Logs:The Objective

The Objective
cn: blood/violence/death
Dramatis Personae Tony Stark, The Winter Soldier
In Absentia	2019-11-09 "{I am sure that it will make for a spectacular show.}"
Location <VEN> El Ávila - Caracas
It's a mild spring day in Caracas, the sun shining weakly through clouds that have all day threatened rain. A glossy black limousine makes its leisurely way up out of Caracas, leaving behind the towering skyscrapers of La Candelaria and headed for the majestic green slopes of El Ávila to the north. Some distance hence, the tall spire of the luxurious hotel Humboldt play host to many of the city's most wealthy and illustrious visitors. Indeed, one of those paragons of modern nobility is riding in the plush passenger compartment of that very limousine, though it is at present headed not to his comfortable lodgings, but into the beautiful national park surrounding it. Beside Tony Stark, a rotund middle-aged man in a sharply tailored black suit is, despite his nickname, looking distinctly stone-faced, his hands braced on his knees in a stiff manner that suggests he'd rather have them crossed over his chest. Across from them are a pair of distinguished looking gentlemen in Venezuelan military dress uniform. The older one, with steely gray hair and a blocky mustache, wears the insignia of General de Brigada, while the younger one, bald and with naturally deep-set eyes that make him look as though he is always glowering, bears the rank of Coronel. The brigadier general is speaking, his English awkward and heavily accented with his native Spanish. "Mister Stark, you must know that our president, he has tremendous respect for you -- your company, your ah, armaments -- and it is out of no disrespect that he requests this...demonstration. Surely it is a -- how you say? -- opportunity, yes!" Tony himself is dressed in grey, sleek and elegant. One hand rests on his knee, the other up by one of the limo's tinted windows. "{Please,}" his Spanish comes easily, though, too, with its own American accent. The hand he holds up might be intended to forestall further apology, "{Do you think I ever miss an opportunity to watch things blow up? Don't worry. I'll make it worth your while.}" Somewhere down the road, the Soldier waits. There is a certain discomfort to it; the uniform and mask are cloying in the humidity. Hair sticks to the Soldier's face where it is exposed. The handlers talk in his ear, feeding him information in Russian, but there is no command to move. "{Objective is approaching target location, with others. They are acceptable collateral damage. Wait for the signal.}" The last command is. Grating. The Soldier lingers on that as he kneels, loads a grenade into a launcher. The name on the launcher is also grating. He knows it is the same name as the Objective, but The Soldier does not know why it rubs harshly at his mind. If the handlers have not told him, it is not important. Weapon loaded, he stands again. Continues to wait. The colonel perks up when Tony switches to Spanish, relieved, perhaps, not to have to strain his English -- which, when he'd used it earlier in greeting their guest, had not been easy to comprehend. "{The test range is fully prepared to the specifications your people have sent us, Mister Stark. I am sure that it will make for a spectacular show.}" The general laughs, slapping his knee. "{Young men!}" he exclaims, shaking his head fondly. "{Always so focused on the spectacle! Well, you are allowed to enjoy the show as long as we also get a technical assessment out of it, Manny. Mister Stark is also here to make a sale, no?}" Beside Tony, Happy Hogan remains quiet. Perhaps to fend off boredom, or perhaps to keep his eyes from rolling, he turns his gaze out the window at the rolling green countryside. "{Full technical specifications,}" Tony assures the general. "{Flashy bodywork is part of the fun but it's what's under the hood that'll blow you away.}" "идти." The Soldier moves as soon as the order comes through, stalking to the middle of the road. As planned, the only car in sight is the one carrying the Objective. Sunlight flashes off of the bulletproof glass of the Soldier's dark goggles, the bright metal of his arm, as he takes his position. Aims at the rapidly approaching vehicle. The grenade launcher fires with a hollow crack, sending a disc-shaped grenade skittering along the asphalt. It seems up jump as the limo drives over it, magnetically connecting-- the resulting explosion is much louder than the shot had been. The shockwave hits the Soldier in the chest. He does little more than move out of the way of the wreckage. If Tony's military companions had any reply, Tony never gets to hear it. His final words are followed by the crack-thunk of the grenade attaching to the car. And then, much more deafening, the roar of the explosion. The limo flips over -- more than once -- crashes upside-down and mangled into the bush alongside the road. Flung from the blown-open doors, the bloody and mangled body of the general doesn't look like it's about to get up soon -- or ever. The colonel, groaning but still faintly moving, is