Kill-Team: Take two!
 

Shade's car grumbled to a stop outside of the building. "Two retailers. One in China, one here in the U.S.A." He reached under the seat and pulled out his long combat knife.

"Shall we?" Both him and Brad opened the doors and stepped out. Shade took off his sunglasses and tucked them in his suit pocket. Shad's bike ground to a stop behind them.

"Dammit, speed limits are there for a reason you know!" Shade shrugged as Shad got the helmet off, and came after them.


***
Wolf looked at the radar. Almost there...except. There were two bloops coming up on the radar. Fast. He snap-rolled and glided out to the right as a pair of F-16 falcons shot by.

"Oh fuck it!"

"Attention unknown fightercraft, you are ordered to proceed to these coordinates for landing on the USS George Washington. Once there you will surrender yourself and your fightercraft!"

"Fat chance." Wolf said as he jinked and barrel rolled the F-14, denying his pursuers a solid missile lock.

"Any way we can get rid of them?" Henna asked

"Doubtful. I don't have any Sidewinders, and even if I did, you don't exactly look like a RIO to me. All I have is the 20 mm gun in the nose. Besides, these guys are USAF and USN, I don't want to shoot them down if I don't have to. Time for Plan B"

Wolf snap rolled the Tomcat into a steep dive, barrelling towards the aircraft carrier. The F-16s followed closely. Wolf buzzed the carrier's control tower and then went into a high-g 180 degree turn. One of the Falcons almost hit the tower, the other flew over it. Wolf got behind one of the Falcons, and fired some warning shots with the gun, a couple bullets hitting the F-16's tail fin.

"Shit! This guy's crazy! I think we should just let him go!

"I agree...although I hate to admit it. This is Bravo-1 to unknown fighter craft, this isn't over."

The fighters banked away, and Wolf continued on course to China, undisturbed.

Brad reached inside his pocket and folded his hands around his CQC-6.

"Let's ruin somebody's day..." he muttered to nobody in particular.

Shade walked in and said over cheefully, "Hi, can I talk to your manager?" He neatly came the knife behind his back as he was ushered into a room.

"Hi, I'm with the federal business bureau of dealing with terrorists."

"We don't know anything about any terrorits."

"Your records say differently. That your computer? You won't mind if we take a look in it, would you?"

The man gestured to someone behind Shade and said, "We don't know anything about terrorists."

"I'm sure the comp will say differently." Then he kicked straight back, catching someone in the gut, spun, and smacked them across the face with the sheathed knife, spun and elbowed him in the gut hard. He caught both arms, crossed them, and drove the man against a wall.

With a flick of his thumb, an inch of the blade was exposed. This was put to the man's jugular. Shade didn't slash yet, but he said to Shad, "Check the comp. Brad? Manager's yours. If he keeps denying stuff we find, show him bits of pain."

"Gladly."

He gave the manager an open-handed blow across the face, then while he was stunned Brad shoved him roughly down onto the chair and bound the manager's hands behind him with flexi-cuffs. As he circled out front again from behind the manager, he slipped on a pair of brass knuckledusters.

Brad cut the manager's shirt open and began grinding the brass knucks down the center of the luckless man's sternum, eliciting howls of pain from the manager.

"This is nothing compared to what I can do if I'm serious about inflicting pain. I want answers. Now. Where is the gas?"

The manager mumbled, "I don't know about no gas! Really!"

Shad called out from the comp, "Wow. Fat-ass checks been comin' in for about 5 weeks now."

O.C.C. I have no idea whats going on anymore.

Henna enjoyed the temproary acrobatics show.
"That was close"

"Wrong answer, asshole."

Brad balled his fists up and gave him a left jab to the exact same spot he had been grinding for the past few minutes. The manager would have doubled up in pain had his hands not been secured behind him by the chair.

Without waiting for a reply, Brad dealt him three more swift blows, one after the other, right on top of where he had hit the first time. The bound man convulsed, his eyes screwed shut in agony.

Brad grabbed the manager's lolling head by his thinning hair.

"Open. Your. Eyes."

The manager complied.

"Where did you ship the nerve gas to? It couldn't have been that hard to notice - bright red metal drums sealed in Russian military containers, with the words "опасность отрава" emblazoned in yellow across the front. I'll bet you personally supervise the loading of important shipments, and judging by the cash you were receiving... it must have been pretty damn important. So tell me - where did it go?"

Kalland returned to the groups base of operations and wandered upstairs, Lunch in hand and sat down in front of the TV and ate like it was his last meal.

Tor reached the University to talk with one of his old friends... thaqt is his only friend who knew anything about bio chemistry.
-Yo Fred you there?
A small man walked towards Tor
-What do you want Tor, you never come here for no reason
Tor smiled towards Fred and laughed
-Yeah your right my friend I always ask for something dont I? Well this time I need some information... Do you know anything about stolen nervegas, you know the one that was used by those terorists?
Fred flinced
-Whaat? Why would I know anything about that, you know me.
Tor smiled again, but it was not one of those nice friendly smiles he usualy came up with
-Yes I know you, and that is the reason why I ask... I know you didn't have anything to do with it and that you dont have any of it, but you do know where it's from and what type of gas it is so you better start talking, or we won't be friends any more no would we...? So tell me what you know, and we'll take a beer afterwards with my mates or... yeah you know