In order to hear less of the back and forth banter between what he assumed were probably the less intelligent of the group, Badger made sure to hang back just far enough not be able able to distinguish specific words but close enough to still hear if they were talking. Unfortunately for him, that mean having to drop down to street level in order to move consistently enough while keeping them within his line of sight. Moving from car to car slowly he saw the group halt and start looking at what appeared to be an Last Man Battalion soldier, but he was standing too still.
Shit. He had been too focused on tracking his quarry and wasn't paying close enough attention to where he was. They had wandered into familiar territory for him, and that was bad. He had roamed these streets with allies long ago, but they were not so much allies anymore. This was the territory that his former ally Dryce worked in, and that they had hunted together for a long time. Badger sighed slightly, remembering some of the traps and distractions they had set up together in order to pincer their victims, and ensure victory through flanking tactics and other unsavory methods. IT wasn't flashy or honorable always, but at this point where worked was good enough for him. He knew that soldier, hell he had help set it up. The LMB soldier was a ruse to draw fire and be used as a distraction, or a trap so he would be able to take out anyone who was halted by it, even if only for a moment. Here he saw it worked, as their attention was seemingly fully focused on it. This could be his chance, but only if he moved fast. A rusted, partially frozen over street vendor cart was near by and Badger decided that it was his only chance. He climbed up top and took aim on the precarious position, ignoring the creaking and groaning of the metal. The familiar weight of the rifle rested on his elbow as he drew in his breath and took aim at his victim, aiming directly between the shoulder blades. He slowly began to exhale, gently squeezing the trigger - feeling the resistance of the trigger grow. Badger felt his footing start to give way and reflexively his hands tightened to brace for impact. His finger tightened around the trigger as he began to fall sending his shot off wildly as he crashed down onto the metal. He felt a burning sensation in his left shoulder, followed by wetness. He glanced down and saw that his upper left arm was lacerated by the rusted shards of metal. So much for hunting these guys. Gingerly slinging the rifle over his right shoulder Badger started taking off down the street, looking for the nearest shelter so he could properly asses the damage he took, and if he was lucky maybe prevent himself from losing the arm to an infection.
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A resounding crack broke the stillness of the morning air, and a thump was heard. Or would have been heard if anyone was close enough to hear it. However the shooter made sure to wait until his target was away from anyone else. Throwing his zip line over the edge, he made sure it was securely fastened to the nearby pipe. When he reached the bottom the fresh snowfall crunched under his boots, and he cursed silently. He moved to search the body, but found little of use. A couple of energy bars and one bottle of water. Not worth the bullet, but there was no way to tell beforehand what they would have had on them. Using the butt of his rifle he broke the rear passenger window of a nearby car and tossed the body inside. He climbed back up his rope, untied it, and stored it back inside his backpack. He proceeded back into a nearby window and his makeshift camp and took his rifle apart to start cleaning it.
Cleaning a weapon is always a rejuvenating experience, and the Division agent who went by the nickname Badger enjoyed making sure all the residue was removed to ensure that every shot landed exactly where he wanted it to. As he finished cleaning up his rifle, he heard the distant sound of yelling and explosions. Without much interest in the usual background noise of the city he put his rifle back together with a satisfying snap and put his cleaning kit away. He flipped the indicator switch to safe, put a mag into the rifle, and smacked the mag to make sure it was secure in its seat. In the distance Badger heard the collapse of a building and then silence. He quickly secured his gear strewn about the room, then proceeded to a window and listened for a moment - and was rewarded with the sound of footsteps and the sound of conversation. Suddenly a single shot rang out and the conversation was silenced. Perhaps today would be his lucky day, and he would be to loot another body without to spend any ammo. A third voice yelled out to the previous two, and with his curiosity peaked Badger slung his rifle over his shoulder, hopped out of the window onto a nearby rooftop, and proceeded to investigate. Without much noise he lost the trail, but luckily for him soon overwhelming gunfire rang out to lead him closer to his quarry. To his distain the usual fog started to settle in and limited his visual range, working against him as he remained on the roof. He paused again to listen for sound, and once again heard a fourth voice enter the conversation. This was turning into quite a gathering, and would probably be worth his time to trail this entourage. Laughter filled the air from a fifth source, and Badger started to roll his eyes. This may be more trouble than it would be worth but people died quickly now days, and he was sure his persistence in trailing these guys would pay off. Continuing to listen in he heard mention of a sixth member that hadn't made any sound yet. A full party, and a good challenge to try and pick them off one at a time. |
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April 2018
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