trying to extricate himself from the twisted metal where the roof has crunched down on his leg. Happy -- the only one here actually strapped into his seatbelt -- has fared better than the officers, battered and unconscious but not seemingly too maimed. Tony himself is still mobile -- sharp grey suit spattered with blood, some of which might be his. As the flames crackle around the front of the vehicle, he's working to extricate Happy from the seatbelt. Kind of fumbling with slick red hands at the other man's seatbelt to unhitch it. Very slowly start dragging the larger man out of the shattered rear window. As soon as the remains of the limo settle in place, the Soldier starts his true task. Letting the launcher drop to the road with a metallic clatter, he advances on the wreckage and draws the SIG-Sauer from its holster on his thigh. The Soldier only spares the corpse of a general a glance before stepping over him. Eliminate any obstacles. Secure the Objective alive. Return to the handlers. Already, black vans dot the horizon down the road. The first obstacle: the colonel in the wreckage. The colonel has still been struggling -- there's more blood, more quiet tearing as he tries to tug his leg free of the wreckage. His eyes widen at the approach of the masked Soldier, and he tugs an H&K MP5 from where it's been dislodged from his side to fall against the roof. He braces it awkwardly -- still, for all his fumbling and the unnatural angle he's stuck at, his aim isn't all that off when he pulls the trigger and starts a rat-tat-tat report of rapidfire bullets. Tony's eyes widen. He grunts, tugging harder to drag Happy free of the wreckage before worming his way back in the window. His teeth are gritted hard as he attempts to crawl back toward where the colonel is stuck. The Soldier raises his metal hand to deflect the bullets, feels the impact and ricochet of them but no pain to go with it. There is, in the back of his mind, a sense of annoyance that is as unimportant as the body behind him. Waiting for the first available pause in the spray of bullets, the Soldier raises the SIG to fire a single shot through the colonel's face. First obstacle eliminated. There is a single second of looking at the Objective, crawling in the dirt--not currently a threat-- before the Soldier moves toward Happy's still form. "No -- no, no." Tony's voice is strained through gritted teeth as he reaches the side of the car. The first no comes just before the Soldier shoots the colonel. He mumbles a quiet apology to the dead man before reaching in, prying the gun from the dead man's hand. His attempt at putting on a burst of speed only takes him so far at his crawling pace, trying desperately to get back towards Happy -- though certainly the Soldier will beat him there. "Hey -- hey. What do you -- do you want with him, you can't want him." As he nears the back of the car again he braces the gun against the ground -- it slips down in his bleeding and injured grip. Tries to steady it again, aiming up far above Happy's inert form and toward the Soldier. Grimaces as his first burst of shot goes very high. The Soldier ignores the Objective speaking, continuing towards Happy with unhurried steps. He reaches the unconscious bodyguard just as the shots fly above his head. It doesn't take more than a look at the bleeding head wound, the labored breathing to know the man is unconscious, possibly permanently so without medical attention. Not a threat. Pulling a knife out, the Soldier turns and throws it at the Objective's gun-wielding hand, before starting back toward him. Tony has just been readjusting his shot when the knife crunches into the back of his hand. The noise that comes out of him is strangled. The gun falls from his hand and he backs away, scooting farther from happy as the Soldier advances. "That's right you Hannibal Lecter-looking freak," he's muttering, more to himself than to the Soldier. His determined retreat doesn't last long before his strength begins flagging. Teeth gritted against his blood loss, he still tries to drag himself back in a last-ditch attempt to lead the Soldier further from Happy. Non-lethal parameters are proving to be more annoying and more difficult than expected. Kicking the MP5 away, the Soldier closes the distance between himself and the Objective in a few steps. Take him alive. Reaching out with his metal arm, the Soldier clamps his hand around the Objective's throat, pressing the carotid artery closed. The black vans have nearly arrived. The handlers will not want to wait. Tony has pried the knife out of his hands by the time the Soldier nears. The swing of his hand in reaction to the hard fingers closing around his neck is reflexive, really. Stabbing the blade swiftly downward -- it's only after it clanks against the metal that the futility of this seems to hit him. Or maybe it's the hypoxia. Either way, his hand is dropping, the knife tumbling out of his grip. Whatever he tries to say here comes out largely strained and inaudible, but in the seconds before his world goes black the tail end of his sentence sounds a lot like "Bite me."