Lindianne's aim is true - Ferro grunts as the first round hits him in the chest, staggering him. A red blotch starts to spread over the suit just in time for the second round to hit, stopping him in his tracks.
He wavers on his feet, issuing one last wheezing breath as he fixes his gaze on Lindianne, fingers slackening on the flamethrower. The shaded lenses on his gas mask hide his eyes, and so it's hard to tell what's going through his mind. Is it regret? Is it remorse?
Maybe, just maybe - it's relief that it's over for him.
The last 7.62 round fired by the PSL tears through the HAZMAT suit like tissue paper and sends Ferro crumpling to the ground like a marionette that's just gotten its strings cut.
All is quiet along the avenue. The surviving Cleaners stare in abject shock and horror as Mother and the other SEALs round the bend.
There's a scuffle, some shouting - then one by one, the Cleaners drop their weapons. One by one, their hands go up.
"Mother, Faye. Mike Charlie. Ferro K.I.A." A soft sigh into the radio. "Good shooting, Parker."
no subject
He wavers on his feet, issuing one last wheezing breath as he fixes his gaze on Lindianne, fingers slackening on the flamethrower. The shaded lenses on his gas mask hide his eyes, and so it's hard to tell what's going through his mind. Is it regret? Is it remorse?
Maybe, just maybe - it's relief that it's over for him.
The last 7.62 round fired by the PSL tears through the HAZMAT suit like tissue paper and sends Ferro crumpling to the ground like a marionette that's just gotten its strings cut.
All is quiet along the avenue. The surviving Cleaners stare in abject shock and horror as Mother and the other SEALs round the bend.
There's a scuffle, some shouting - then one by one, the Cleaners drop their weapons. One by one, their hands go up.
"Mother, Faye. Mike Charlie. Ferro K.I.A." A soft sigh into the radio. "Good shooting, Parker."