Strike-Team

Exodus rocketed through the skies, the wind rushing past him and glancing off his blue helmet as he crashed into the water. All was silent as the large warship cut through the waves, unknown that the figure in the deep blue suit was now scaling the side of the ship, his hands slippery as he dug his hands into the heavily dented metal, finding nooks and crannies to jam his fists and feet. He reached above him, grasped the railing at the side of the ship and hauled himself up. He rolled onto the smooth deck, stood, and then pressed himself against the nearest wall as a search beam gently passed nearby. When he was sure it had, he emerged from the shadows and quietly rounded the corner. Two mercenaries' came around the other corner, stopping dead when they saw Exodus charging towards them, a blue helmet covering his face.

Exodus jumped up and kicked one in the stomach, watching him fall and smash his head against the ground as the second raised his rifle. Exodus snapped his hand forward, grabbed the rifle, delivered a kneecap to their stomach before flipping them over his shoulder. The mercenary hit the ground with a thud, and Exodus slowly rose, holding the rifle in both hands before proceeding onward, holding the rifle out in front of him. Exodus knew where he was headed, ducking again into the shadows as yet another search beam passed, and then advancing when it didn't spot him. More movement ahead, and Exodus raised the rifle carefully. Six mercenaries were patrolling ahead, unknowingly walking directly at Exodus. Exodus took a deep breath, and stepped out the shadows, the rifle calmly raised. The six men stopped, clearly surprised, and Exodus pressed his finger tightly to the trigger.

Bullets sprayed as the gun flashed with each bang, and the men fell almost instantly. Exodus heard shouting from below, and more running footsteps. Exodus looked around, saw the metal door to his right, and ducked inside, letting it slide shut behind him. He turned, tossing the rifle aside, and stopped in his tracks. He appeared to have broken into a break room, because several mercenaries were stood and staring at Exodus, their eyes wide in surprise. Exodus raised a hand to halt them as one moved forward, then reached to the side, picked up a cup of coffee that had just been abandoned, and drank half of it. Then, he shrugged, and took a step towards them. A mercenary charged, quickly accompanied by the other three. Exodus dodged a punch, raised the cup, and smashed it against the mercenaries' head.

The mercenary crumpled, and Exodus kicked forward, striking another in the chest. The other two began punching and kicking wildly, hoping to land a hit against Exodus. They did not. Exodus parried and blocked the hits before grasping one and tossing him into the wall, watching him fall unconscious as the final one advanced. Exodus parried a blow, grasped the arm, turned, and swung the mercenary through the air, watching him smash into a coffee table in the centre of the room with an incredible crash. Exodus looked around the room, making sure that the mercenaries' were all taken care of before crouching near the door. He heard running footsteps on the other side, and then they faded into the distance. Exodus nodded to himself, grasped the handle of the door and slid it open. Outside was deserted as he crept along the steel deck.

His red boots seemed to muffle his footfalls as he stepped along, and then gunfire erupted down below. Exodus took a glance over the side, and grinned. It was the strike-team, here as backup while he led the mission, running over the main deck below with their rifles raised, firing upon the mercenaries. Exodus began headed up a flight of metal steps nearby, towards the main control room. His mission was there. As he reached the top, something hard rammed into him. Exodus lost his balance and fell down the steps, bouncing on each one before coming to a stop at the bottom. Panting, he looked up, and there he was. His target. He was roughly Exodus' height, with blonde hair and a strong, lean body, his muscles rippling under his shirt as he snarled. Slowly, Exodus got to his feet, raising his fists, and staring up at the man.

"If you are really meant to be the best, you won't wear that," the man said, indicating toward his own head, and Exodus knew exactly what he meant. He reached up, unclipped the helmet from around his head and dropped it to the ground, where it clanged loudly as it rolled. "Bring it on, then," Exodus said, raising his fists once again and glaring up. The man grinned, and then ran down the flight of steps as Exodus took a step back. The man reached the bottom, grasped the railing, used it to jump into the air and smashed both feet into Exodus' chest. Exodus skidded back, quickly rolling aside as the man came yet again, kicking through the air expertly. The man feigned a punch, spun, and landed a kick across Exodus' face. Exodus stumbled to the side, reaching up and wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.

The man shouted out some kind of war cry and charged yet again, swinging his leg through the air. Exodus did not move, and caught the leg with his left hand, glaring. The man's eyes widened, and Exodus twisted, flipping the man through the air and letting him land face-first on the metal floor. The man flipped to his feet, turned, and Exodus delivered a punch to his face, sending him staggering back with blood dripping from his nose. He seemed too dazed to fight back as Exodus punched again, kneed him in the stomach and shoved him back against the metal railing. The man stumbled forward and swung his fist strongly. Exodus easily blocked the attack, gripped onto the arm tightly and flipped the man. The man landed hard at Exodus' feet, struggling as Exodus' held him in an arm-lock position. "You're going to tell me exactly where to find it," Exodus whispered.

The man chuckled, and then groaned again in pain as Exodus twisted a little harder, threatening to snap his arm. "You want…what I refuse to give," the man murmured, and Exodus twisted harder, knowing that the man could not take it. "It's….in the control room. In the…filing cabinet," the man whispered, and Exodus began releasing him. "It's just too bad you'll never get there," the man hissed, turning, withdrawing a knife with his left hand, and plunging it into Exodus' side. Exodus hissed at the sudden pain, reached out to firmly grab the man's arm, and then he twisted as hard as he could. The man screamed and collapsed to his knees, his left arm hanging limply by his side. Broken or dislocated, although Exodus lacked the ability to care as he leaned back and kicked the man straight in the face.

The man slumped to the side, unconscious, and Exodus looked up to the metal stairs, his right hand over his wound as he scrambled up the steps. He was in the control room in less than a minute and did exactly as the man said. He walked over to the only filing cabinet in the room, and pulled out all the draws, which clattered noisily onto the ground. He stood in the mess of draws and discarded papers before he found what he was looking for. He reached down, and picked the USB from the ground, flipping it between his fingers and staring for several seconds before placing it into a pocket at his waist and walked from the room.