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Thanks to the wondrous technology implemented in his headpiece, Jasper would be able to hear every muttered syllable of what went on inside the building.

"So so, Mr. Fancy Pants," muttered the goggled man upstairs to himself while he stepped away from the window to insert another magazine into his rifle. Their new mark had some high quality armor protecting him, and already the man was sizing it up to see if it would fit or not.


The goggled man had taken cover behind one of the building's second story walls in anticipation of Jasper returning fire with those pea shooters he had used against the undead; when his rifle was loaded and no bullets had come his way he peeked out from behind and instead saw their mark messing with a strange multi-colored glowstick.

"Jakob," was all that was amplified by the headset; thrice. It was answered as many times by "Kapitan" a second later.

And the funny little glowstick went sailing through a downstairs window.


-flying awkwardly back out the window end-over-end just before it launched itself at a downward angle into the broken pavement in front of the building rather than into the air. The device detonated, sending its supplementary charges skittering across the street in several directions for an instant before they, too, detonated in a terrific blast.

The remaining zombies, unfortunate as they were already were all the more unfortunate now as a second set of blasts tore apart any that remained out in the street.

While the smoke still hung in the air outside their makeshift bunker, the Captain called down from above.

"Yo cockSUCKer. You aLIVE down 'dere or not?"

Fancy flashing grenades were all well and good, but when thrown into a room filled with hardened men who very much like being alive a long fuse is a liability. The street in front of that two-story building was beginning to look a lot more like a battlefield now with all the holes that had been carved out of it from Jasper's explosives, but when the smoke cleared Jasper was nowhere to be found amidst the scattered corpses in the intersection.

"Izzat a yes then?" laughed the Captain as he pulled back the action on his rifle and loaded the first round into the chamber. No response from the man outside could mean that he was either dead or that he just didn't want to talk; the explosive hadn't landed close enough to be a sure kill, but they had lost track of him afterwards.

He was out there... somewhere.

"Kaptain?" asked the radio.

"Ready up boys," was the answer. "We've got a runna."

There was a ruckus from the downstairs as 'the boys' got their s**t together and threw the mutilated corpses of undead out the door. Scavengers were known for all the different kinds of s**t that they hoarded, not their level of cleanliness.



The rear of the building was as equally fortified as the front; a single door leading in from the alley around back and boards placed over all the windows. There were a few makeshift traps spread about, likely for catching zombies that wandered too close: a tripwire at either end of the alley, a few bear traps scattered around beyond these, and half of a torso dangling upside-down from a rope hung out of a second story window on a building opposite the bunker.

And windows he would see, along with doorways. The windows had been covered and barricaded with boards and other braces to keep the roaming and other scavengers from getting inside, but the door did not seem to be braced at all; likely because it was barricaded from the inside rather than covered with boards and nails. Conveniently enough it was unlocked though.

There would be no way to enter the building's ground floor from the rear without removing a board or two and trying to slip through the opening. The windows on the second floor were notably less fortified, though there were still strings of broken glass and barbed wire hung from the bottom of each window to keep unwanted intruders out. Each of them faced a nearly identical window on the opposite building, which had no fortifications but possibly a few similar traps spaced throughout it.

From the alley he would be able to hear the kind of shifting and moving that was going on inside; even though his headset was already amplifying the voices he would hear little more than a few sentences of internal monologue and Jakob's frivolous cursing. As long as Jasper didn't make any noise or set off any traps though he would remain hidden for the time being.

In another moment the rustling inside the building stopped. A few seconds later the heavily fortified front door opened and shut on the other side of the building as two scavengers stepped outside.

Just as Jasper reached the corner of the building there was a terrifying cry that came from inside. There was a cacophony that followed, the sounds of everything inside being turned over and heavy objects being thrown around, before the back door of the building burst open with a tremendous crash and an enormous man wearing a red-and-black lucha mask barreled straight out of it and directly into the opposite wall. His thick fingers scratched at the mask, rubbing furiously at his eyes and his nose and spitting all over so that the saliva ran from his chin.



The commotion was not something to go unnoticed, though. At that moment at the end of the side-alley that Jasper had headed to emerged another man, with sideburns the like had never been seen upon mortal men and hundred dollar ********! ********' ME's gonna ********' ******** had arrived.

In the middle of an absurdly hyphenated '********' Jakob took two to the chest... and then several more. Just how many bullets Jasper managed to squeeze off before Jakob hit the ground was up for debate, but the language being used in West Fall City immediately shifted 100% closer to 'child friendly' because of it.

Meanwhile, the lucha had clawed at his own face until his fingernails had torn threads from the mask. The gas that had been pumped into the building was painful enough that he had been blinded coming out of it, but in the fresh, post-apocalyptic air of the back alley things had turned to a tear-filled blurry haze.

"Tú!" spat the wrestler along with another serving of froth to soak the chin of his mask. His eyes were burning and watered, but he did not need clear vision to see the lone form of an armed man standing in that alley. With large, monstrous hands the lucha ripped the dumpster away from the building he had barreled straight into and slid it down the alley.

With his head tucked low the enormous man placed himself behind it and ran - using the steel bin as an enormous battering ram that rushed straight at Jasper sweeping up everything in its path. "Yo te aplastará como a un insecto!"

He would have liked to catch the lucha in the jaw, but it would be impossible for him; the large man had pushed the dumpster ahead of him while using it as cover, keeping his chin tucked and his head low. When Jasper rebounded off of the window sill to avoid the Mexican Freight Train his boot planted itself instead squarely onto the side of the lucha's mask, sending him tumbling sideways away from the skidding dumpster and into a nearby pile of trash.

There would be no time for shameless ringside showmanship though, as a glance to the side would show Jasper his own reflection in a pair of hundred dollar sunglasses and a short-barrel shotgun being leveled in his direction. It seemed like he wasn't the only one who had planned on being shot at today. Jakob fired, pumped out a shell, said something with the words 'chicken' and 'v****a' in it, and fired again. At the distance he was standing the spread would be pretty wide with not much of a barrel on the gun, but it -was- an alley after all. There wasn't much room to huck and jive back here.

Jasper had a downed lucha ahead of him, a shotgun-toting ruskie to his right, and without further adieu the Captain himself poked a shoulder past the edge of the building back where Jasper had entered the alley and took aim with his rifle.

This was not a good place to be.

Wham.

The shotgun's buckshot buried itself into the flexi-suit a few dozen feet or so further down the alley, ripping up the dark suit's exterior with dozens of tiny flecks fraying the kevlar but doing little to the person wearing it. By the time the shell was ejected and another loaded into the chamber Jasper had already drawn another weapon and fired.

Bam.

The explosive round shot down the alley towards the peeking rifleman and (2=) struck the ground just behind the corner of the building, exploding on contact to dig a small hole into the broken pavement there and scatter a few bricks from the blasted corner halfway down the alley.

Thank you ma'am.

His next acrobatic maneuver would be ended early as Jasper was jerked harshly out of his motion by a meaty hand grabbing the back of his head. With one swift and powerful movement the garbage-covered lucha ripped Jasper sideways out of his kick; wrapping his right arm around Samuel L. Jackson's to wrestle the man's weapon arm behind his back while simultaneously slamming his face into the side of the building to their right.

"Estoy harto de puta madre estos agentes encubiertos en mi ciudad de puta madre."

Jakob's sunglasses would survive another day, and thanks to Jasper he and the lucha had just doubled their share of the loot. Or tripled. Or something... neither of them had ever been very good at math, they just knew that they were getting more now.