Things were going reasonably, though honestly, I am uncertain as to why I, of all people, was sent on an ambush. It was hardly my "element", as it were. Impersonal and tasteless. But as to the events that happened, as I stated, things could have gone better.
We were flanking the van, with Photo stationed to snipe any who fled with his crossbow. Unfortunately we were not the only ones present. There was a child. Quiet at first. Hallowed, likely. Got there first and set things off. Started wailing like a gutted cat, only less likely to stop.
I am adverse to gutting cats.
Obviously, things went horribly, horribly wrong at that point. They were alerted to our presence, and someone was playing snipes in the distance. Not Photo. A rifle. Either way, the males slipped away, and Nat made her way into the van to go after the third.
She was reduced to a yammering, giggling, limp wreck by some sort of drugging by the woman inside. I went to help her. Ronin was going after the child, and harmed him a reasonable bit, getting himself wounded as well in the process.
We were interfered with and ambushed, ourselves. Not by the group of the one "Joseph" calls Moriarty. I have little doubt of that. By another group. Disgusting.
Ronin, the stubborn ass, was still trying to go after the other young one while half-gutted. And then one of them had a gun to Ronin's head, though Photo grazed him with an arrow and distracted him from that.
And out came the Doctor-woman, bolting for the hills after drugging a member of the other "team" as well. The other two of the courier-types followed her, with their package in hand. The priority at that point, with the marks having all but escaped, was to get everyone out, with one drugged and lost in a daze, one bleeding out, and only myself and Photo still standing, with the rifle-one still in the distance.
We failed. We are all alive, but we have failed.