FINAL REPORT: PROGRAM V1 ENDGAME

[Namira]

OFFICIAL REPORT OF PACIFICATION EXERCISE ITERATION FORTY-TWO, DESIGNATE: PROGRAM.

As requested, here is the summary of the final events leading up to the conclusion of Program 42, codename Boomerang.


LOCATION: OFFICER'S QUARTERS

AREA IS STREWN WITH BODIES OF DECEASED PARTICIPANTS. A FIGURE ROUNDS A CORNER, CAMERA ZOOMS IN TO 5X MAGNIFICATION. SUBJECT IS F06, MASON, SOPHIE (SEE ATTACHED DOSSIERS FOR FURTHER INFORMATION). MASON APPROACHES THE LIBRARY AREA; SEE PREVIOUS REPORTS FOR INFORMATION ON LIBRARY'S USE AS A STRATEGIC KILL ZONE. MASON APPEARS TO NOTICE THE BODY OF F17, WATANABE, JULIET (KNOWN UNDESIRABLE), AND LINGERS FOR APPROXIMATELY THIRTY (30) SECONDS, WHEREUPON SHE IS INTERRUPTED BY THE EIGHTH ANNOUNCEMENT.

ANNOUNCEMENT DELIVERED BY BRIGADIER-GENERAL DAVID ADAMS PROCEEDS FOR 6 MINUTES, 34 SECONDS. MASON DOES NOT SHOW OUTWARD REACTION, BEFORE PROGRESSING BACK INTO THE HALLWAY. MASON REACHES THE BODY OF F10, MASON, STEPHANIE (SEE ATTACHED DOSSIERS FOR FURTHER INFORMATION) AND REMAINS BY THE DECEASED.

AT THIS MOMENT, B21, TORRES, BRETT (COMMENDED PARTICIPANT) ENTERS THE BUILDING. IT IS APPARENT HE HAS SEEN MASON AND IS SEARCHING FOR HER. AFTER FAILING INITIALLY TO SPOT MASON, TORRES SECURES THE DOORS WITH A SHIRT, AND THEN PROCEEDS, WEAPON PRIMED. AROUND THE CORNER FROM TORRES' POSITION, MASON APPEARS TO HEAR TORRES APPROACHING, AND PREPARES HER OWN FIREARM. APPROXIMATELY FIVE (5) SECONDS PASS, AND MASON THEN STEPS OUT OF COVER WITH HER GUN RAISED.

MASON: I see you've finally decided to join the rest of us... Pity you didn't do so sooner. In case you hadn't heard, I ended up having to do most of the hard work all by myself.

TORRES: What the fuck are you talking about? (BRANDISHING HIS LMG) Gimme one reason-

MASON: Wait. Hear me out.

PAUSE, THREE (3) SECONDS.

TORRES: All right, but if you try anything I'll blow your fucking brains out.

MASON: Whatever. Look. There are only four of us left. Me and you are obviously the biggest threats. If we fight now, whoever doesn't die will be messed up pretty badly.

TORRES NOTABLY FROWNS. HE APPEARS TO BE CONSIDERING THIS.

MASON: Brendon and Marilyn, they know they're screwed in a straight fight. What's stopping them working together to finish off the survivor?

TORRES: So what, you wanna pinky swear not to attack each other? You must think I'm pretty goddamn stupid.

MASON: I'm saying we should work together until it's the two of us. No guarantees, no promises. Just the best way to make sure it's one of us that gets to live.

LONG PAUSE, NINE (9) SECONDS.

TORRES: You... might actually have a point. Fuck it, you know what, you're right. I ain't letting those pussies pick the bones. Not after coming so far.

MASON: Partners then?

TORRES: Until we both shoot each other, sure.

THE TWO LOCK EYES AND BEGIN TO DISCUSS A PLAN OF ACTION.


LOCATION: BARRACKS EXTERIOR

M04, ARRINGTON, BRENDON (SEE ATTACHED DOSSIER FOR FURTHER INFORMATION) LEANS AGAINST THE WALL OF THE BARRACKS BUILDING, LISTENING TO THE EIGHTH ANNOUNCEMENT. AFTER THE ANNOUNCEMENT CONCLUDES, ARRINGTON REMAINS IN PLACE FOR APPROXIMATELY SEVEN (7) MINUTES, APPARENTLY LOST IN THOUGHT. DURING THIS PERIOD HE SPENDS SOME TIME CHECKING HIS WEAPON AND SORTING THROUGH HIS DAYPACK.

