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Date: 15 July 2046. 2200 hours.
I sat at the bar in El Cocarocha, doing shots of Tequila with Eros. There had been some riots, some shootings, and some fucking in the basement, so what more could I really ask for while sitting here and while Eros was dancing drunkedly to "Its the End of the World as We Know It"?
For the world not to be ending. There goes my damn conscience again. I guess I can't say that, buz I didn't really know it was the end, it was just a feeling, and it certainly wasn't for me. There was still plenty to do. The corporations were still corporations, they had started hiring people, anyone, to come work at their facilities in the hopes they could somehow drag out the end times. I was pretty sure they were doomed to failure, just too many of the important people were missing, along with their valuable knowledge, that you just couldn't replace with a Burbs Drekhead.
I shouldn't have been suprised when Tak walked in, it must have been the dozen shots. "Hey old buddy!!" I shouted as he walked over. Eros vaguely turned his head.
"Hello," Tak said to me briefly. It looks like he means business. "I have a job for you. Lets go over to that booth and talk." Yup, business.
"No prob," I said as I got up and walked over.
Takashi was sitting in the corner booth as usual smoking a cigarette cooly. I walked over and sat opposite him, needing to push the table a little his way to get in, I grunted. "Getting fat old man?"
"Rhite man have big cock," I said with a japanese accent and a smile.
The waitress came over, left us our beers and Takashi said "Don't come back for half an hour," and left a 100C Arasaka note on the table for her. She took it and left.
I think we both took out our white noise generators and set them on the booth seat between us and the wall. I think we did the same with our bug stompers. We had the same teacher. I sorta missed the guy. "So tell me about it."
"Lets say that it has to do with a situation our mutual patron is in." He gave me his plesant smile. "And one of her competators."
Oooh, intrigue.
"One hour ago, the security detachment from Arasaka Security - Tia Juana left the coroprations facility there, leaving behind the staff and families within." His voice was a whisper that wasn't audible above the roar of the juke box and Eros' singing, I had to use my amped hearing to understand him. "They left because a local hacker who has an extreme dislike for Arasaka, who goes by Taco, sent them a falsified message to deploy to the Mexico City facility. Shortly thereafter the rebels in the city wiped out the last of the communications towers and cell network towers. The only way to communicate is by satellite phone, and they are receiving aid, paid for by the hour, from our mutual Patron's electronic warfare forces."
"You know I've been saying for years we should go back to no electronics on the battlefield."
"Among the civilians at the Arasaka - Tia Juana facility is a girl."
"Sounds easy, I like girls; get the girl. But what do I want with another girl, I already have one."
"Wait, I'm not done. She is the girlfriend of the security chief."
"Tee hee," I giggled. "That's irony," I said with a great big sharky grin.
"Still not done," Tak said in a terse voice. "The city is/was under attack by Anti-Aztechnology rebels, and is rioting, because power and electricity have been out for two weeks. Now with 90% of the Aztechnology geeks gone and 10% of the rebel forces gone, things are getting worse thanks to this big disappearance thing."
"That makes it easier not harder."
"Why do you keep interrupting? Is that fun for you?"
"Yes. I interrupt you. I kill all of them. Fun."
Tak glared at me. For like a whole minute. Then he continued, "She is also the neice of a VP in Aztechnology, and the assignment was for a local team in Coronado to go in and get her when we found out about it, but someone in Sales thinks it is a trap."
"Well it isn't a very goddamn good one. I'd send in someone expendable." I gave my crazy grin.
"Why? Why do you do this to me? ... Of course I'd send someone expendable, you ape, you goddamn round eye. I have the suicide squad in Coronado." His whispered deadpan might have caried pure hate, but we were friends.
I didn't say anything.
Tak, "Nothing to say?"
Silence.
Tak continued, "Good. Why doesn't Arasaka just bring her back? Cuz the sec chief left her behind, cuz like I said above, he's a moron. The Arasaka boys and girls, mostly girls, just left, thinking that somebody else would take care of the workers in the office building."
I still couldn't think of anything to say.
"So now our mutual benefactor has contrived a way to get something they want, something they need, something they'd like and a little something for you. If you don't get killed along the way."
"Sounds the SSDD."
"Yeah." Tak looked glum. "That opportunity includes a blackmail attempt involving a girl, information on Arasaka's latest manpower numbers, data on a new combat rifle they're developing, and something to do with a body of a guy named 'The Jackel' from here in MSP.
"You use yer mouth pertier than a twenty dollar whore."
"So are you in?"
"Give me the 8 men you had lined up for the job, the guns, and fuck yeah I'm in."
16 July 2046. 0015 hours.
Standing at the air station in Coronado, I remembered training here years ago. Coronado is one of the Dragoon's primary west coast training facilities. We were in a hanger with the doors shut, Tak was introducing me. There were a dozen chairs, a table, and a big roll out flatscreen and data pad. Apart from us and the table, there was nothing in here but the plane, the jeep, and the pallet of our gear.
"This is Sharkman," Tak said, "some of you may know of him. He will be leading this operation. Off the books. Consider him your employer." Tak gestured to me, I gave a kurt nod of the head towards the men. Some of them nodded back. No one made eye contact. "He has nothing to say, so I will introduce each of you."
"Good," I said.
"First, the demo men, Black and Bayou," Tak said. Black was black, tall, built like a football nose tackle, with a solid square jaw, and a round bald head. His face looked forgettable. But his size didn't; he must weigh 400 lbs, and probably had heavy subdermal armor. Bayou was a skinny (by this units standards) little kid with a scraggly beard and a narrow face. He looked over-calm and almost unintrested. He was probably only six foot tall, and easily the lightest of the group, barely 250 lbs I'd bet. That meant he would be fast and a jumper.
"Next are the two medics, which may sound out of place on a team like this, but Harry and Dobs will keep everyone together." Harry smiled, and Dobs had a look on his face like he was counting to a high number. Both were serious, but easy going. Harry was indian, north american, and beneath his long black hair was a statuesque tonto like face. The iconic nose and jaw, and the dark eyes. I bet he says "heap" at least once." Harry was big too, pushing seven foot, and probably nearing 400 lbs. That would make him a looker and climber. Dobs was a hispanic guy, with an ungly scar on the left side of his head. All to this point had natural eyes, but Dobs had a single high power lens eye where that scar ended. I bet he was a spotter too. Dobs was about my size, six and a half feet tall, 350 lbs. Big, broad, and built to take a beating. Sorry for the alliteration, I like onomatopoeia betta.
"The last two are the communications/intelligence pair; and yes, everyone on the team is a trained sniper and door breaker. They're all shooters. So, last but not least,"
I hated cliches.
