[b][i]Devil's Due[/i][/b] [b]Clearing Outside of the Dojo, Sunset[/b] [i]Wolfe, Clarkson, and Rose all approached from one side of the open clearing, weapons holstered. On the other side, facing them, Atlas and his commanders, Taipan, Derringer, Whiteout, and Konigstiger, each of which stood armed, aside from Atlas himself. On the ground before him, was a beaten and bruised boy, hands tied behind his back. They stood silently as the group approached them, waiting until they got within ten feet to speak. [/i] Little Western showdown here, huh... [i]Whiteout remarked, cracking his knuckles through his suit.[/i] I gotta admit, you are surprisingly moral considering your past, Nick. Never would've thought you cared about a kid. [i]Atlas chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.[/i] He walks free, you take us. Fair deal? [i]Clarkson said flatly.[/i] The deal was all of you, Nick. I distinctly remember a certain sociopath that I wanted as well. Where's he at? [i]Atlas replied, drawing a handgun, stepping forwards and aiming it at the boy's head.[/i] HAPPY THANKSGIVING YOU F*CK! [i]Shouted Wilson, rushing forth and trucking Atlas, tackling him to the ground and rolling, the man beneath him fighting to get free. As the two fought it out, Rose dropped to the ground, firing on the others with her assault rifle. They scattered, leaving Watcher on the ground. Hearing the gunfire, he flattened himself in the grass, hoping to be spared a bullet. Rose's fire distracted them enough for Wolfe and Crow to take action. Moving rapidly, Crow drew his bo staff, and rushed Derringer, the smaller soldier firing his Bizon PP-19. The small rounds ricocheted off of Clarkson's armor, and he carried on through them, bringing his staff down towards the man. Derringer caught it with his hand, swinging it down and letting his SMG fall to the ground. Throwing the staff left, he punched Crow in the stomach, and the two traded blows. Blocking, Clarkson struck the other man hard in the chest, the staggering him back. Crow cracked him in the side of the head with his staff, sending him off balance and to the ground. Clarkson brought the tip of the staff down with force, an attempt to stab Derringer in the chest, the smaller soldier rolling and standing back up, discharging his pistol at Clarkson's head. Taking the bullets, Crow did stagger a bit, recovering as he was charged by his foe, who wielded a blade. Collapsing his staff, Clarkson drew his own blade, the blades on his gauntlets opening. As Derringer rushed him, he caught the man's knife in his gauntlet blades, twisting his wrist to disarm the man. He followed this with a savage undercut to the man's stomach, sending him reeling. As he recovered, Crow rushed him, and was blocked a few times before he brought the blade up into the man's stomach, wedging it between the armor segments. Twisting the blade, he pushed the man to the ground, and turned to assist his friends. Wolfe had rushed Konigstiger, who returned fire with his MG3, the rounds ricocheting off of Wolfe's chest. As he drew close, he brought his sword down, the German blocking the blow with his gun. However, the tytritium edge cleaved through the weapon easily. Throwing the pieces of metal at his opponent, Konigstiger punched Wolfe in the stomach, ducking the second swing of the sword. Staggering, Jackson was barely able to roll out of the man's second blow. Drawing his revolver, he put two shots into the side of the man's head, staggering him. The German rolled, a tytritium shield forming from his gauntlet as he drew his pistol. Wolfe rushed through the volley of fire, his blade clashing with the energy shield, the two locked together, unable to push each other, until Jackson dropped and knocked Konigstiger off of his feet. Bringing the blade down, he barely missed the man's chest as he rolled, standing up and pulling a knife, grappling for Wolfe's neck. Using the juggernaut's weight, Wolfe rolled onto his back and over the man, standing back up and readying his blade. The German recovered as well, twirling his blade in his hand, facing the Vengeful Son. Shouting, he rushed, and Wolfe caught his arm, flipping him down to the ground, and delivering a savage punch to the man's head, his gauntlet blades out. Drawing them out, he turned, blood dripping from them, looking to Crow. Rose had now taken up her fight with Taipan. The man had drawn an AN-94 Abakan, the weapon going off rapidly. Rose returned fire with her own AUG A3. While his rounds struck her torso, she managed to strike him in the hand, knocking the gun from him. Growling in his anger, he rushed her, and she was unable to flip him. Pinning her, he reared back, a set of syringes popping forwards from the top of his gauntlet. Using her gun, she was barely able to prevent him from jamming them into her neck. Screaming, she slid her other hand out from beneath him, and punched him hard in the helmet, stunning him enough for her to roll him off. As he reached up to grab her and flip her, she stomped on his gauntlet, crushing his syringes. Reaching with his other arm, he grabbed the knife sheathed on her leg, and stabbed her in the ankle joint. Screaming, she fired into his hand, the burst shredding his hand. Shouting, he screamed as she fired into his helmet. Although it didn't break the front of it, she dropped to her knees on the side, and then smashed his helmet with the stock of her rifle, knocking him out. Seeing all of this, Whiteout disappeared, just as Wolfe and Crow moved to engage him. [/i] Sh*t. [i]Crow said, sheathing his knife. In the mean time, Wilson and Atlas were still going at it. After being tackled, Atlas flipped the Courier, a shield forming out of his right gauntlet, and a small weapon opening up out of his left. Recovering at the same time as Wilson, he lowered his stance and braced himself as the Courier unloaded a barrage of rounds, which his shield was doing a good job of deflecting. Raising his left arm, he fired a small anti-armor missile, Wilson taking it in the chest, the explosion sending him back. Atlas approached, laughing. [/i] Come on, big guy! I've heard a lot about you, I want to see if it's true. Oh really? Ok. [i]Wilson said in a disturbingly happy voice.[/i] [i]Firing at Atlas again, he drew his machete, and rushed, trucking the man to the ground again. Rearing back and bringing his machete down, Wilson was blocked by Atlas' shield. Throwing the blade to the side, Wilson punched the shield full-force, his protonic inversion blade out, cutting through the metal. Bringing his hand down, he cut part of the shield off, barely missing the man's fingers. Atlas in turn reared back, and punched the Courier hard in the face, Wilson standing back up, and unloading with the Browning into the man, who rolled after several bullets, standing up and drawing a railgun from his back, charging it only for Wilson to grab hold of the barrel and crush it . Yanking it from the man's hands, Wilson smacked him in the head twice with it, sending Atlas staggering back. Picking up his machete, Wilson approached the stunned man, and grabbed him by the throat, but Atlas kicked him in the chest and jumped free. As he landed, Wilson threw his machete at him, which seemed rather strange. [/i] JESUS CHRIST JUST DIE ALREADY! [i]He shouted.[/i] [i]He set off another barrage with his Browning, Atlas using what remained of his shield to block the bullets. Charging, Wilson put his arm up in front of his chest like a football player, and knocked the man to the ground, quickly pinning him with an armored boot, pushing down, the man's armor creaking as Wilson's weight crushed his exosuit. Kneeling, Wilson drew one of his revolvers, and tossed it in the air, catching it by the barrel. He then proceeded to bash Atlas's helmet in with the grip, and then smash the man's face to a bloody pulp. For a solid two minutes, he wailed on Atlas, blood and bits of flesh spattering his armor and coating his revolver. Standing up, panting, he wiped the gun off on his cloak, and turned to face everyone else except Clarkson and Watcher, as Clarkson had dragged both Taipan and Derringer over to a single place, utilizing a pair of heavy duty cuffs on their wrists to keep them on the ground despite their exosuits. After a moment of silence, Watcher got to his feet, and looked around, mildly stunned at what had just happened before him. [/i] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]