AT THE CONCLUSION OF THIS TIME PERIOD F11, WILLIAMS, MARILYN (SEE DOCUMENT; MINORITY ELEMENTS IN PROGRAM) STEPS AROUND THE SIDE OF THE BUILDING, LETS OUT A CRY, AND DUCKS BACK BEHIND THE CORNER. ARRINGTON LOOKS OVER AND HESITATES. WILLLIAMS HAS HER BACK TO THE WALL AND IS CLINGING TO HER GUN, SHOWING VISIBLE SIGNS OF DISTRESS. NEITHER MOVES FOR A FURTHER FIVE (5) SECONDS.

ARRINGTON: Marilyn? Is that you?

WILLIAMS INHALES SHARPLY, BUT OTHERWISE DOES NOT SPEAK.

ARRINGTON: Marilyn, this is Brendon. I don't want to hurt you. Listen, can we talk?

PAUSE, APPROXIMATELY TEN (10) SECONDS. WILLIAMS EDGES CLOSER TO THE CORNER.

WILLIAMS: Wuh-wuh-what?

BRENDON: Almost everyone is dead. Other than us, the only people left are Sophie and Brett... and they've been killing since this all started, and, well... look. I know that you don't really know me... but can we at least talk face to face?

SILENCE FOR FOUR (4) SECONDS, WILLIAMS SHIFTS AND PEERS CAUTIOUSLY AROUND THE CORNER. CLOSE FOCUS FROM A CAMERA REVEALS THAT SHE IS TREMBLING.

WILLIAMS: W-wuh-why duh-do you wuh-want t-t-to talk?

ARRINGTON: Like I said, Sophie and Brett are dangerous. Really damn dangerous. I probably don't even have to tell you that.

WILLIAMS' EYES NARROW FOR A MOMENT, BUT SHE APPEARS TO BE LISTENING.

ARRINGTON: I think we should watch each other's backs. If nothing else we can make sure neither of those sons of bitches get a free ticket out of here.

WILLIAMS: Juh-Juliet said nuh-not to... she suh-said to suh-stay out of f-f-fuh-fighting.

ARRINGTON: Yeah? And what happens when you're the last thing standing between Brett or Sophie and home? You think you can take either of them on alone?

WILLIAMS SHRINKS BACK AGAINST THE WALL, FACE CRUMPLING. ARRINGTON SIGHS.

ARRINGTON: Sorry. I'm not trying to be an asshole, and I'm not gonna pretend that I never picked on you or anything, but I'm not trying to kill you right now, that counts for something, right?

WILLIAMS: I suh-s-suppose.

ARRINGTON: Look... if you want to go hide or whatever it is you were planning, then go for it. I'm just suggesting strength in numbers is better than burying your head in the sand and hoping for the best.

WILLIAMS: ...okay. I'll cuh-come wuh-with you.

ARRINGTON SMILES.

ARRINGTON: Great! That's great. You look out for me, and I'll look out for you.

WILLIAMS LOOKS DOWN AT HER GUN.

WILLIAMS: Duh-duh-d-deal.


LOCATION: OPEN GROUND

ARRINGTON AND WILLIAMS HAVE BEEN ACCOMPANYING ONE ANOTHER FOR FIFTY-SEVEN (57) MINUTES, THE COURSE OF WHICH HAS SEEN THEM MAKE A SLOW ANTICLOCKWISE PROGRESSION AROUND THE COMPOUND. CONVERSATION HAS BEEN POLITE BUT STRAINED; WILLIAMS HAS OBVIOUS RESERVATIONS ABOUT THE PARTNERSHIP, WHILE ARRINGTON IS HAVING DIFFICULTIES ENGAGING IN TALK. BOTH ARE SUFFERING FATIGUE AND A GREATER OR LESSER DEGREE OF INJURY. THE PAIR STOP IN THEIR TRACKS AT THE EDGE OF THE JAILHOUSE, CONTEMPLATING MOVING OUT INTO THE OPEN. ARRINGTON HOLDS UP A HAND.

ARRINGTON: Wait, I think I see something.

A CAMERA FOLLOWS HIS GAZE, TRACKING IT TO A SPRAWLED FIGURE ON THE CONCRETE. CLOSE MAGNIFICATION REVEALS THAT IT IS F10, MASON, STEPHANIE. ARRINGTON DOES NOT APPEAR TO BE AWARE OF THIS.