"Are Dave and Xeon." These two were without a doubt ladies men. I bet they never turned it off. Both were pretty, sculpted, and had the aristocratic look of intelligent educated business men. Xeon looked saharan, and Dave was a white-boy, both had facial hair. Dave was a middle weight, but looked like a runner. The tall aryan look of a bavarian mountain climber, crossed with an olympic biathelete, and an Italian motorcycle driver. He looked fucking perfect, what did he have a death wish for? Xeon looked like an arabian prince, with the smooth skin and lazy manerisims of one of those sheiks that didn't have anything to do all day but let belly dancers suck his cock. I immeadietly hate him too. But like I said they were both middle weights, around six four and 275 lbs. with tank like chests and biceps tight as a snare drum.
Tak had finished, I had nodded, now the air crew sat up a little straighter as the captain layed out their flight plan. All I really caught was, "Loading will be completed by 0100," "Depart at 0100 with wheels up at 0115," and "Time over target is 45 seconds, D-hour is 0130." That's all that really matters. Apart from the fact he said there were going to be eight. I'd ask him about that on the flight.
"Ok, gear up, t-minus fifteen minutes and it all better be on the plane," Tak said. Me and the men moved over to the crate and broke it down, and started moving it on. We each did a part, and it all got done. Without a word it was all on.
The plane was an Arasaka-Mitsubishi Spacehawk. The sleek nose was very blunt, and the tail long and pointed. Like a gull or a small finch, with oversized wings that the body hung from. They arched up, and then descended towards the ground as they ended. In my mind it was one of the most understatedly elegant cargo planes around. But I had just been talking to the pilot so maybe he influenced me. Yeah, come to think about it, I didn't give a shit about planes. Other than if they could destroy my enemy with direct firepower I called down, as if from the heavens; or if they could get me in and out safely. Duh. But it looked in good shape, was alegedly stealthy, tough, and even had a parachute survival system.
Fifteen minutes later I was geared up and talking with Tak on the bird. He'd just finished the biefing as we were taxiing down the tarmack. Each of the men were studying a building layout, satelite photos of the grounds, a road map of the city, and a picture of Elsa Pataky. Not a very hispanic name IMHO, but who really cares about that.
The city was just south of the old US border, which put it just south of the San Diego sprawl. A dirty, dry river ran underground through tunnels beneath the six levels of the plex. This river, now really just a sewer, used to be known as the River Tiajuana, or Rio Tijuana. I don't know why the kens leave out the a... But after you came in from the west coast about 1 mile, the river turned southeast. At that point, the city's six major roads paralleled it. Three north of the river, three south. All these six roads ran northwest to southeast. Crossing them were six more roads running perpendicular. Around these twelve roads there is a giant six layered super highway bypass. The bypass was the West Coast Corridor, and it was on the 6th level, it had eight MagLev trains running in each direction, and six oil pipelines under neath them. It ran from the Exxon Canal in old panama up the west coast to the Alaska-Siberia bridge and the massive natural resource reserves beyond, and down through Kamatchka and to the Chiese and Japenese mainland beyond. On our side ran all the way to the oil fields in Peru. Some said it would someday ring the pacific. That high, you could see the sun, and begin to think that the concrete and steel landscape below you was somehow the ground and not five more layers of filth and poverty.
But it was.
"I said I would give you the eight," Tak said over the intercom. He must have been talking for some time. "But after they got wasted on their last mission, I didn't figure you'd want them."
"Good bet," I said. I didn't care how they bought it, but at this point I didn't think I could politely stop Tak.
"It was a Smash job in Arizona. Some labs for NaturalVat, guarded by a company of their "elite" guard troops." He made 'air-quotes' as he said elite. "After NaturalVat got intel we were planning a strike from some unnamed source, they dropped in their elite guards. The customer said that they were through, and it couldn't be done now. So we told them we'd do it with eight, if we got rights to the intel as well. They agreed, so the eight guys here went in and six came out."
"Tough job."
"Somebody had to do it," he said. He loved that quote.
"So how long they been a High Risk Squad? Most don't go more than three missions without loosing someone."
"They've been together for two weeks, and before last night, hadn't lost a single team member through twelve missions. They're pretty damn good."
"Sounds it. What the fuck am I doing here."
"Leading you schmoe." He looked me square in the visor. "These guys just got 25% of the wind knocked out of their sails. They think they're invulnerable, they think they can't be touched. They can. Its called a smart grenade. Both got hit with smart RPG's. So try and bring me back one or two."
"Ok, but no promises."
Tak got up and went to the cockpit. I was left thinking about what he said, and about our gear. Which we carried a lot of.
Our basic gear was all the same, we wore long johns under our dark digital camo fatigues. Along with combat boots, gloves, a titanium kinetic dive watch, a combat dirk, a folding knife, a small sidearm (usually a .357 revolver), survival kit, first aid kit, twelve ration tubes (each half a days food), and the belt with pouches on it for all that; none of it would leave our body. The street clothes we had bundled and vacuum packed in the survival kit with 10,000 Aztechnology script were our ticket home. It we stripped down this far, we were running.
Over that we wore our combat armor. These ceramic and kevlar plates covered the large flat parts of our body: the shins, and knees like catchers guards, the tops of our shoes, the tops and sides of our thighs, the sides of our hips, then our entire torso (like traditional armor), along with groin protection. On our shoulders there were curiass covers but our arms were mostly free except a plate under each forearm. We wore high neckguards, and helmets with low swoops over the ears and back of the head like the old German or US Army K-pots. Ballistic goggles and a face shield completed our protection.
Last was our mission gear, split into two groups: torso and pack. Our torso was a heavy vest, with gear pouches. Chest and hip pouches stored the ammunition for our secondary weapon, roughly 2,000 rounds for the assault rifle, and 200 rounds for each the grenade launcher and the shotgun. Our secondary was a heavy bullpup 8mm assault rifle (AR) with grenade launcher and shotgun. Our primary was in our pack, in every case it was a heavy 8mm machinegun, with a plastic case holding 10,000 rounds of ammo in linked belts and a feed tube. It was loud and rattled alot. Our third weapon was a heavy sidearm, like my Ares Predator, but each man had a favorite, and if you were down to that you might as well have a weapon you would be happy to die with in your hands. Each was silenced and we carried between 300 and 400 rounds, depending on magazine size. I had eight standard mags, and 4 extended mags; half were HP and half were APDP. All the MG rounds were 5:1 ball-tracer, and all the AR rounds were DP. All the muzzles were taped with paper tape (masking) and the breaches were taped shut too. Magazines were clipped together and we usually covered the edges with duct tape to prevent clattering.
