silent ease across, standing just behind the four, but above them, her hand dropping down to grip a small shred of torn off aluminum from a can. A small shift to the side as her eyes studied the light directions and her hand roated that trinket to face shiny side out and arching down to Arsenal's position. A flicker of reflected light at the crates just before him to gain his attention if her stance did not. Her fingers slid over the shine, blocking it then revealing it. A swift motion done four times to alert him of the amount of people coming in. That was done and the piece was tucked back away as long strides carried her silently just behind them on the rafters. The high road only words for so long with convenience, the cord was dropped and wrapped back down, fast and deft motions locking it into place as her weight came down to land silent behind the four that seemed very much involved in conversation. Knocking them out, she'd try, but ther hands opened and the glint of blades flashed from her wrists. Moving behind a crate she lowered to a crouch and knoked a box off the top. Intentional, and making them spin, one man seemd designated to go investigate while the three waited.
There's a frown from Volk as he watches Misha take the kill, but that's all that can be given. While Misha starts working with the computer security hub, the door controls, and the silent alarm systems, the other man starts going through the physical manifests, looking over what he can recognize and trying to see if anything else that the resistance might need could be present. The four guards come closer to Arsenal's position, but still the pair have not been detected or suspected, the position of the two guards only having one tell-tale, the spots of mingled blood on the ground. One turns away from the group however and pulls out a cellular phone, holding up a newspaper and begins to talk with someone. Over the comm line, both Domino and Arsenal receive three taps on the shared comm frequency, a clear sign from the first team… objective achieved.
Misha straightens and gives a signal that he's done and he goes over to help Volk. If help is needed. "Want me to head out for my spot?" Asked in a quiet murmur as papers shuffle. Give the word and the man will disappear again. There are guards to be taken care of. Won't kill them if he doesn't have to. Of course if he has to, he's going to. Soon back on ground level, Misha seeks out the first set of guards on the way. His foot steps are unheard, and he disturbers the environment not at all. At least until he spots some shrink wrap. That will do. Flickering into the real world, he grabs it and disappears again. Tied up guards can't do a whole lot, right?
Arsenal's arm would spasm in a jerk as electrical currents buzzed through it, snapping back he pulled free dislodging the small cable, letting it hang down while he peeled away, following the motion sensors read out, darkness cloaking his movements for the moment that clatter of box and the knock out of one large dome light conveniently timed, probably some form of wild luck. He ignored the man inspecting the crate to move up behind the other three, that metal hand becoming a bludgeon dropping the one in the middle with a heavy crush from behind of fist on the back of a temple, the man wasn't dead but will probably have a severe concussion, the second he would wrap up in his other forearm, tucking into his chest while squeezing down on his esophagus a makeshift one armed sleeper, that robotic hand jerking roughly to pull back and slap the other man across the teeth sending him to sprawl across the ground, these were pulled punches that had a several ton strength limit behind them. The sound of someones pearly whites dancing across the cement was abit gross. That last guy might have been killed, Arsenal wasn't sure. This left the one on inspection to Domino.
The one that was left to inspection of the clatter was standing there looking down at what fell, it was a bag of flour, and he bent to pick it up, inspecting it before the blur of movement came from behind the pallet. Her upper body had lowered in a spin, putting her weight and the momentum of the spin kick towards the guards head. The impact made a snapping sound that told something broke, and it was likely his jaw as he dropped in a puff of white, the bag of flour busted open as well. Coming back to a stand she rushed out with one arm up and blocking her face as the other was lowered and at the ready to swipe only to find the other three….In a perdicament from death to having to sip food through straws for life. The tap of three on the comm had her nodding and glancing to Arsenal, stepping back into the cluster of pallets to seek out more guards, another group of two seemed to be looking up at the popped light while a third was heading towards a supply closet muttering in Chinese. Likely not enjoying having maintenance duty on top of security detail.
Despite the large size of the warehouse, it's a matter of 20 minutes for the three to take down, disable, or kill every guard in the complex, seal every door, and disable the place from the inside out. In the meantime Volk is off getting the pallet-lifts up and running, and while the group gathers, each person has one available like some kind of insane little go-kart. Perhaps as a bit of injustice, all the unconscious guards are collective wrapped from neck to toe in shrink wrap, reminiscent of Spider-Man's web-cocoons. With everything ready, the hand-signal is given for all to roll out, flashing five fingers five times, to tell everyone that they need to depart in at least fifteen minutes. For everyone else… the job is easy at this point. Shifting pallets. For Misha on the other hand… the fenced off area still has physical locks barring him from the valuable prescription medications.