ARRINGTON: I dunno about you, but I don't remember that being there before...

WILLIAMS: Yuh-y-you thuh-thuh-think it's... one of thu-them?

ARRINGTON: Dunno. Maybe. Didn't hear anyone fighting.

LONG PAUSE OF FIFTEEN (15) SECONDS AS ARRINGTON SQUINTS AT THE CORPSE.

ARRINGTON: Okay. Hang back here while I go check this out. Cover me. You can do that, right?

WILLIAMS NODS. ARRINGTON RETURNS THE GESTURE AND THEN MOVES AROUND TO THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE BUILDING, PROCEEDING TO SLOWLY VENTURE OUT BEYOND THE JAILHOUSE INTO THE OPEN. AT THIS STAGE, CAMERAS PICK UP TWO SEPARATE POINTS OF MOVEMENT. ADDITIONAL MAGNIFICATION DETERMINES THAT MASON, SOPHIE HAS POSITIONED HERSELF ON THE STAIRWAY LEADING UP TO THE HELIPAD, TAKING UP AN ELEVATED POSITION. MEANWHILE, TORRES, INITIALLY CONCEALED BEHIND A SET OF THE HELIPAD'S STRUTS, IS NOW APPROACHING FROM THE SIDE IN FLANKING POSITION. THE INTENTION APPEARS TO BE CATCHING ARRINGTON IN A CROSSFIRE.

STAYING PUT BY THE JAILHOUSE, WILLIAMS IS SCANNING THE AREA AS ARRINGTON MOVES FURTHER AND FURTHER OUT FROM COVER. HER EYES NOTABLY WIDEN AS SHE CATCHES SIGHT OF TORRES ON THE GROUND, AND SHE YELLS OUT A WARNING.

WILLIAMS: WUH-WATCH OUT!

WILLIAMS DISCHARGES HER GUN IN TORRES' DIRECTION, MISSING BY SOME DISTANCE.

TORRES: Fuck!

TORRES RAPIDLY SWITCHES DIRECTION AND FIRES AT WILLIAMS. WILLIAMS SCREAMS BUT IS UNHARMED. SWEARING MULTIPLE TIMES, TORRES PURSUES WILLIAMS, ABANDONING THE PREVIOUS PLAN IN ORDER TO CHASE HER. WILLIAMS FLEES.

MEANWHILE, MASON, SEEING THIS AND OBVIOUSLY ANGERED, OPENS FIRE ON AN EXPOSED ARRINGTON, WHO DIVES FOR THE GROUND. IN SPITE OF THIS, A SHOT CLIPS HIM IN THE UPPER LEFT ARM, CAUSING SUBSTANTIAL BLEEDING. ARRINGTON RETURNS FIRE, FORCING MASON TO DUCK.

ARRINGTON: Sophie! I'm coming for you, you piece of shit!

ARRINGTON SPRINTS FOR THE BASE OF THE STAIRS MASON IS ENCAMPED UPON, HIS RAPID MOVEMENT CAUSING FURTHER SHOTS FROM MASON TO MISS. STARTING TO PANIC, MASON BEGINS TO RETREAT UP THE STAIRS, EXCHANGING FIRE WITH ARRINGTON AS HE ADVANCES. THIS CONTINUES ALL THE WAY UP THE STAIRCASE, EXCEPTING A BRIEF INTERLUDE WHERE MASON HURLS AN EMPTY GUN AT ARRINGTON, NARROWLY MISSING.

AS ARRINGTON REACHES THE TOP, MASON IS LYING IN WAIT AND IMMEDIATELY LASHES OUT WITH HER CROWBAR, SMASHING ARRINGTON'S PISTOL FROM HIS HAND AS HE FIRES AT HER. DISARMED, ARRINGTON THROWS A PUNCH, STRIKING A GLANCING BLOW ACROSS MASON'S FACE. AT THIS POINT, ARRINGTON'S INJURY IS BLEEDING HEAVILY, THOUGH IT IS UNCLEAR HOW SEVERE THE WOUND IS. MASON AGAIN SWINGS FOR ARRINGTON, AND HE IS THIS TIME FORCED TO PARRY WITH HIS WOUNDED ARM. THE IMPACT IS HEAVY, AND ARRINGTON LETS OUT A ROAR OF PAIN. THUS ENCOURAGED, MASON PRESSES FORWARD, BUT HAS HER KNEE KICKED OUT FROM UNDER HER WITH A WELL-PLACED BOOT.

