Door 2 - The Wasteland

[SirBayer]

Smith went after the officer, moving in towards the stairs, storing his massive rifle into nothingness and drawing the ROUS. He sprinted now. "Watch out for the officer!" Smith shouted to his soldiers, and they turned their weapons sky-ward in preparation to eliminate the target.  

[NativeForeigner]

Smith came across the officer, still where Smith had fell him. He had a needle, much like the medic had, in his left hand and was preparing to inject himself with it.
He spotted Smith and let out a muffled scream of anger as he grabbed his rifle and leveled it at Smith.
Before a shot could be fired from the rifle, Smith aimed his ROUS and blew the Officer's head from his shoulder.  

[SirBayer]

Smith moved over to the body, carefully securing the needle and storing it away into nothingness. After some further confirmation, he determined the facility to be clear. "Alright, don't know if there'll be a counter-offensive, so let's get to work sealing off at least one of the entrances," Smith ordered. "Chop chop!" The soldiers set to work with whatever they had on hand to do this.  

[Elesariin]

Gwen grimaced under her mask. She would have preferred to wait until a tourniquet was in place to remove the spike (if it was removed at all), but it was too late to worry about it at that point. Her eyes and mind on the wound, she firmly told the surrounding soldiers what she would need, including the cleaning supplies, several sturdy strips of cloth, some kind of fairly long board, sewing supplies, and something cold along with some kind of tube that she could use for drainage, if they had access to either one. Now she needed to see how much the bone had been damaged by the spike...  

[NativeForeigner]

While Smith's men were busy barricading the front entrance with whatever they could find. It wasn't much, but they managed to move several pieces of debris from the garage to block the entrance.
The piled up concrete, metal, and other such things until an effective barricade was formed. After this was accomplished, the soldiers took the liberty of dispersing the remaining debris on the factory floor, effectively creating two more effective barriers for use as cover directly under the bridge. The two barriers were directly next to each other, the distance between them was the width of one of the central pillars. The size of the barriers themselves was roughly three or four feet high, six feet wide, and three feet long.

A soldier approached Smith, "Sir," she began, "There's an inert Wreck in the garage, would you like us to try to reactivate it?"

*

Gwen discovered that the Officer's femur had been punctured by the spike.

Juliet's magazine: 24/24 (SMG) [0]/ 12/12 (Glock26) [3] | 10/10 (Five-seveN) [4]
Alastair's magazine: 36/36 (AR) [1], 12/12 (SIG) [4]
Gwen's magazine: 10/12 (HG) [1], 5/5 (Rifle) [4]
ROUS: 6/6 [?]
M82: 8/10 [?]
Smith's Men (1): 9 (Officer critically injured, leg nearly amputated, [02])  

[Elesariin]

Gwen grimaced. That was not good. She wasn't a surgeon, for god's sake! Gritting her teeth, she started cleaning the wound as best she could and waited for supplies. At the very least, this needed a tourniquet and a splint so that her patient wouldn't be able to move his injured limb.  

[NativeForeigner]

Gwen realized that said supplies were gather previously.  

[Elesariin]

Gwen finished cleaning the wound and tied one of the strips of cloth tightly around the leg just above it. Hopefully that would stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down some. Next she splinted the leg to keep him from moving it, and then she got to the most difficult part: sewing him up. She wanted it to start healing from the inside, which was what the drainage tubing was for, but just getting him sewn up would be a nice consolation prize. Looking at the soldier's face, she shot him a distracted smile that he couldn't even see. "Hanging in there? I'm going to give you a shot of pain medication, okay?" Actually, it probably wouldn't matter all that much; he was probably in shock by that point, but it still felt right to ask.  

[NativeForeigner]

The officer groaned in agreement.  

[Elesariin]

Gwen nodded, then injected the stuff into the thigh of his uninjured leg. As soon as he went under a little more, she'd start sewing him up.  

[SirBayer]

Smith nodded. "Let's see that thing running - for us. I don't want to mess things up any further. Let's take a break and get ready to move forward if possible."  

[NativeForeigner]

The officer sighed with relief and his breathing eased.

*

The soldier nodded, "Alright," she said. She turned to survey the remaining soldiers they had with them before turning back to Smith. "It might be better if you radio Mick to come and assist, we lost our engineer in the fight."