Along with the firearms we carred eight frags each, eight thermite each, eight tear gas, eight flash-bang, and eight smoke each. Half of these were in our pack, and half we wore, tucked into our vest. The pins were cut and taped with three rounds of paper tape, so we could get the pins off fast. The concussion grenades were taped into pop cans so we could roll them into rooms easily. For more demolition, we each carried about twenty pounds of HEX6, and another ten pounds of tools, detonators, wire, crimpers, and blasting caps to make it all go boom. There was 100 ft of PETN cord, and three frame charges each. Each of us also carried a dozen little flags that said 'KEEP AWAY!!! MINE!!!' in case we had to set up any impromptu mine fields. Last were four directional mines each, like the old US Claymore. All items were split in half; half on us, and half in the pack. Last, we carried a few tools, usually an electric tool, with a hatchet, hammer, and set of vise grips. Some carried a saw, others carried a crow bar. There was two of each on the team. We didn't usually work on things, we blew them up, but sometimes you needed more.
Along with our mission gear was a role gear, which meant more explosives for the Demo guys; three radios and a satellite uplink for the comm guys (as well as some small evesdropping gear and spy stuff); medical kits, blood, plasma, a stretcher, and surgical gear for the medics; and a little bit of all of it, as well as a multi-shot anti-tank launcher for me.
We carried a lot of gear.
Believe me when I say that. We carried a lot of gear. It ammounted to about 200 lbs for each man. That put each of us over 600 lbs jump-weight as we waddled up to the back of the Arasaka-Spacehawk. With a hundred pounds of oxygen, jump rig, parachute, and reserve we were "lightly" encumbered. Every one of us had skeletal enhancement, but it was still damn heavy. My lower back was hurting like a good two hour hump with Zona.
Behind us was our armored Land Rover. Lovely british design, chip chip. It had solid rubber tires, plexiglass reinforced front windows, and a kevlar encased engine and gas tank using fifty layers of kevlar. That would probably stop a rifle shot, but after enough of them, anything would stop running. There was room for us, and about one hundred gallons of diesel. There was a mechanics toolbox and blowtorch. On the rollcage there were 360 degree flood lights, and steel confab plates for making impromptu bridges. It had a big fucking winch. It was a mans car. Ough! Ough!! It would make the parachute jump after us, and hopefully the robot brain would be smart enough to hit our landing sight and track our IR beacons down. I wasn't betting on it. At least if it hit the ground and we didn't enter the disarm code through the radio beacon, it would self destuct if it sensed human sized motion within ten feet of it.
We'd checked each other three times, three different people. The jump master had checked us. Tak had checked us. The men gave each other a thumbs up and me a middle finger. I gave them the international sign for 'blow-job'.
The jump master shouted, "STEP UP TO THE LINE," while the irridescent red light glowed behind him.
We were counting the seconds in our heads and on our internal clocks. It was like being a race horse. Four. Three. Two.
"GO! GO! GO!" he shouted as we piled out, one by one, me first.
As the door slid back, all the lights went out. I couldn't see anything, but knew the door was there, so I stepped out. The man behind me, and each behind him, had their hands on the mans pack. They just followed each other out.
16 July 2046. 0130 hours.
By the time I was out, my visor switched to night vision. I could see a sea of light below me, that stretched out in giant long fingers to the west. Those were the piers. Off to the east, maybe ten or so miles inland was a twenty-first century battle. It looked more like a eighteenth century battle. The smoke, the rockets, the red glare, all that. It was a modern attempt to create a 'fog of war' to sheild men on the ground from advanced sensors in AGV's, ACV's, UAV's, and satellite systems, as well as the sensors of the other guys on the ground. Some of it was probably sensor swarms or combat swarms, but in anything that intense a couple volleys of short range concussion rockets would take them out. Flares popped in the sky to light the area because the smoke was too thick to see through with thermal or night vision. The rebels would burn anything to foil sensors and make extensive use of dusty bombs and fuel air explosives. Add to that the rain of Anti-Aircraft (AA) fire, and the streams of tracers coming up from the ground and it was easily the Fourth of July, as they say. It was hell.
Back below me was the ocean of lights, and they were the city. The nearly continuous chain of lights, like a river, along the coast was the WCC (West Coast Corridor). Like in a long exposure photograph, if people even had cameras anymore, it moved faster than the eye could see, and since one of the sixteen tracks was always moving, it was like a flash. It was really neat. It was also funny that things were so normal here but just ten miles away the portal to the tenth layer of hell was opening up.
Enough of that. In an instant I was at terminal velocity, and into the arch. My arms and legs were out, and I struggled to keep right with this giant load. At 50,000 feet you have very little air resistance, and in fact without your dive tank of oxygen, you'd die of suffocation. Unless you had a one hour internal oxygen supply you'd charged up while in the Spacehawk's cabin. I did.
I looked at my nav beacon and altimiter on my right arm, and compared it to the superimposed map on my visor. We were in the right spot, so I set my course at a bearing of 330 and expected the guys above me to follow. I saw one of them, probably Black drop below me for a second, but then he braked hard and got back in line. A tough maneuver. After a thirty minute drop, the lights were getting really close, and I'd picked out the building architecture and shape passing 5,000 ft.
Now it was go time, doing a paradrop into a city was risky, you hovered overhead for a long time and people could see you. Which was why it was up to me to do what I did next.
I passed the 2,000 foot point without opening my chute. I hit 1,000 feet and pulled the rip cord. The chute blew open, and the cell filled immeadietly. There was a split second where you could eject your main and hit the secondary, but you'd have been at 500 feet by the time you did that. Then you would have landed were you were headed, with no time to adjust.
I didn't even have time to look up. I yanked the handles down hard to slow myself, but had to let up to correct my landing point. I arced round a highway, and passed the sixth level still going pretty fast. Two more layers down, would be the roof of a manufacturing facility. I hit it a second later. I felt the ground buckle, but I dumped my chute, and started to curl it up and I bounced and ran forward to make room for each of the next men. In succession we each hit the roof, and piled out of the way. By the time the last one was down, the first three of us had dropped our crumpeld chutes and moved to an edge with overhead cover. Ambushes were common.
16 July 2046. 0201 hours.
BOOM!! The sound of an exploding kevlar air bag ruptured the night-time air. Then the jeep hit the ground. We had to move fast, that kind of noise would draw attention, and attention meant people would see it. Then they're report us to whatever faction in this shootout they backed. The four air bags surrounding it, left the jeep upright, and the canopy was descending round it. Dobs and Black moved in, each with a machete drawn. They cut through two baloons each, and began to bundle them. The baloons went into duffles and were thrown in the jeep. That much kevlar was useful for something. Dave moved in to get behind the wheel while the three of us covered the three of them from diffrent walls above the manufacturing plant. Dave cut the parachute loose from the frame and left it where it lay, he then blew the seperation bolts to unmount the jeeps frame from the drop case, then he got in. When he was behind the wheel and Dobs and Black were in covering the front and back of the jeep, we took turns moving in to get in. I was last and hopped in the shotgun seat. Dave gunned it, "Nice ride sir."
