"EVERYONE! COVER ADEM!"
Drake Marshall may have been a decent field leader. But, as the members of the holographic Vanguard quickly learned, Marshall was anything but subtle. Something that now definitely worked to their advantage...
Grimm, still fighting Lady Lykopis, turned quickly as the alien detective known as Adem Different sprinted past him. Tightening his grip on his axe, he began to pursue the badly-dressed runner, trying to snag the flag and end this once and for all.
A sudden kick to the middle of the back felled the avatar as the graceful and deadly Lykopis kicked him over onto his back, facing her. "Where are you going so soon?" she sneered. "I have spent my entire life trying to escape your touch... and now that I have you in my sights, I will not let you out of them so easily. Not without having my vengeance for my fallen sisters."
Grimm's hollow sockets gazed into Lykopis', soaking up the intensity and passion. But, as the Avatar of Death, Grimm noticed something different. Something hidden beyond the rough exterior. Fear. Since the fall of the Amazons, this fear had haunted this woman. And now, she sought to eradicate Death itself in order that she may simply live.
If Grimm had the capacity, he would have smiled to have found such a worthy opponent. He swung his axe, which found itself blocked by Lykopis' sword. The battle continued...
...and Adem ran on.
"You knocked the wind out of me," Phouka said, recovering slightly, "but don't expect me to go without a fight..."
The ground directly below Drake Marshall turned suddenly to quicksand, as the vigilante formerly known as Nightwatch found himself sinking into the ground itself. Smiling, Phouka blew on the smoking gun that was his forefinger. "Can't believe that worked," he said with a hint of relief.
Marhsall continued sinking right in front of Phouka, who was ready in case the field leader of Vanguard Europe should try to make a break for it.
Still, Marshall thought, I should keep his attention off of Adem for the time being. The flag is safe... from Phouka anyway...
...and Adem ran on.
Meanwhile, below ground, Adem's sprint went almost unnoticed...
"Oh, bloody 'ell..." Grissom groaned, firing off a few shots at the darkness around him. At least, he was pretty sure it was darkness. It was hard telling, considering the former mercenary couldn't see his hand in front of his face. "Why not c'me out 'ere an' fight like a man 'stead o' playin' these 'shadowgames'?" Griss asked, beginning to get annoyed.
"Very well," a clipped British voice resounded, seeming to come from everywhere at once. As suddenly as it had come upon him, the darkness subsided and, in it's place stood the interior of the hole Grissom Montag had dug for himself in pursuit of the European branch's flag. Just in front of the merc, however, stood a large man dressed all in black. Grissom raised an eyebrow, no longer as impressed as he might've been under different circumstances.
"Well, tall, dark an' imposin'..." Grissom began, 'porting a new round of bullets into his gun, "...you know mine. Let's 'ear yours..."
"Edmund Gaunt," the figure said stoicly. "Paranormal investigator. Shadow Chancellor."
Grissom laughed a bit. "I dunno who your agent is, but tell 'im 'e needs to find you a less laughable moniker, mate!"
Suddenly, shadow tendrils reached up from Grissom's own shadow and began wrapping themselves around the limey's body. "Wot's all this, eh?" he said, struggling in vain with the bonds that held him.
"Judging from your particular abilities," Gaunt began, "it behooves me to restrain you here, rather than have you on the field where you can not retrieve our flag. Consider yourself neutralized, Mr. Montag. Good day."
And, with that, the Shadow Chancellor was gone.
"Yeah, well, we'll just see 'bout that, bucko!" Montag muttered, teleporting a small pen light into his hand...
...and Adem ran on.
Immediately after having collided with Danny, Baxter had attempted to immobilize the animorph in the best way he knew how - boxing his lights out. A quick one-two had Danny weak and disoriented enough to not be able to race after Adem Different...
...but, rather, it put him in defense mode as the field leader of Vanguard International saw fit to call upon an insect exoskeleton. Now, Ozzy was hammering away at what was now Danny's thorax, hoping beyond hope that he could crack through the time-lost Vanguardian's defenses.
"C'mon, you bastard," Ozzy muttered through clenched teeth. "Break...!"
"Not likely," came a discombobulated response from inside Danny's exoskeletal 'helmut'. And, unfortunately for Ozzy, that's not the only emission that came from within. Shortly after the exchange of dialogue, a fine spray of ink shot into the boxer's eyes, blinding him.
Ozzy howled in surprise, wiping furiously at the obstruction in his eyes. Suddenly, a scorpion tail formed at Danny's backside, preparing to strike at the boxer's now weakened state.
The stinger struck true... but Danny was surprised to see that it didn't do any damage at all. Still blind, Ozzy grunted, grabbing the tail in his arms... and beginning to spin the Animal Man around in the air, gaining velocity.
"Teach you to blind me," Baxter said, attempting to gain momentum...
...and Adem ran on.
...but he did not run unnoticed. Through the crosshairs of his rifle, Dirk Bell followed the alien as he sprinted across the field, the flag of Vanguard Europe tucked safely within his clothing.
"And now for one of my favorite games," Bell muttered under his breath, loading more ammo into his gun, "'Smear the Queer'..."
That's when it hit him... literally.
Icarus Sidewinder fell out of the sky, punching Bell in the jaw and rocketing off into the sky again.
"SON OF A BITCH!" Bell yelled as he quickly regained his composure and took aim again... this time at the self-proclaimed hotshot of Vanguard Europe.
Bell had been shooting at Icarus through most of the game so far and Icarus, the (again) self-proclaimed 'best pilot in Europe' had been able to dodge his bullets with ease. Any that had hit him hadn't done damage, due to the kevlar polymer flight suit that Icarus wore.
However, that wouldn't make a difference when Dirk broke out the armor-piercing bullets...
...which he just did. A hail of gunfire sounded as Icarus managed to keep just a second or two ahead of the barrage. He tried all sorts of things to shake the the gunslinger - loop-the-loops, barrel rolls, and even complex military flight patterns - but all the same, the steady hand of Dirk Bell kept right on his tail.
Then, Icarus saw it. Adem Different was still running (naturally), but the winged form of Banshee was closing in on him, sword in hand, ready for an attack... having left her lead boots behind her.
Teamwork... Icarus thought to himself. Help the lanky guy guard the flag and prove to everyone that I can do this crap...
Grinning wildly, Icarus took a dive at the racing Adem Different. Swooping between the alien's legs, he hoisted the sleuth into the air and out of immediate harm.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Adem yelled as he suddenly found himself twenty feet in the air and rising.
"Practicing teamwork and saving your ass," Icarus said with a cocky grin. "You can thank me later, Mr. Spock..."
"Are you insane?" Adem asked, looking around. "I could've easily handled Banshee! Now, you've subjected us to the attacks of both her and that guy who was shooting at you. If it's possible, I'm now in more danger than before!"
Sure enough, Dirk's hail of gunfire continued as Banshee soared upwards towards Icarus, her Irish temper showing vividly in her eyes.
"Oh..." Icarus said, the realization suddenly sinking in, "...crap!"
He quickly darted away, Adem in tow, trying to escape not one, but two pursuers from Vanguard International...
...and, more than anything, Adem wished he were still running...
