nextgenerationmarvel | Veridian Under Siege

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Veridian Under Siege

Time: 11:00 am Friday
Where: Veridian Dynamics
Who: Purifiers, Vargas, Marcelo, Sage, possibly others
What: The Purifiers have chosen to make a statement, and Marcelo's corporation is the unfortunate target.
Warnings: Possible violent content.

The time had come for the Crusade to make a big statement, to show its power and purpose to a world that seemed drifting towards damnation. The Brethren had made their orders, and Vargas was to lead a handpicked group of Purifiers in an assault on a major corporate power that had aligned itself with the mutant curse. Originally, Vargas had insisted they assault Shaw Industries directly but it had been vetoed by the Brethren on the grounds that Shaw Industries was a virtual fortress, possessed not only of defences but of actual weapons systems that would likely have turned any effort at attack into a bloody debacle, let alone the presence of numerous powerful mutants, but also because Veridian was an international corporation and the effects of the attack would echo beyond the borders of the United States.

They would make the approach by two directions, one from underground, blasting into the subbasements of Veridian and the other from the ground, approaching in an armoured helicopter. The attack from the ground would be directed by twenty armoured Purifiers, men equipped with heavy weaponry and armour proof against all but the strongest of attacks. From the air would descend another twelve, modern-day Disciples and Apostles, armed the same but made up of the most experienced and capable members of the organization, all former military men, mostly former special forces. Along with them would go Vargas himself, brandishing the blade he'd found many years ago, near the beginning of his personal war against the forces of genetic corruption.

Though he was the commander of this mission, he knew that in the end, he was naught but a servant, a faithful slave to the One True God, the Lord of Hosts. He had spent the journey to the Veridian Dynamics tower in prayer and contemplation, eagerly imploring the Lord's blessing in what they had to do. Their misson was to make a wreckage of Veridian Dynamics and seize Marcelo Alencar da Silva as a hostage. Vargas would have preferred that he be made a bloody example of, but the Brethren were wise and believed he had value as a hostage. Getting Veridian, the most important company to so far subscribe to the Shaw girl's blasphemous drive to accept mutants into the body politic to abandon the plans and getting rid of a prominent mutant sympathsizer to Brazil would be victories. He would trust his masters, both Earthly and Heavenly. He was a soldier, pledging his sword for Father, Son and Holy Spirit. To doubt or question was not his to do.

As they approached, they opened up fire against the side of the building. It was then that they got their first surprise. While the Vulcan cannon they used was capable of shattering individual panes, it wasn't capable of inflicting collateral damage. In fact, it was barely doing the job on individual panes as it was. Clearly, the glass being used in Veridian wasn't ordinary. But it didn't take long for enough of the top few floors to be cracked open for the teams to go in, lead by Vargas himself. The security guards armed with tasers and net guns were another small surprise, though the tasers were useless against the armoured shell of the Purifiers and even the nets, while somewhat inconvenient, assumed ordinary human targets or close to them. Knock-out gas would have been highly effective, save for the full NBC protection offered by the Purifier armour.

In the end, the difference lay almost as much in the intent of the Purifiers. Veridian security had likely been organized around preventing theft and vandalism against motley bands of supervillains or mere terrorists, not military-trained men with heavy weaponry bent on making a statement about the enduring power of their faith before the world.

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He shook his head. He closed his eyes for a moment to steel himself. Stephanie would not like this plan one bit. But his people needed him to do something than run for cover.

"I need to make sure as many people get out as possible. My security teams are dying. I have something vastly more important for you to do."

He clipped the comm unit on his belt. "I need you to find my father in the subbasement and get him out safely. Call help. Whatever help you can get. The police alone aren't going to cut it. Then come back and save me. Because by then I'll need it."

Sage raised an eyebrow at the directions. He didn't want much, did he? "I'd much rather get the both of you out of here, now. Seems more efficient that way..."

Calling for help she could do, though. While she spoke with him, she put a message through to the X-Men. Hopefully, they wouldn't take long to arrive.