"Damn right, now lets move," I said as we hauled off the roof of this plant, and got onto a side road on the third level. "Xeon pop a tear gas grenade as we leave, to keep everyone inside."
Xeon popped two out, and tossed them. Soon the noxious cloud was spreading throughout the open landing area. We were under cover of the fourth level, and on a deserted road. Trash and deserted vehicles lined the street, it must have been a pretty industrial because there were a fair number of drums, tubs, and shipping containers without people in them lining the streets. They were propped odd angles and clumped in disorganized groups leaving the area with a rundown feel. We passed a mountain of wooden shipping pallets and turned south, towards a main road.
A few people were out, and they barely noticed us. Dave was driving with the lights off, and Xeon was shooting out street lights as fast as he could with his suppressed heavy pistol. I would have to say, that for just making a 50,000 foot drop onto a archology sprawl, that this Land Rover jeep was pretty damn tough. It rode like a german sports car, and played a large part in Xeon being able to hit those lights. So most of the people were suprised as the lights above them went out, and then a vehicle drove by at speed.
"Sir, passing the last turn. Its two blocks ahead on the left." Dave delivered the message as much to tell me, as to tell me that he was competent at driving the urban streets of a foreign city.
"Good, make a pass on the front gate, slow to 30. When he does that Bayou, jump, and open the gate by the time we come around."
"Got it," Bayou said. It was the first word I heard him say, in fact, I could still count all the words I'd heard. Up til now it had been me and Tak talking, and they listened without question.
Dave pulled the maneuver off just fine, and Bayou jumped at just the right time. He landed standing, and sort of slid to a stop. A perfect Jumping Doorman, if I ever saw one. Dave cut the wheel, gunned it, and put us into a hard turn in the middle of the street. Meanwhile Bayou had pulled out an eighth pound of HEX6 and stuck a detonator on it with a three second slow fust. He yanked off the lighter, and hopped to the side of the main gate. BOOM!! The explosion sounded as we were in mid turn. Bayou was pushing it open, as we straightened out and headed in. "Shut the gate behind us and chain it," I said over the comm as we passed.
"Got it," Bayou said.
Driving off of the road was weird. You crossed about thrity feet of open ground, open to the levels below and above, as the street with artificial ceiling above you (really the street above) ended and you came onto a fourty foot stretch of spancrete forming "ground" around the Arasaka building. This would give the building the look of like a seven level lazy susan. I say seven because the Arasaka one rose one level out of the sprawl before turning completely into an office building and extending another twenty stories into the sky. But being twenty stories tall didn't make it special. This entire area was full of buildings, large and small, as well as a fair number of pipe-farms. A pipe-farm is an industrial facility with a preponderance of pipes and plumbing for some industrial process. There were also a couple smoke stacks. The whole area, had a sort of artfical face of the moon feeling.
As we pulled in, I could see people in the windows looking at us. We drove around the artificial lot, and came up to a set of windowed doors. "This is Arasaka Security Detachment Roku," I broadcast over the radio. "We've come to secure the facility, clear the main entry way, copy," I said a second later.
"Ahhh, umm, ah, great, this is Elsa Pataky, we're soooo glad you're here."
Her voice sounded genuinely releived, and a bit frazzled.
"Sir, 85% positive on Elsa, and that she is telling the truth." Xeon let me know he was monitoring voice stress over the comms.
"Good, report only if she is lying." I liked the guy more by the minute. "Bayou, report on the front gate."
"Gate shut, proceeding to your location for linkup."
"Good." I said. We were pretty informal. We could chatter as much as we wanted over these comms, they were the latest in Ares encryption technology. If they got more than 10 ft from out personal location beacon, they would ignite and smolder, then catch fire and become useless.
As we finished talking, the Land Rover pulled up to the windowed doors and stopped. There was no one inside now, but I saw a head or two poke through doors inside that room. They were curious, but I didn't see any firearms, so we'd proceed. "Xeon, get that door. Pick only. Harry, cover him."
"Roger."
"Got it," came back from the two of them. They got out and moved towards the door. The rest of us got out and formed a perimiter around the Land Rover, including Dave, so it was completely empty. We ringed it, watching in every direction, including up and down, because the urban environment was a three dimensional environment and a dangerous one. A stopped jeep was a tempting target for a rebel with an RPG.
Xeon worked at the door four about 5 seconds then opened it, and scanned the inside. "All clear," he radioed back.
"Three man teams, move in, I'm with team two." I'd let the first team go in, and then the four of us would move in.
"First floor secure," called Xeon from inside over the comm. He was team one with Harry and Black.
"Team two entering," I replied. We moved in, and could see none of them in the room, but knew which hallway they went down. The office folks were still around, and one or two peeked up from behind desks or counters, to which we would yell, "Heads Down."
Once I was in the center of the first floor and had checked the floor, the elevators, and the stairwells I thought it was time to find who was in charge. Over the comm I radioed, "Call out for the head administrator. They are to report to the center plaza." Which is where I was. Inside the square building, with its flat decks extending out as false ground, there was an empty plaze that was visible from the interior walkway that ringed each floor. This way every floor had a view of the sky above, and got some measure of sunlight. There were a few plants, and it was actually a little nice. Meanwhile over the comm, I got six acknowledgements.
While I waited, I positioned the team. I put Bayou up on the roof with his cameras to set up an overwatch umbrella. He could get to the ground fastest, he was a jumper. I told Black to hold the "ground" floor, which meant the first one under the sky if you were outside; yeah it was weird, cuz it wasn't really the ground. I put Dobbs and Dave on revolving partols around the five lower floors. Last I put Xeon in the basement, the level that was closest to the foundation. This way he could come up on our enemies from below if they were stupid enough not to attack from the foundation level. Each set up their own circuit of micro cameras so they could monitor all the hallways even if they weren't there, and look around corners in their HUDs without having to stick their barrel around the corner. As commander, I could monitor all their cameras. About five minutes later Harry called on the Comm, "Harry plus one entering."
"Enter," I said.
He and Elsa walked in the room. She was about three steps in front of him and she was sweating profusely despite the cool dry seventy degree climate controled air. Having a seven foot psycho with a eighteen pound assault cannon behind you must do that to some people. She looked prettier in real life than in her picture. Its funny how cameras work like that, the lighting, the way her face was angled, whatever. I'm no photographer, but I know hot, and she was. Now not Zona hot, but she was a looker for sure. Which would of course make this harder.
"Reporting with Elsa Pataky as ordered."
Harry actually spoke. No comms. His voice was deep and baritone. She actually jumped a little as he spoke, it was the first any of us had spoken since we entered the building. Which was a calculated move. All this black and velcro and scarry goggles and not talking and acting like a robot scared people. They thought we were from the moon and were emotionless killing machines and that is what we wanted. But I get verbose.