MASON, SEEING ARRINGTON'S PISTOL ON THE GROUND, SCRAMBLES FOR IT, BUT IS DRAGGED BACK BY THE FOOT. TWISTING, MASON STRIKES AT HIS HANDS REPEATEDLY WITH HER CROWBAR, FORCING HIM TO LET GO OR SUFFER BROKEN FINGERS. WITH THE DISTANCE THIS HAS OPENED, MASON SCRAMBLES BACK TO HER FEET AND AIMS A SERIES OF SWINGS AT ARRINGTON, EACH TIME PRODUCING EVASIVE ACTION FROM HER ADVERSARY. AS MASON SWINGS FOR A FOURTH SUCCESSIVE ATTACK, ARRINGTON ON THIS OCCASION STEPS INWARD, RECEIVING A HEAVY BLOW TO THE SHOULD, BUT ALLOWING HIMSELF TO DELIVER A ONE, TWO, THREE COMBINATION OF PUNCHES TO MASON'S SOLAR PLEXUS, OBVIOUSLY WINDING HER.

STRUGGLING FROM THE REPEATED IMPACTS, ARRINGTON ADVANCES, ONLY TO RECEIVE A DESPERATE BACKHANDED SWING WITH THE CROWBAR. MANAGING TO GET A HAND UP TO CUSHION THE BLOW, THE CROWBAR STILL IMPACTS AGAINST THE SIDE OF ARRINGTON'S HEAD, DIZZYING HIM AND DRAWING BLOOD AT THE POINT OF IMPACT. MASON ATTEMPTS TO PUSH THIS ADVANTAGE AND CHARGES AT ARRINGTON, ONLY FOR HIM TO DROP LOW AND SMASH INTO MASON AT KNEE HEIGHT, SENDING HER OVER HIS HEAD AND STUNNING BOTH.

MASON: Just- fucking DIE already!

AS THE PAIR REGAIN THEIR BEARINGS, ARRINGTON LABORIOUSLY MAKES FOR HIS GUN, WHILE MASON LEVERS HERSELF TO HER FEET. AS ARRINGTON REACHES FOR THE WEAPON, MASON IS BEARING DOWN UPON HIM FROM BEHIND.

ARRINGTON SEIZES IT, TWISTS, AND FIRES, HITTING MASON THREE TIMES IN THE CHEST AND STOMACH. MASON INSTANTLY COLLAPSES TO THE GROUND BUT NEVERTHELESS STRUGGLES FORWARD, CRAWLING AND CLAWING AT ARRINGTON. ONE FINAL, WEAKENED SWING CONNECTS WITH ARRINGTON'S ANKLE, CAUSING VISIBLE PAIN, BUT MASON, AT LAST, COLLAPSES ONTO HER FACE, BLOOD POOLING BENEATH HER.

F06: MASON, SOPHIE - ELIMINATED


MEANWHILE, TORRES HAS BEEN IN PURSUIT OF WILLIAMS ACROSS THE COMPOUND. WILLIAMS IS PROVING TO BE DIFFICULT FOR TORRES TO CATCH, BOTH CARRYING LESS WEIGHT AND MORE FLEET OF FOOT, CONSISTENT WITH THE ATHLETIC PROFILE DESCRIBED IN HER DOSSIER. TORRES' PURSUIT HAS BEEN PUNCTUATED BY BURSTS OF GUNFIRE, BUT HE HAS BEEN UNABLE TO HIT WILLIAMS BETWEEN FIRING ON THE RUN AND TRYING TO HIT A MOVING TARGET. WHILST RUNNING, TORRES IS MUTTERING TO HIMSELF.

TORRES: C'mon you bitch, c'mon... you fucking foreign-

TORRES FIRES AGAIN AS WILLIAMS SWINGS AROUND THE CORNER OF A BUILDING. THERE IS A PUFF OF BLOOD AND A CRY OF PAIN. CUTTING TO ANOTHER CAMERA SHOWS THAT WILLIAMS HAS BEEN HIT IN THE UPPER RIGHT SHOULDER. THERE IS NO APPARENT EXIT WOUND, AND THE BLOOD IS ALREADY FLOWING FREELY. BOOSTED AUDIO INDICATES THAT WILLIAMS HAS BEGUN TO WHIMPER IN PAIN. TORRES GRINS AS HE PURSUES WILLIAMS AROUND THE CORNER, SEEING THE BLOOD SPLATTER.

