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With a flick of a switch doors slam shut across the entire interior of the apartment. Total interior lockdown. The Client - Verdant Green - trembles with rage at the temerity of the dogs who would yap at his heels. Doesn't they know how hard he works? How much he's sacrificed? He'll never give it up. He'll never give her up.
Agent Fold tries to placate, succour, calm him down, inches a little closer to the override switch. The Client slams the panel that conceals it shut and reaches, instead, for his revolver drawer. They want to play rough? He can play rough.
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Doors are barricaded and things are locked down. Agents Butterfly and Thorn pile some chairs and tables on the kitchen, as Agent Vennsfield squeezes past them, still licking the last nutri-sludge off of his fingers. Unfortunately his progress is impeded by the lockdown procedure.
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Agent Jack'Oal puts his hands up, takes a principled stance on civic responsibility, executes a perfect judo throw, and then stands still in the middle of a lobby surrounded by hostile forces on all sides.
His allies, working overtime, jump into action, slamming a signature mask on him to deter any smartlink locks and marks and make target acquisition much, much harder - at least this way, they might not hit him as well. Others try to jam guns, fry systems, but there's so, so many Red Cranes and so few of us- -- but it might all buy Jack'Oal a second or two more!
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TS Devonshire finds a shotgun, looks a little old, and can't make it to the kitchen because of the lockdown. Damn. Oh well. Back to the work station. So much tech support to do!
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Holographic projections blur into half-life on the hallway, little constructs. They might deter and confuse for a moment. Perhaps it'll be enough...?
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