"Dismissed," he walked out of sight, but remained on overwatch. Harry was the floater in the whole plan. "Hello Miss Pataky, we've come to secure the facility. Could you please show me to the fifth floor security room, I would like to use your access key."
She looked confused for a second, time to press the fast talk.
"I would like you to show me to the fifth floor security room to secure the facility. I need your key to authenticate."
My voice was mechanical, and I spoke with as little emotion as possible. She sort of snapped out of it. "Ummm," she stammered.
"The fifth floor Miss Pataky."
"Yes, ah.. ok." Then she turned and walked to the elevator.
"Lets use the stairs, its is more secure that way." And it would keep her out of breath and a little tired.
"Sure," was all she said. I walked more beside her than Harry to win her over. We walked up the two flights of stairs on the south side of the plaza as I drilled her with questions.
"Are you the senior person here?"
"Yes."
"Have you had any deaths or persons killed in attacks?"
"No, should we be worried about that?"
"Yes. Has anyone not showed up for work?"
"Yes, do you think they're dead?"
"Ma'am, I cannot see all ends, but I suggest you try to contact them, but do not send anyone outside of the building. If you reach them they should make their way here. Does anyone, including you, have family outisde the facility?"
"No."
"Is any of your communications working?"
"No, not other than our office radios, which you called in on."
Over the comms I said, "Xeon, begin jamming the office radios that we communicated with them on, in ten minutes."
"Roger that."
"Do you have anyone from the security detail still here?"
"No."
"Do you have access to the security room?"
"No, they locked it when they left."
"The idiots. Now have you noticed anyone loitering outside the facility since the departure and do you think anyone noticed them leave?"
"Uh, yeah, now that you mention it, maybe." She started to look really worried.
"Have there been any alarms since they left?"
"No, none."
"Good, we're at the fifth floor, please take out your key."
She fumbled for a second inside her business suit jacket and then took it out. "Here ya go."
I took the swipe key and walked to the security door. One swipe later, I was in. This was too easy. I thought about it being an ambush for a second, but wrote it off. Inside the light outer door was a small anter room which had a very heavy plate ceramic door (and walls, duh) with an imposing looking keypad. "Verify the code Miss Pataky."
"What?" she asked me quizically.
"Verify the code. The code, verify the code for security."
"Arasaka sent you?"
"Yes ma'am, Arasaka sent me, but this is an Aztechnology owned facaility. Please verify the code for security." I played it as deadpan as I could, and acted scary.
"One, One, eighteen." She looked decidedly uneasy. Like I'm going to screw her or something...
"Good," I typed it in, swiped the card, and opened the door. If it was gonna blast me, so be it. Inside the big chamber of the security room was the typical command bridge look of an advanced electrical control center. Holographic displays showed a tactical map of the battle to the east, and it looked closer now. I was looking at it, but not turning my head towards it. Cha-ching! After starring at it for a couple minutes, Elsa walked in as I strode in. I walked straight to the back, and into the command room. I took off my pack and set it down, from in the main outside rear pouch I drew a padded sealed case. I set it on the desktop. I turned to my rear and opened the case on the central computer.
EEEEH!! EEEEEH! EEEEEH!
The lights in the room went red, as the siren started. Elsa gasped. Some gas slipped out of the case as I swung the door open. Inside is what I call a 'Big-fuckin-pile-of-unintelligible-wire', and it was. I don't know how any geek could figure this out, but have no doubt they could. Like magic. But with less scales. I reached in, and took out a large black obelisk looking slab of opaque glass. It sat on a fiberoptic thing-a-majig and a lot of light shot out as I lifted it up. Oh well. It was kind of heavy, and held all the data on the Arasaka data net in this hemisphere. While, I was tempted to smash it on the floor, cuz I'm a hater, I decided it would do me more good in Tak's hands.
"Ahhh. What are you doing?"
"I've come to secure the facility." I said to her.
"What do you mean secure the facility?" she asked, with a powerful does of incredulity.
"I mean take this data, and return it to the Diamo of Arasaka in Tokyo." I slipped the glass data crystal into the protective case.
"What!! Who the hell ordered that!" She shouted.
"The issuing agent was my superior, I am not privy to his orders." That was one of my favorite ones, I've broken approximately five noses when I've heard it.
SLAP!! "You son-of-a..." she stopped as I rose to my full height and picked the bag up, standing over her.
"I have to go now. Move." Like a mountain I stood there. If I scared her just enough, I could get her into the Jeep by a last minute promise of getting her out of this hell.
"What about all of us? There are mothers and children in this facility." I walked by as I shouldered my pack. "We have families outside who can pay!" I continued out the door. She chased after me as I walked back out to the balcony overlooking the plaza two levels below. I walked around the railing towards the stairs. She hopped up beside me and tried to step in front, I just walked by. "Please, don't go!!" She shreiked. I walked on. I had a jeep to get to. She ran to catch up, and was walking backwards infront of me with tears in her eyes. "What was all that on the walk up here? In the stairwell? You were asking about our families?" She sobbed a couple deep breaths. "You were concerned about US!!"
I stopped, and looked her straight in the eyes. "That was free advice." I walked past her.
She dropped to her knees and wailed as she dropped her face to her hands and cried.
She cried goddamnit. So loud. What was it about that pitch, or that yell that did this to me. Was it that she was pretty or that it was a pittiful weak cry. Did this happen to all men. I don't know. Would an ugly girl with less voluptuous breasts have the same effect on me. Elsa certaily wasn't that girl, her angelic face reminded me of a less sleek, more round faced Zona. Heavy on the cute, but her tears had the same effect. Every guy on the team could hear this, why did she have to cry on the railed balconies around the central plaze. Shit.
I was halfway down the hallway, and rounding the corner when I stopped. I guess I could stay and help for a while, then bring her back with the data. It was technically within the mission parameters, and we had lots of bullets.
"All teams report it," I said over the comm as I was looking back at her kneeled down in the hallway crying. Her backside looked good.
"Black, ground floor secure. Many vehicle drive-bys. No lookers. All but ten are single driver vehicles."
"Bayou, smoke clouds moving this way, fighting headed this way."
"Dobs, hallways clear. Doors secure."
"Dave, ditto."
"Harry, just down the hall from you, same thing you got."
"Xeon, boring. Nothing. Wished I had a bich."
"Good," it sounded like they wanted action and Xeon was actually starting to come around and open up. "Most secure room?" I asked over the comm.
"Xeon here, the basement is the only floor with a concrete roof. The central room has no access to the plaza, it also has nothing below it. Pick a corner room, and you've got two solid walls. There are two of those corner rooms opposite of the basement level access. Its mainly shipping down here, so there are lots of metal containers I could use to build up a hell of a defense. I could probably hold off a large reinforced company for a week, ten days tops. Rooms A2 and A5 are the north and south room respectively."