TORRES: Got you! Got you. Gonna fuck you up for uncle Sam then go home. So damn close.

STARTING TO STAGGER, WILLIAMS MAKES BACK FOR THE HELIPAD. BEHIND HER TORRES PAUSES WITH HIS LMG, TRYING TO LINE UP A SHOT AS WILLIAMS CROSSES THE OPEN GROUND, STEADYING HIMSELF. HOWEVER, JUST AS HE SETS TO PULL THE TRIGGER, WILLIAMS TWISTS AND SHOOTS BACK AT HIM, THE PANG OF METAL ON METAL RESOUNDING. TORRES YELPS; SLOW MOTION VIDEO REVEALS THAT WILLIAMS HIT THE SECOND GUN SLUNG AT HIS HIP. TORRES QUICKLY REGAINS HIS BEARINGS AND SHOOTS BACK, MISSING, THEN IMMEDIATELY SETS OFF IN PURSUIT AGAIN.

WOUNDED, WILLIAMS IS BEGINNING TO STRUGGLE AND SLOW DOWN AS SHE REACHES THE STRUTS OF THE HELIPAD. SHE DRAWS TO A HALT, DUCKING BEHIND ONE OF THEM, AND BEGINS LOOKING AROUND. TEARS ARE IN HER EYES.

WILLIAMS: Buh-Buh-Brendon?

CONTEXT: ARRINGTON IS CURRENTLY ON TOP OF THE HELIPAD, RECOVERING FROM HIS FIGHT WITH MASON AND HAVING DIFFICULTY MOVING ANYWHERE QUICKLY.

UNABLE TO LOCATE HER COMPANION, WILLIAMS TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND THEN FIRES AROUND THE CORNER OF THE STRUT. BULLETS WHIZZ PAST TORRES, BUT HE CONTINUES TO ADVANCE UNHARMED. AS HE GETS CLOSER TO WILLIAMS' POSITION, TORRES FIRES A SERIES OF SHORT BURSTS. AFTER THE FOURTH SUCH BURST, TORRES MAKES CONTACT, WILLIAMS YELPS AS HER GUN GOES FLYING FROM HER HAND; SHE HAS BEEN HIT JUST ABOVE THE ELBOW.

WILLIAMS, BACK TO THE STRUT, SLIDES ALL THE WAY TO THE FLOOR, SOBBING AND CRADLING HER ARM. SHE WHIMPERS AS TORRES STEPS AROUND THE CORNER.

TORRES: Jesus christ you're pathetic.

TORRES SHOOTS HER IN THE STOMACH, WILLIAMS GASPS, THEN COLLAPSES. HER FORM IS TREMBLING BUT SHE IS MAKING NO NOISE. BLOOD BEGINS TO SEEP PAST HER HAND AND ONTO THE GROUND.

FROM SOME DISTANCE ABOVE, ARRINGTON CALLS OUT.

ARRINGTON: Marilyn! Marilyn are you okay?

TORRES LOOKS TO WILLIAMS.

TORRES: Sounds like that's my date. Don't go anywhere.

HE SMIRKS AT HIS JOKE AND SETS OFF UP THE HELIPAD STEPS.



ATOP THE HELIPAD, ARRINGTON SWEARS.

ARRINGTON: Shit. Shit

THE SOUNDS OF TORRES ASCENDING THE STAIRS CAN BE HEARD. ARRINGTON CASTS AROUND, THEN NOTICES THE DISABLED EQUIPMENT FOR REFUELING THE HELICOPTERS. HE PAINSTAKINGLY MAKES HIS WAY OVER THERE AND TAKES COVER BEHIND THE MACHINERY, THEN WAITS.

TORRES APPEARS AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS. ARRINGTON DOES NOT HESITATE TO START SHOOTING, FORCING TORRES TO DUCK BACK DOWN THE STEPS AGAIN.

TORRES: WOW FUCKING RUDE!

ARRINGTON SAYS NOTHING AND FIRES AGAIN. TORRES, EYES NARROWED, PRODUCES HIS GUN AND SHOOTS BACK, MUTTERING TO HIMSELF.