Vargas was bearing down hard on Marcelo's location, cutting through anyone in his path, having already left several dead fools along his path. Perhaps God would have mercy upon their souls- if so, killing them was hardly a cruel thing to do for they would enjoy Heaven, if they were damned, though, it was simply Vargas doing his duty as a soldier of God. Along the way to Marcelo's office, he encountered a woman carrying an oversized purse.

It took only a few seconds for him to move towards her and with a flash of his blade too fast for the naked eye to even register, plunge the steel deep inside her. He knew Marcelo was on this floor.

He would hear the scream and then any sounds thereafter she made. It would take her several minutes to die, though it was virtually inevitable. Saving her life would have required the immediate presence of a dedicated trauma surgeon and a full operating theatre.

She didn't disappoint him. Now, it would be interesting to see if he came out to avenge her or if he simply let her die, alone.

"My father's the most important person in this building. Get him out. I have to help my employees. Please, save him. I'm putting all my faith into you to do that." His fingers twitched. He wished he had his Vesper gear here. Even his old suit, but all of that was at that was at home.

Then came the godawful scream. He turned toward the sound. Had Luiza gone that way? Marcelo hoped with everything he had he misremembered. He glanced at Sage. "Go. Now."

He moved toward one of the fire extinguishers in the office. It could do as a weapon. Or remind him how he utterly fails at panicked public situations. He clamped down on his thoughts and went toward where he heard the screaming with the bright red extinguisher in hand.

This may turn out to be one of her shorter employment experiences...

She turned on her heel and headed out the opposite way, scanning a virtual simulation of the building's schematics for the fastest route to the subbasement. More than 40 floors down and likely already crawling with intruders. Charming.

The first armored man she encountered, she fired instantly, aiming for the vulnerable points she'd determined in the joints of the armor. Without hesitation, she stepped past him and continued on her way down to find Marcelo's father.

The Purifier who Sage dropped cried out in pain as she shot at the vulnerable joints of the armour, but it didn't take long before another had rounded the corner to where she was, firing a flashbang grenade first, creating a blinding and deafening cacophony of sound. One that the armour protected it against. It would then open fire with its machine gun.

As for Vargas himself, he simply waited, listening with deafened ears as Luiza's screams died away into anguished sobs. It was unfortunate, of course, to orphan children, but perhaps without their cursed mother around, they could find the light. In any case, God would provide for them, or not. It was up to Him and not Vargas. He knew, though, that she was beyond medical help of any sort at this point.

He'd become deeply, deeply familiar with the progression of death through bleeding out. She would cling to life a little longer, yes, but death, and the judgement of God would come to her. He knew Marcelo was coming closer. He could hear the man now. He readied his blade for the arrival of the man. The Brethren wanted the man alive, of course, but they hadn't specified in which condition that would be. And if Marcelo's father was in the building, how much did it really matter that the son was alive?

Perhaps as a negotiating chip ... in any case, he would be here soon.

Marcelo moved quickly but carefully down the hallway. He pulled up short when he saw the man with a sword. He looked exactly how Stephanie described Vargas.

The Brazilian swallowed until he looked down at the sobbing woman at his feet. Luiza!

Blood everywhere. She's wasn't... she wasn't...

Marcelo expression hardened. "Come merda e vai pro inferno."

He yanked the pin out of the extinguisher. "You tortured the wrong women, Cagalhão"

Vargas smiled mirthlessly as Marcelo walked in, at the precise moment that Luiza stopped making any sort of noise and lapsed into unconsciousness, which would be swiftly followed by death.

"Un destino más probable para usted, malhechor. Dues vult." And then he started to move, fast enough to break the sound barrier and create a sonic boom, slipping behind Marcelo. If he so much as touched the man moving that fast, he'd probably snap him in half. But on the other hand, he'd gone behind the Brazilian, most likely, faster than his eye could perceive.

He came to a dead halt, and as far as his strength was went, reached out to practically tap Marcelo between the shoulder blades, as if playing tag. No one said he could not enjoy himself a little before taking out the boy.

Marcelo blinked at the man not being in front of him. He grit his teeth at the touch between his shoulder blades.

Rather than turn his body around, he just moved his hand slightly to aim the nozzle of the fire extinguisher behind him. He pressed the trigger to send ammonium phosphate dry chemical behind him and toward Vargas' face.