Yup, he was definetly opening up. "Any other ideas?" Crickets on the comm. "Good. Black, get down there and help Xeon shore up his defense. Close off the other accesses to other levels." I closed the comm and spoke to Elsa. "Move all your people to the basement level and get them into rooms A2 and A5. Bring nothing but food, water and blankets." She looked back with an amazed look in her eyes, unable to believe what she was hearing.
16 July 2046. 0400 hours.
Elsa had moved everyone into the downstairs corner rooms like I'd ordered, and now she wanted me to come down there and see everyone. I acquiesed to get her to quiet up. I'd had to leave Black down there just to keep an eye on them, but I needed him in the basement anyways. She tried to take my arm for the fourth time as we were coming to the first room, I just shook her hand off. "I want to introduce you to the staff," she said.
"What for?" I asked. I knew why, to make me feel guilty.
"So they can thank you. Your staying here is going to save us."
"Just make it fast."
"Well what's your name?"
"Classified."
"Mr. Classified?" she said with a pretty smirk on her face.
"No, that information is classified."
"Mr. Nothat-Informationiz-Classified?" She pretended to be confused, but was warming my heart. "That's a long name." She giggled.
Damn her. "You can call me 178."
"What the hell is that?"
"My unit member designation."
She stopped about twenty feet from the door, "Oh my god, you mean you're just a number."
I stopped and stared back at here. I'm going to bet I win the staring contest.
She snapped her eyes off my visor in about 0.2 seconds, and started walking.
"Or Leftenant will do." I had to give her something, being introduced as 178 may make me sound smart, but holy crap that was pitiful.
We walked on and she opened the door to the room, and a sea of people were before me. I could hear the air conditioner straining to keep the room cool, but that did little for the smell of a hundred sweaty people. The sun was getting ready to rise, so it was getting hot. We walked inside and they parted, I made a mental note of all my gear, and ran my hand over all my grenades to switch them to inactive.
She made a forced clearing her throat noise to get everyone's attention. "Everyone, quiet down. I'd like to introduce you to the leader of the security team." She gestured at me. "This is the leftenant."
It was quiet in the room. I thought to myself At times like this I wish I'd been a banker, I like money. Or maybe I should have been an engineer, I liked trains. Cuz how in the fuck did I end up as a mercenary helping people all the damn time. This was perhaps my worst introduction ever.
One of the young guys in the front, looked like a college grad MBA punk, he said "Thanks." Then the older lady beside him said it too. In back a middle aged lady with a nice blouse chimed in. Elsa led me through the room, and as we walked everyone started adding in. Some said more, some less. I was being overwhelmed. Without eyes, I can't cry, but the dry sobs can still happen, and I can still get all choked up; and there is no cybernetic implant to shut this off. Time to go. I turned back towards to door, Elsa opened it, and I walked out and shut her in the room behind me. We kept our faces painted black on this mission, and my beard was under my balaclava, so I barely looked like a man, but I'm sure if I'd said anything my voice would have cracked, which I can't let happen.
"Hey Chief." Black's deep voice had sort of snuck up beside me. You wouldn't think a 400 plus pound fucker could sneak, but he just prooved he could. "They gonna be ok in there?"
I did one big sniff, maybe he wouldn't catch on. "Yeah they're fine. Move a continer in front of each door to prevent over-penetration if there is a fight in this room."
He looked at my face hard, he could see. "I always knew you old timers were a bunch of weepy eyed mutha fuckas."
"I just got a wif of a chemical down here."
"Its ok Sir, yer doin the right thing. We been on alot of missions, none like this. We know what we're fighting for now."
I patted him on the shoulder, "Just get those containers moved."
"I'll put two in front of each door, and a couple perpendicular to each one. It'll be a maze of death."
I believed him. "Then be sure to bring the jeep in, put it up on the fourth."
"Yessir."
16 July 2046. 0832 hours.
We were in the heat of the day now, and it would stay hot like this for another eight hours; then if we were lucky the temperature would drop down below 100. Dobs had just called me up to the roof, so I was running up the ten flights of stairs at ten miles per hour to see what was so important. I'd moved him to the roof once the sun was up so we could use his lenses. I stopped one floor down and called on the comm, "One coming out. Prone, crouch or upright?"
"Prone."
That meant I had to crawl around on my belly like a snake. Probably to blend in with the gravel on the roof, which meant the rooves were crawling with snipers. We'd switched to our desert brown khaki pull overs and a ghille suit to cover our black gear vests. So out the upperstory door I went, Dobs had taken it off its hinges to no one would see us going in and out, and I crawled slow to the edge of the roof where I saw him. When I got there I asked him what he had.
"Well, the roof lines are crawling with snipers and rocket teams from the local rebels. I sort of wonder where they get their hardware, but it looks like Dynatronics, Krupp, or Glock-SigAarms. That being said there are still lots and lots of Klashnikovs and RPGs."
"Some things never go out of style huh?" I said with a smile.
"Yessir."
"How many?" I asked with a dead-pan serious look.
"Eighty seven," he said. I let that hang there in the air as I pretended to ponder my next move, or like I was considering if I should let him open fire or order him back inside. He looked anxious. Then as it dragged out to a minute, I could see he was planning his rebuff or his counter. I started to open my mouth, when he busted out, "I know I can get at least 75% of them sir!"
"I know you can. Start with the western ones first. If it gets too hot up here, ask for us to smoke a building. Single shots only. Use the heavy barrel and the suppressor." He smiled a big kid like grin.
"Yessir. I won't let you down sir."
"You better not. Sixty minimum." I then crawled back inside and was leisurely walking back down the stairs when Dobs came back on the comm.
"Firing solution entered and ranges entered. Prepared to commence firing."
"Have at them."
Then the phone rang. Caller ID: THE INPUT Z. Great. "Hey babe," I said with a smile on my face. She said she could tell if I was smiling or not.
"Hey big and handsome, what are you smiling about?" she said with a cheerful tone, I bet she was smiling too.
"I just ordered sixty to eighty rebels killed," I said with a smile. She started giggling.
"Quit joking," she laughed some more that laugh I loved, "No really."
"Just buisness as usual, the run is going fine, we're almost past the central code block." I didn't know what that meant, but neither therefore did she.
"Great, great," she said only mildly intrested. "I was lonely and wanted to talk."
BANG! BANG! BANG! The staccato of Dobs' sixty-eight caliber heavy rifle firing wouldn't come through the internal microphone I hoped. "Three down!" he called over the radio.
"GO DOBS!" Harry called over the radio. I couldn't help but notice the irony that the medic was summarily executing people.
Zona continued, "I'm worried about us."
"Do you mean us as our relationship or us as in our continues survival in a post-apocalyptic world?"
"The end of the world, duh." BANG! BANG!
I could picture her tilting her head at me.
"Well I'm not, I mean we were going to die eventually anyways."