TORRES: Stupid fucking- why couldn't this just be easy...

THE TWO OF THEM CONTINUE TO EXCHANGE FIRE. PERIODICALLY, TORRES ATTEMPTS TO MAKE A BREAK FROM HIS COVER TO MAKE FOR A BETTER POSITION, BUT HIS ATTEMPTS ARE GENERALLY REPELLED BY ARRINGTON. THERE IS, DURING A LULL IN THE GUNFIRE, A LOUD CLATTERING - ARRINGTON HAS FUMBLED A MAGAZINE, AND IN TRYING TO CATCH IT, SENT IN SPINNING AGAINST THE MACHINERY. TORRES' EYES LIGHT UP, AND AS ARRINGTON ATTEMPTS TO RETRIEVE THE AMMUNITION, TORRES VAULTS UP THE STAIRS AND DASHES ACROSS THE HELIPAD, MAKING CONSIDERABLE DISTANCE BEFORE ARRINGTON CAN FIRE AGAIN.

DUCKING BEHIND A STORAGE CONTAINER, TORRES CALLS OUT AGAIN.

TORRES: Come on Brendon! This hasn't gotta be bloody! Just come on out and fight me like a man!

ARRINGTON: Rich coming from you, asshole! Come get me if you want me so bad!

ARRINGTON FIRES, IMPACTING ONLY INCHES AWAY FROM TORRES' HEAD. TORRES SWEARS AND DIVES BACK BEHIND THE CONTAINER. AGAIN, THE TWO FIRE ON ONE ANOTHER, BUT THE SHOOTING FROM ARRINGTON'S END GROWS MORE AND MORE SPORADIC. CLOSE-UP SUGGESTS HE IS BECOMING HESITANT TO FIRE. IT BECOMES CLEAR HE IS NEARLY OUT OF BULLETS. TORRES PEEKS OUT, ARRINGTON SHOOTS AT HIM TWICE MORE, ONLY FOR HIS GUN TO CLICK DRY.

ARRINGTON (HUSHED): ...Fuck.

HE GRIMACES AND THROWS THE PISTOL DOWN. LONG PAUSE, THIRTY (30) SECONDS. TORRES SLOWLY GRINS.

TORRES: Still with me, Brendon? You've gone real quiet over there.

CAUTIOUSLY, TORRES MOVES AROUND THE EDGE OF THE CONTAINER. ARRINGTON REMAINS IN COVER. TORRES PAUSES, FIVE (5) SECONDS. SLOWLY, HE BEGINS TO STEP FORWARD, CLOSER AND CLOSER TO ARRINGTON'S POSITION. AS HE REACHES THE POINT OF OUTFLANKING, HE RAISES HIS LMG ONE MORE TIME- AND ARRINGTON LEAPS OUT WITH THE CROWBAR, A SHARP DOWNWARD SWING THAT CONNECTS ACROSS TORRES' FOREARMS, CAUSING HIM TO YELL OUT IN PAIN.

ARRINGTON, HOWEVER, IS STILL INJURED, AND A HEALTHIER TORRES FIGHTS BACK WITH HIS FISTS, STRIKING A HEAVY BLOW AGAINST ARRINGTON'S WOUNDED ARM. DRIVING BACK THE OTHER CONTESTANT, TORRES STRIKES ARRINGTON ACROSS THE FACE, TO WHICH THE RETALIATION IS A HEAVY KICK TO TORRES' KNEE. CURSING, TORRES HOPS BACK WITH A HOBBLE IN HIS STEP. ARRINGTON SWINGS AGAIN WITH THE CROWBAR, BUT TORRES TAKES THE MAJORITY OF THE HIT ACROSS THE SHOULDER, STRIKING ARRINGTON IN THE FACE A SECOND TIME, MOMENTARILY STUNNING HIM.

LIMPING, BUT WITH DISTANCE ENOUGH, TORRES BACKPEDALS, SCOOPING UP HIS WEAPON. HE FIRES AS ARRINGTON CLOSES THE DISTANCE, BUT HIS SHOTS ARE WILD AS ARRINGTON ERRATICALLY DUCKS THE SHOULDER AND DIVES LOW, CLIPPING TORRES IN THE KNEE AGAIN. TORRES, STILL SWEARING REPEATEDLY, KICKS ARRINGTON IN THE FACE AS HE TRIES TO RISE, KNOCKING HIM FLAT ONTO HIS BACK. HE LEVELS THE LMG AT ARRINGTON.