Physical locks? What locks? Misha does make sure that this thing doesn't have an alarm of its own, but beyond that inspection those locks disappear for a touch. He can make holes in just about anything except the uber metals. Locks are no trouble unless they are adamantium. After that it's a matter of getting everything transportable. He's still sure to be the last one there with a first load, but Misha gets some medical supplies to the meeting point!
Arsenal was loading up food as he was designated. Anything long-lasting, canned, packaged and in most cases generally disgusting, in addition to that though he was collecting fallen guardsmen's firearms, ammunition, kevlar and I.D.'s. He'd carry on with this task making sure it was loaded up as compact as possible, the weight of it not a serious concern for now, more the akwardness of the load and how much the others could portal or not. Once a sizeable and managable amount of goods is gathered up he makes sure to gather with the others at the evac point.
Not one need for the use of a firearm and Domino was actually shocked. Luck seemed to be with the group well enough and as she got into the pallet jack and loaded goods. A couple loads and she was heading back in for a clean sweep, pushing into that supply closet one man had been laid out just before reaching. Supplies from cleaning chemicals to bulbs, lamp oils and an old crate. Pausing her head tilted and she pried open the lid, looking through files of old store units for food goods, munitions, and medical, as well as their classification of being able or downed. Perhaps usable, perhaps not, it was more to add to a larger box she had put on the final pallet jack with the closet supplies. Pulling back up to the gathering area she let it drop into the designated point and stepped off the lift, looking around, the readiness still not faded from between shoulder blades and the stance of her body.
After three sets of trips from each person involves, there's a dozen pallets in a row there, and Volk parts ways with his lift device. Moving to the front of the line of things, Volk initiates his portal, the familiar glow coming before the burst and flash of energy that signals the spin-up of the portal from a mote of light to a six-foot plane of power. While the other three go back off to get some final loads, look for final little prizes, and otherwise… the first pallet of nothing but bottled water, water purifiers, and empty but usuable storage bottles floats up and then passes through. On the other side is Jono, catching and lifting it to one side where it will be broken down by the resistance for storage and distribution. The second is nothing but dehydrated coffee and basic teas. Once more it lifts up as gravity cancells out, and once more he gives it a shove, passing it through. From outside however, there begins to be a banging on one of the exterior delivery doors.
Misha does go back for a final load. Medical supplies are an absolute necessity, especially with that horde of freed mutants now joining the rebellion. So he toddles on back to get that one last load. He pauses at the banging, but then says into his comm, "Company. No entry yet." Avon is calling!
As for Jonothon he's wrapped in fire as he moves things. A bright blue portal with a core of reds and oranges. Long tendrils of fire wrap around pallets and lift them wholesale. The man himself doesn't motion as his telekinesis works. Just a thin guy in black wrapped in fire as large pallets are lifted and carried off.
Arsenal would carry on quietly, no words conveyed to anyone as this became duty and he wanted to complete it. Once everything was secure he would run a quick sweep and make sure no tell-tale signs of who had done this heist were left behind.
The knocking on the back door had a slight hiss exit between clenched teeth. Her outer skirting was cut short so as not to alert those at the back waiting for entry for a delivery. Deepening her voice she yelled across the emptying plant in Chinese so to keep suspicions off the rise and buy them time, stepping back after she did so. "Quing deng yo xai!" One moment please! Looking to the three the haste needed was apparent.
Before they have to depart, Volk had to open a second portal. A total of twenty-two pallets of foodstuffs, drink, medical supplies, and Domino's little runs of specialty goods are passed through before the group has to depart. Domino's attempts to forestall the outer guards from breaking in surprisingly work, until one of them yells back something about why a hooker is telling them all to wait. By the time Misha and Volk are passing through and vanishing with little trace of any of them, the door is actually shotgunned open by the police, and the delivery door rolls up in time to see… nothing. Back in the tunnels, Arsenal and Domino are treated to pats on the backs and thanks. But for Domino, the PDA she has beeps, and as she checks it, a new mission comes up, calling for explosives and heavy arms, and a time and location to meet.