Toying with Marcelo was probably a mistake. And fast as he was, Marcelo had genuinely surprised him. He couldn't help but cry out in pain as the chemical sprayed into his face, burning all the way. It wouldn't take long before he would recover, but it would give Marcelo some time to flee, if he was wise enough to do so.

Provided he was capable of dodging a flailing, but still incredibly fast and strong hand reaching out towards him.

The Brazilian man was not going to stand around to be caught and beat. At the pained cry, he sent another spray in that direction, hoping Vargas would choke on the stuff. Then he lunged forward, diving over Luiza's body and rolling to his feet.

He dropped the fire extinguisher and sprinted down the hall. He turned on his silence powers and wrapped them around himself. He needed to get upstairs. He knew every experiment in the works in his building. He needed in the labs to have a chance of living until help arrived.

Edited 2013-08-25 03:42 (UTC)

You bloody fool, you let yourself get caught up in that. Vargas hacked up a blob of bloody something, blinking burned eyes ferociously. It would take only a minute or so for his sight to start returning properly, but that would be time wasted. He did his best to ignore the pain, both the pain of the burning substance, so he could focus on using his other senses.

And ... there was nothing to be heard. Nothing. He'd have to rely on the genetic scanner he had before, which could give him a broad sense of where Marcelo was, but not as precise as his senses could. He leapt back in action, brandishing his blade and looking to find Marcelo.

Having a say in the building remodel and knowing where to skulk when he needed to go out as Vesper during the day mean Marcelo knew the best ways to get around unseen. He kept his silence up and manipulated the sound waves so he could hear around the silence. He slipped through a supply closet and around a corner to get to a staircase.

He did not want to run into any of Vargas' lackeys if he could help it. He needed to get up through HR and then he could scramble through labs. They didn't make weapons here, but that didn't mean he couldn't use the unexpected as weapons.

Vargas' eyes were quickly healing from the chemical in them. However, Marcelo seemed to go completely silent and he hadn't had enough experience with using scent-based tracking to do that, which meant he was reliant on the electronic tracker. So he went after Marcelo, with less knowledge of the building but a greater willingness to simply tear it apart as necessary.

He was gaining on Marcelo, and this time he would not play any games. His sword was already out, still stained with the woman's blood. It would soon taste a man's blood ...

As Marcelo scrambled through stairwells and offices to get to the labs, he swung through a supply room. He grabbed a roll of packing tape and shoved it into his pants pocket. It wasn't duct tape, but it would do. He didn't stay long in the room and kept moving.

He caught a glance of his high tech phone wrapped around his wrist. He hollowed out the silence around him as he kept moving.

He grabbed the phone off his wrist and bent it into shape to make a call. He hit speed dial with his thumb as he checked over his shoulder.

Never in his life had he prayed to get Stephanie's voicemail. If she couldn't ask him questions, he could just say what he needed to. He needed to leave her one last message. He didn't think this was going to go his way.

Unfortunately for Marcelo, he caught Stephanie during a break from work and she promptly picked up the phone.

"Marcelo, mi amor, I was just thinking about you ..." Stephanie's sultry smile was evident in the phone. She then laughed slightly. "Here I am, when you've probably phoned me to cancel dinner tonight because you have a late meeting or something."

"Bosta," he said reflexively. He would have stopped in his tracks had he not been fleeing into the labs for his life. There was no time for that. Or reflecting how he seemed to have terrible luck with Stephanie and phone calls.

"S-Stephanie? Stay at work. You're safe there. He can't possibly get to you there." He stumbled over the words a bit.

"... who? Marcelo, what is happening." There wasn't even a note of a question in it. She reached towards the secure phone she held, that would go straight to Rachel's office and to the X-Men. Sage might have already contacted them, but be damned if she wasn't going to try as well.

"Vargas. He's here. And very angry at me." And possibly right behind him. Marcelo wasn't going to look back; he was going to move faster. Or as fast as he could holding a phone to his face.

"Stay there, Stephanie. I love you."

"Stay safe, Marcelo. I love you too." He knew he wanted her to stay there, where she was safe. But she couldn't. There was no way that she would permit such a thing to happen.