TORRES: God bless America, buddy.

REPEATED SHOTS. TORRES CONVULSES AS HE IS HIT IN THE BACK MULTIPLE TIMES. HE PULLS THE TRIGGER, SENDING BULLETS IN A WILD CIRCLE THROUGH THE AIR AND HITTING NOTHING. HE COLLAPSES.

B21: TORRES, BRETT - ELIMINATED

BLEEDING HEAVILY, ONE ARM HANGING LIMP AT HER SIDE, WILLIAMS LOWERS HER WEAPON.

CONTEXT, MOMENTS EARLIER:

SHOT IN THE GUT AND BLEEDING BADLY, WILLIAMS, WHIMPERING, MANAGES TO PUSH HERSELF UP OFF THE GROUND, USING ONE OF THE STRUTS OF THE HELIPAD FOR SUPPORT. SHE WAVERS AND NEARLY COLLAPSES AGAIN, BUT REMAINS UPRIGHT IN A SITTING POSITION. SHE LOOKS TOWARDS THE STEPS LEADING UPWARD, FROM WHICH THE FAINT SOUNDS OF TORRES' ASCENT CAN BE HEARD. LETTING OUT A SLOW AND SHUDDERING BREATH, WILLIAMS BEGINS TO HALF CRAWL, HALF DRAG HER WAY TO THE STAIRS AND START UP THEM.

OVER THE COURSE OF THE NEXT SEVERAL MINUTES, THE GUNFIGHT BREAKING OUT ABOVE, WILLIAMS CLIMBS HER WAY UP THE STAIRS, LEAVING A LONG TRAIL OF BLOOD ALL THE WAY DOWN. WHILE PRESSURE, ADRENALINE AND GOOD FORTUNE HAS SLOWED THE BLEEDING SOMEWHAT, SHE IS STILL CLEARLY IN A GREAT DEAL OF PAIN AND STRUGGLING. NEVERTHELESS, SHE COVERS THE GROUND AND EVEN, AS THE FIGHT PROCEEDS, HAULS HERSELF TO HER FEET, LEANING HEAVILY ON THE RAILING BUT SPEEDING HER CLIMB. SOON ENOUGH, SHE REACHES THE TOP JUST AS TORRES IS RETRIEVING HIS GUN.


WILLIAMS REMAINS SWAYING IN PLACE AND AFTER A SLIGHT PAUSE, THREE (3) SECONDS, THE PISTOL DROPS FROM WILLIAMS' HAND AND SHE SLOWLY SLUMPS TO THE FLOOR. A DAZED ARRINGTON, ALSO WOUNDED, PAINSTAKINGLY LEVERS HIMSELF UP.

ARRINGTON: Marilyn! Hold on, hold on, I'll be right there!

ARRINGTON LABORIOUSLY MAKES HIS WAY TO WILLIAMS. EACH OF HER BREATHS IS COMING RAGGEDLY AND IN SHORT GASPS. THOUGH SHE APPEARS BARELY ABLE TO MOVE, SHE LOOKS UP AS ARRINGTON APPROACHES AND KNEELS ALONGSIDE HER.

ARRINGTON: Hey - come on- come on, we just won okay? They're gone, they're both dead.

WILLIAMS SEEMS TO ATTEMPT A SMILE, BUT FROM THE AMOUNT OF BLOOD SHE HAS LOST, THE EXPRESSION IS WEAK. HER HAND BATS VAGUELY AT THE AIR AND THEN FINDS ARRINGTON'S. SHE SEEMS CONTENT TO HOLD ON.

WILLIAMS: Not... not scared... anymore.

ARRINGTON: I'm sorry. I'm just- I'm sorry.

AGAIN, WILLIAMS TRIES TO SMILE. ARRINGTON CRADLES HER HEAD AND CONTINUES TO HOLD HER HAND AS SHE CLOSES HER EYES. FOUR (4) FURTHER MINUTES ELAPSE BEFORE WILLIAMS BLEEDS OUT AND SIGNS OF LIFE CEASE. ARRINGTON REMAINS IN THE SAME PLACE UNTIL HIS RETRIEVAL BY THE ON-SITE TEAMS SOME DURATION LATER.

F11: WILLIAMS, MARILYN - ELIMINATED

OPERATION BOOMERANG SUCCESSFUL.

END REPORT