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Thats eight," Dobs informed us. I figured the men had a pool going.
"Yeah, but not til we were like a hundred. We haven't even had-" I cut that off.
"Did you know that the average lifespan of the average cyborg is only five years?"
"That's combat cyborg," she said, "and yes, I did. I told you that."
"Facts schmackts. So then how am I expected to live to be a hundred if I'm not ninety-five now?" I asked.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
"By quitting your profession of combat cyborging."
"But babe, cyborging isn't a verb in the Merium-Webster-Wikipedia dictionary." I smiled my big fucking sharky grin. Half cuz I knew that would piss her off, and half cuz now Dobs was at seventeen.
"Not the point love sausage," she said with the tone of finality.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Come on!" I said.
She giggled, "What?"
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Anything you want Babe." Dirty jokes always could steer the conversation from that.
"Now really, when you going to be home?" she sounded concerned now.
"I told you four days, I'm bringing home the bacon so don't worry. Worrying won't get you anything." or buying the farm.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Thirty three!! WOO HOO!!" shouted Dave on the comm.
"What's that noise in the background?" she asked.
"Garbage compactor." I moved through the Augmented Reality on my visor and turned down the outside dampening. The last thing I needed was for her to record this and have the sound profile matched on something like Guns.Google.com or something. Shit.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Ok, now how are we going to get through this?"
"This being that apocalypse thing?"
"Yes, honey bunny."
"You know if the other combat cyborgs hear you calling me that I'll loose all respect."
"Aww, I'm so sowwy," she said in a baby voice.
I chuckled.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
"But about that apocalypse thing, I think we're going to hole up in the city for a while, and then go to Seattle."
"Seattle? Of all the non-sequitur things I've ever heard you say? What does that have to do with the apocalypse?"
"Hey babe, if you're going to use big words infront of stupid army man, please define them. Cuz I think one or two of those were run ons."
"Uggghh!" she squealed. "a fallacy resulting from a simple conversion of a universal affirmative proposition or from the transposition of a condition and its consequent."
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"What?" I asked.
"How did you get from 'survive the apocalypse' to 'seattle'? I don't get it," she asked.
"YEAH!!! GOO DOBBS!! FOURTY-SEVEN BAY-BEE!!!" Blacks massively deep baritone rocked the comm.
"Oh, well it looks like fourty-seven-" Shit
"What?"
"Fourty seven mintues the damn crack has been working on that code cylinder. Sorry, my mind was somewhere else for a second. He told me fourty-five."
"You want me to let you get back to work honey?"
Her voice was so sweet, I wish I was there to bend-- "No, I'll keep talking, he'll get done when he gets done." BANG! BANG! BANG! "Like I was saying, it seems Seattle has something to do with this. At least in as much as the MMPORPG connections of many people in that shitty game who have disappeared from reality and died like Moe lead to the Corp HQ of that game company."
"Moe isn't dead."
"Sorry babe, if I can't see him, or talk to him, and only see him on a computer terminal, which have been known to have tricky AI, he's dead."
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Smoke tower bearing 225, range 200 yards, floors six through eighteen," Dobs said over the radio, "taking heavy fire."
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
I switched channels on the comm, "I got floors six and seven," I called. Bayou and and Dave picked three floors each, and Harry, the floater got another three. The other two held their positions.
"That's awful cold of you Shark." I jogged while I talked to the east windows and took cover behind a pillar about twenty feet in from the windows. "I mean, he's just a kid," I slapped a clip of CS HV (CS is a tear gas that attacks your skin and lungs) grenades (and HV is high velocity) into the magazine on my grenade launcher under the barrel beside my underbarrel shotgun on my assault rifle. Yes, it was a large assault rifle. "Everyone likes him, and you shouldn't disrespect his memroy like that," it sounded like I hit a nerve. I turned the dampener way up on my microphone. I fired three shots and rolled. "He's your friend isn't he honey?"
"Yes he is," I tried to answer as I hit the ground and hopped to the next pillar.
"Why are you grunting?" Zona asked.
I fired three more shots, dropped the mag and slapped in another, "Just doing some calesthenics in the command room to keep limber." I dove, rolled and hopped to the next pillar as I started taking return fire.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Dobs was getting quite a few as they poked their heads up to return fire at us. Then it was quiet. Except for Zona.
"Yes, you're right babe, I miss the little horny bastard. We'll get him back or I'll kill everyone that had a hand in it."
"Good," she said.
"I'm sorry I wrote him off, its easier for me."
"Seventy five, confirmed kills," Dobs said.
"WOO HOO!!!" the comm echoes with their shouts.
"The garbage compactor stopped."
"Yeah, its done for now. It'll probably run again tonight."
"You'd think they could make something quieter," she said.
"Its actually pretty quiet for a compactor as big as it is. I mean it makes my tool look small."
"TMI," she said.
I chuckled. "Love ya."
"See ya when you get back honey," she ended with and hung up.
"Good work Dobs, displace and find a spot on the top story to keep an eye out. They're gonna be shooting at the roof all night hoping for lucky shots. How many hits did you take?"
"Five. None serious sir."
"Harry, get to the top floor and check him out. Plug him. Patch him. Tell me time to expiration and where you're at, I'll cover your gap."
"I'm on southwest corner or eight." Which meant the second floor above the 'top' or 'artificial ground'.
July 16 2046. 1200 hours.
I had just finished a deliscious tube of nutrient paste when I heard footsteps walking up behind me. I turned and took cover behind a wood tree planting in the Plaza and aimed at the door it was coming from.
Elsa Pataky walked out and screamed when she saw all three barrels on my assault rifle, and almost dropped to the floor.
"Easy!" I shouted at her and lowerd the muzzles. I hopped over to her, and held a hand down to help her.
"Oh, my god!! You scared me! How long were you waiting there?" she asked as she grapped two fingers and I pulled her up.
"About five seconds."
"You're that fast?" she asked.
I ignored her and switched comm channels. "Harry, report." He poked his head from around the corner she had just walked out.
"I followed her up here," he answered over the comm and then disappeared around the corner again. She didn't even know she was followed.
She changed the subject, "We were eating lunch downstairs and I asked the big black guy if I could bring you some. He said no, but that I could go stretch my legs up here in the Plaze."
I knew what he was thinking. "Good, a nice walk is good."
She sat down on a bench. "What do you know about the rebels here?"
"They're armed with European Corp and American Empire weapons and vehicles, it looks like they have combat robots, and lots of dumb cheap high explosive rockets."
She looked at the ground. "So now that I meant," she said to no one in particular. Then she looked back up at me and continued, "No, what are they fighting for."
"They fight to oppose the Aztechnology exploitation of the working class."
"Pretty good," she said with a smile.
"Know thy enemy." I didn't grin.