Smith nodded and reached into his pocket and pulled out a rather large (considering it was in his pocket) black box with an antenna protruding from the top and a large, red button centered on the lower, right-hand corner of the face of the device.

Smith pressed the button, "Hello, Mick? We need you down here at Factory 31N1, how quickly can you get here?"

It was an absurdly large radio.

Smith released the button and an incomprehensible buzz of a response came through

"Good, see you then, over." Smith said before dropping the radio in his pocket. "Do what you can with the Wreck while we wait, he'll be here in a few minutes."  

[Elesariin]

Her brown knitted in concentration, Gwen started sewing.  

[NativeForeigner]

The door leading to the garage suddenly opened and a figure hobbled through. The being was wrapped in a hooded brown, belted cloak covering everything but his hands, feet, and face. His left hand appeared to be made of or coated in stainless steel (as human as it appeared), while the right was more rustic, though made of the same stainless steel. It consisted of three mechanical fingers connected to an artificial wrist socket. His feet were encased in thick boots made of darkened steel.
His face was covered by a steel mask. The Upper part of the mask was dark and smooth whereas the mouthpiece of the mask was lighter and lightly perforated. The eye lenses were round and heavily tinted and there were two filtration canisters on either side of the mouthpiece.

He was hunched over and carrying a large (about four or five feet in diameter) pack filled with numerous trinkets, pieces of scrap metal, gears, wires, tools, and other miscellaneous objects all covered by loosely strewn pieces of old cloth. The pack was held together by several pieces of rope tied together in intricate knots and patterns to ensure nothing fell out and is worn as a backpack.

The man himself appeared to be rather husky and he stood at about 5'8" with his back hunched over, though it was rather difficult to tell his actual height.
At his left hip was an oversized wrench.

"It's Mick, don't shoot." he said, his voice muffled by the mask. He sounded rather old and erupted into a coughing fit immediately after he finished his sentence.

He removed something from his pack, a wooden door, and tossed it onto the ground, "Though you might want that moved before more people started coming through." he explained before turning back into the door he came through and heading into the garage, supposedly working on the Wreck.

With Smith's command, two soldiers carried the door through the right-rear door of the factory and into a small, empty room where they set it up.

Smith and his men continued to do their work, setting up the factory to suit their needs and Gwen was making steady progress with patching the officer up.
The rhythmic sound of Mick banging metal against metal was broken by a sudden shout:
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?" followed by loud grumbling and the continued sound of metal clanging on metal, indicating that he had gone back to work.

Smith glanced up to see a winged man sitting upon the frame of the broken window between the garage and factory floor.

The man was of average height, fair-skinned, slim of figure, had dark, short hair, and piercing steel-colored eyes. He had a scar vertically crossing his right eye to the middle of his cheek and another scar crossing his left eye diagonally, starting from the middle of his forehead to the back of his jaw.

He wore a brown, collared shirt, opened down to the top of his chest with a few, small colored beads hanging from the collar. The shirt was tucked into a pair of darker brown slacks held up by a brown, leather belt that had a pocket watch along with several other trinkets, a steel flask, and miscellaneous, small devices hanging along it.

On his hands were brown, fingerless gloves, around his neck was a pair of brass-rimmed, wide tinted goggles, and on his feet were brown, leather shoes with a thick sole. Upon his head was a rather intricate, brown top hat. Wrapped around the hat in place of a band was a strip of scrap metal twisted around the hat and tied to the right with a large, brass pocket watch attached to the knotted metal. Over his left eye was a monocle. Attached to that monocle was two or three other lenses, including a curious red-colored lens, that could be flipped in front of the base lens.

Probably his most outstanding feature was the pair of copper wings, modeled after that of an angel's, protruding from his back.

"Hello, Smith." he said simply.

Juliet's magazine: 24/24 (SMG) [0]/ 12/12 (Glock26) [3] | 10/10 (Five-seveN) [4]
Alastair's magazine: 36/36 (AR) [1], 12/12 (SIG) [4]
Gwen's magazine: 10/12 (HG) [1], 5/5 (Rifle) [4]
ROUS: 6/6 [?]
M82: 8/10 [?]
Smith's Men (1): 9 (Officer critically injured leg [02])  

[Elesariin]

Gwen started violently at the sudden yell, but managed to avoid screwing up. Continuing to sew, she nonetheless tried to keep one ear open, in the hope that she'd hear something about her brother... or maybe some more concrete facts about who exactly they were fighting.