She made two calls, firstly to the X-Men at the Mansion, outlining the situation as best she could, given her limited intelligence. And then she made the same call to an extremely secretive line in the Hellfire Club.

Perhaps she could get assistance of some sort from there as well. She wasn't about to turn down anyone who could help out the man she loved. Anyone at all, even if it was Sinister.

Stephanie didn't care. He was non-negotiable.

The next thing she did was punch the wall as hard as she could, until her knuckles started to bleed and the adrenaline-like rush of kinetic energy felt like it was ready to explode.

Marcelo grimaced as he disconnected the phone. Actually talking to Stephanie meant she was much less likely to listen to him. The realization he probably just doomed her sat like a boulder in his stomach.

Also, he wasn't likely to stay safe with a crazed swordsman chasing after him.

He put his phone back on his wrist and headed toward a cabinet. He didn't manage to get to the floor he wanted, but he had a good idea his time was running out. He hoped the labs had something he could use. Outside of the chemicals and substances locked in the cabinet. He didn't know the lab code to get into it, but he did remember his own override code.

He tried to keep his hands steady as he punched in the numbers.

Unfortunately, even the slightest pause allowed Vargas to advance onto Marcelo, and while his silence barrier meant he was a little harder to find, it was only a matter of time. This time, however, he declined to play any games.

He didn't want Marcelo dead, but he wanted him disabled and left while he attended to any further opposition. It would be a simple matter, to, with a swift movement, slide one of his blades through the man and into the wall below, in such a way that he would be able to live for hours if need be.

When it was all over, he could retrieve Marcelo and the Brethren could decide whether to treat his wounds or allow him to die.

"An impressive trick with the extinguisher, friend. But one you will not be able to repeat."

The blade slid forwards, faster than Marcelo could possibly react against.

Marcelo had just gotten the lock off and started to open the door when he heard Vargas behind him. He didn't have time to tense up before he had a sword blade erupt out of his chest.

The shock of it kept him from really feeling it. He blinked down at the sharp metal piercing his torso.

"Well, fuck." This was entirely not how he figured he would die. Swords were not bullets. And it was the wrong reason, too.

"The wound is not mortal." Vargas replied smoothly. "Not for some hours, unless you are fool enough to attempt to remove it. Now ... to finish my work here." Vargas smirked slightly and drew another, significantly shorter blade from his back.

"I believe your harlot will be coming soon to avenge you. Perhaps I can make her scream again, only this time you will be able to hear it ..." He sneered and stuck the blade in deeper, so only the crossbar and handle of the blade stuck out of his back, the rest of the blade sunk deep into the cabinet and the wall.

"You should not have betrayed your kind. But in the end, we are all in the judging hands of the Lord. Pray, traitor, if the pain will permit you."

And with that, he was gone.

"At least I'm not a righteous zealot fucktard with nobody to love him," Marcelo mumbled. He gurgled a bit at the sword being shoved more through his body. He looked down at the bloody metal in front of him.

He'd failed. He's failed Stephanie. He'd failed Luiza. He probably failed his father. He swiped at his eyes as he tried to ignore the blood oozing out around the blade.

He numbly flicked a finger against the blade holding him in place. This is probably what he deserved for getting Luiza killed. The woman he had begged to come with him to America so he could have at least one friendly face as he set up operations. The woman who watched over him like a mother.

He swallowed and ignored the pain. It was easy to do since he hadn't felt much of it yet. He looked into the cabinet and at where the sword went through the cabinet. He wished he studied chemistry better. Just he knew these reactions better. But vengeance had always been more important. And more hollow.

He reached out with arms and hands that felt heavy and started moving beakers and bottles of chemicals up to the next shelf. He may not of been entirely chemistry savvy, but he understood what acids did. And he saw some hydrofluoric acid because someone was nice enough to write it out and put little skulls around the name.

He would work on moving the chemicals except the acid. Then he would dig around the cabinet for protective gear.

Marcelo would try the acid on the sword blade a bit away from his body. If that didn't work, he would us it on the back of the cabinet and the wall.

He had to try something. Even if he felt his worth diminishing the longer he lived and Luiza didn't.

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