"Even though we're all Aztechnology, we have sympathy for them, but now that things have gotten violent they'll kill us on site if they get in here."
"Yup." Then Dobs came on the radio.
"Sir, large force moving this way. I count four technicals heavily armored, and about thrity men. Looks like it could be a recon in force. They up on the ground. About ten block away, moving slow and cautious."
I pretended to remain silent while talking on the radio. "Ok, everyone get ready to move, Harry, Bayou, and me are going to go ambush them. Everyone else stay where they are and hold the faciliy.
July 16 2046. 1235 hours.
We'd run out of the facility on the fifth floor, to stay in the shade of the street level above. Heading due east, we move about two blocks out, rounded the corner and started heading east towards them, paralleling their course. Dobs called out the streets and we turned up and ramp to the ground level. First to peel off was Harry, I'd seen a 20ft box van and said for him to get behind it as cover and push it at them on fire, while shooting. Then Bayou got up on the second story of a building, back in the shadows to use the window as a shooting slit. From the far side of the room, it gave him a narrow field of fire, but it would do. I kept going and got parallel of them. I would be breaking any flanking force, which they'd probably send left, because they were right handed.
Now we waited.
"Harry here. I got them. 200 yards down the road."
"Roger that," I called on the comm. "Check your silencer. Go to your primary. Single shots only. Start the van on fire now."
"Copy."
More waiting.
"Bayou here, I got them too, coming straight at me. I have a 80 yard field of fire on their front of advance."
"Check your silence too Bayou. Single shots only. Open fire."
I saw two of the rebels go down. Then two more. Then they all reacted. Pouring fire into the direction of my men. I saw one yelling orders. I aimed. In my peripheral I saw eight get up and head towards me. I was in a good spot, just my head up over a dumpster, and bags of garbage on either side of it. I pulled the trigger. The leaders head disappeared in a red cloud. "Enemy leader down." I called on the radio, then, "Flankers coming my way," as I ducked. I watched them approach in my cam I had beside the garbage can.
As the lead runner came parallel to me I fired my shotgun into his gut, knocking him against the far wall of the alley. I stepped out firing the shotgun in my right, and the Predator in my left, in a crouch. I hit five and six went down with chest wounds. The last tried to fire at me but I rolled foward and came up on the far wall. I pivoted and fired the predator at him once, and he went down. My followup shot was at his buddy yelling from a gut wound. Then he went down.
I backed out the alley as I trained my weapons on the main body, which was now advancing down the street. When I was around the corner I reloaded the Predator and holstered it. I went in the back door of the building they were passing. As I walked in, I passed a few scared civilians. "Get the hell out the back," I yelled. They did. On the comm I said, "Use your 1 in 5 tracers to shoot the tires, radiators, and gas tanks. Stop their vehicles."
"Right."
"Roger."
I poked my head around a final corner, and saw three taking cover in the ground floor. I shot all of them til they quit moving. Then out the front window of the building, I opened fire on three til I dropped them. The recon troops returned fire, and I fell back, and went out the back. I tossed one frag into the front room as I left, to disuade any persuers.
Once outside, I checked the cam I left behind, the alley was still empty. So I continued west with body of the recon group and at the next corner I shot four more.
"Sir, they're pulling back." Harry said on the comm.
"Keep up your fire until they're out of sight, but do not persue."
I waited in the alley, watching and listening. Then Harry came back on again.
"Sir, there are no more falling back, just wounded in the street. We got them all."
"Let the wounded be, fall back to the south rally point."
1320 hours.
Back at the office building, we gathered and redistributed ammo. We had fired sixty shots all together. I had told the men I thought their shooting was a little sloppy, they said some of them were wearing body armor. We chuckled.
Three more times this happened before 1700 hours. Each time we went out, and came back another fifty or a hundred rounds down. They lost everyone every time as far as we could tell. But each time their recon was in an area near us, it was only so long before they figured out where we were, and we couldn't move. If our goal had been to deny them this side of town, we probably could have done it for a week. They'd find us some time tomorrow.
1800 hours.
After two more Recons in Force, we were back at the office again. This time Bayou got hit in the side of the head, it was messy, but Harry said he'd last another couple days. That made two of us wounded, him and Dobs. We were the only three going out, and we were getting tired. Harry gave us some Go drugs for the night to make sure none of us fell asleep.
Elsa had come up to the Plaza again, and was sitting watching us count out ammo. We wiped blood and bits off of each other. We repainted our faces black, and took off our day camo. I said to both them men, to take up positions on the ground floor.
"You got it boss," they both said back. As Harry walked by he patted her head. She smiled.
"You and your men don't talk much do you?"
I sat down beside her. "I'll tell you a trade secret," Cuz I feel bad about what I'm going to do. I didn't add. "But we have subvocal radios. We talk all the time. We're never out of contact. We act like a team and keep in close touch, so its like having six sets of eyes along with you when you're on the move."
"Wow!" she said.
"Don't tell anyone, or I'll have to kill you." I said it without a smile, then patted her leg to get the scared look off her face.
"Would you take your helmet off?" she asked.
"What for?" I asked, wanting not too.
"I just want to see who you are. I mean, I haven't seen the face with the voice yet." She smiled a pretty innocent smile, and looked down at her feet after she had said it.
I thought about it. The guys would think I was a chump. I could also get shot if there was a sniper in the building. But that seemed a ways out there. "It can only get me killed," I said.
She looked up at my face as I unstrapped the helmet after flipping up the visor. Then I was wearing goggles over my visor, but with a Balaclava. I pulled off the goggles, and she still hadn't made a sound. Then I took off the balaclava. She gasped. I set it beside me with the rest of my stuff (but my rifle was still on my lap). She stared at my visor for a second, then reached her hand up to touch. She felt around the visor, "It doesn't come off?" she asked with a touch of awe and horror.
"Nope. On there to stay."
She rubbed my cheek. "How do you live like that?" Then put her hand on her lap.
"No different than you do. It all looks the same."
She sat there in silence for a couple minutes, looking up at the light above. I started to clean my rifle with the kit in the stock.
I heard her sniff once. Whatever.
"You know you look familiar?" she said after another minute or two.
"Really?" I said, "I don't usually get that. But it is nice to have the headgear off for a while."
"I saw you down in the morgue."
"Now that just isn't nice." I can't really glare at people, but I furrowed my forehead and pointed my visor at her.
"No really, they brought in an assault team a couple days ago and I had to sign for the bodies. It was you."
"Care to prove it? I mean, people just don't get up from the dead." Except on two occasions I have personally witnessed, not counting the vampires.
"Ok, thats you calling me a liar."
"No really, lets go look. It might help you sleep better." She agreed and we got up and walked that direction. I took all my headgear and followed her. "Going to the morgue," I called over the Comm.
"Ohhh, kinky," Black called back.
"Plug it," I said. I bet he was still laughing though.
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