Onyx Tower, Golden Row
Red Zone
2232-08-11
1845
“Remember, past the armor. you need around two to three shots center mass for a confirmed kill. Keep away from full auto, they run out a lot faster than you think. Do tactical reloads as often as you can. Also, you’re going to be the one who’ll be doing the heavy lifting. I won’t be able to swing this around as much so I’ll be here for support. I’ll try and keep their heads down if I can. Do your best to wipe them all out. Do it as fast as you can manage, but be ready to take it slow the moment we hit a snag. Ready?”
Marcus nodded. “Yeah.”
“Who’s there?” A voice echoed down the hall. Marcus switched his rifle on his weak side for a left hand peek and saw just enough to see a sliver of a man walking towards him. Pulling his head back, his heart raced in anticipation of a firefight. He played Airsoft and Paintball before, where the penalty of getting 'killed' would only be a walk down to respawn, nursing your stings and welts as you go. Here, respawn would come hours later with heavy penalties. Worse would be disappointing his friend and wasting his time.
Listening at the footsteps moving closer, he took a deep breath to try and push away the nerves and flicked his safety off. His rifle already braced on his shoulder, he waited a couple seconds more as the Raider walked cautiously forward to his position. With a mental go, Marcus quickly peeked around and centered the holographic reticle on the man’s surprised face.
With a single suppressed shot, the man fell on his back. His body hit the ground in a dull thump that sounded much louder against the silence inside the building. Listening for any reaction, Marcus' electronic headphones picked up no reactions.
"Looks like you're clear." Arthur muttered.
Looking around the corner, Marcus found another floor plan. It was straightforward, the hallway ran down the length of the building, flanked by office space and meeting rooms. Still it could only provide an idea as looking down the length of the hall showed a hole punched in the middle of the floor ahead of them, along with a barricade spanning the whole hallway and blocking the way forward. Checking the plan once more, it seemed that they would have to go through one of the rooms to continue down the hall. What lays on the other side, they would have to find out for themselves.
Peeling off the corner, Marcus led their stack. The two moved down the hall with him covering the doors to the left half of the hallway while Arthur covered the right.
“Hallway left. Open door.” Marcus muttered, seeing the room to his left. His aim shifted from down the hallway to the open door and he flicked his light to see that it was a simple cubby. Inside, it filled with stocks of cleaning supplies with wires trailing from the walls and into the floor along with the ceiling panels missing. Past them showed more wires trailing overhead and lengths of colored pipes. “Small room. Clearing.”
“Go.” Arthur said behind him.
Marcus pied the door looking for anyone standing inside, trusting Arthur to cover the hallway. The light revealed only bits of cleaning supplies strewn on the ground and no hostiles lying in wait,
“Clear.” Marcus announced, turning around and went on ahead. The two continued down the hall, checking each room they come across but found nothing. They then reached the hole in the floor which led straight to the floor below. Cutting through wires, pipes and six inches of concrete, it looked to have been blown up using some controlled explosives as whatever blew the hole in the ground didn't spread any large cracks around the rest of the floor.
Stepping around, they reached the barricade to where they started to hear something. On the other side, they could hear faint breathing along with crunching and scuffing of fabric. They were slow, cautious. Marcus turned to Arthur who signaled an ambush. In the room to their right, they could see through the open door that a wall had been blown open allowing passage around the barricade. Slowly, they cleared the room from what they could see from the outside. They paused, looking at the hole in the wall and both knew that they would be lit up the moment they go through. Contesting whoever is waiting on the other side is a losing proposition, they needed to be creative.
Marcus looked around for what they could work with and found that even though the barricade covered the whole span of the hall, it didn't reach all the way up to the ceiling. Marcus then tapped Arthur on the shoulder and pointed it out. Arthur grinned and tapped high on his chest. It was the location where they both kept their grenade pouches. Pulling one out of his vest, Arthur handed one over and continued covering the hole in the wall.
Marcus clutched the grenade, his knuckles creaked at how tight he held the explosive. He didn’t serve, but he spent some time off his vacation back in south east Asia paying the locals to shoot up machineguns, launch RPG-7 rockets and throw grenades into empty rice paddies, refusing to shoot up a live water buffalo offered as a target and the 500-dollar price tag that came with it.
He wasn't a bad ass, nor a movie actor who would pull the pin off a grenade with his teeth. Him doing so would only have him pulling his pearly whites. Looping his fingers around the ring like everyone else, he tugged, the pin bent free and Marcus could feel the spring pressure from the grenade spoon. Hoping that the grenade wouldn’t slip from his hand, he let go of the spoon which flew off and clattered on the ground.
Marcus counted a second before chucking the grenade through the gap on the barricade and into the other side. Reaching for his vest, he followed up with another grenade of his own.
Metal hitting concrete was audible enough, followed by the panicked shouts on the other side. The second grenade landed on the ground soon after, followed shortly by a dull thump and a plume of dust jetting through gaps to their side.
Rifle in hand, Marcus headed to the other room and stepped past Arthur just as the second grenade went off. More dust blew from the room on the other side of the barricade and he speed into the other side, planning to capitalize on the opening the explosion provided them. Lights on, Marcus swept both sides of the room, just as a black figure stepped into view, clutching his head. Dust trailed him as he stumbled forward and blood seeped through his arms and down his ears. He looked up towards the light with a blank stare. A second later, his confusion switched to realization and fear as he tried to turn and stumble away.
Marcus, already finger on the trigger, sent a pair of shots high center mass and watched as dust shook off the man. Bullets tore through his neck and lower jaw as the man fell on his back. Marcus stepped forward, sweeping for any stragglers that might have survived the blast and deprive them of a second chance.
It is discussed back during the start of the global war on terror, with the rise of urban fighting that there was two ways of doing CQB, through momentum, quick and making sure that the enemies are off balance or slow and methodical, pieing the corners and using explosives whenever warranted.
With the momentum on their side, Marcus surged ahead and found two more figures on the ground. One clutched at his leg, trying to stem the flow while another lay still. The man bleeding on the ground tried to reach for a tricked out AK lying next to him but Marcus was faster, ending the Raider's life.
Marcus, knowing that Arthur is close behind, stepped further forward and into the middle of the hallway, light on, trying to find more figures on the ground, finding none.
“Fuck.” Marcus muttered, realizing he made a mistake, he turned around.
Something hit him in the side, hard, then another. More fire came from the other end of the hallway. He sprinted forward to get out of the line of fire just as Arthur reached over from cover and pulled him back into the room.
“Slow down, operator.” Arthur chided, pushing Marcus deeper into the room and cover. He then took position by the door and peeked around only to earn himself a burst of return fire. Concrete splattered around him as he pulled his head back from being blown away and turned to Marcus with a grin. “Looks like we’re going to have to take it slow from now on. I only saw two, could be more. They are far down the hallway, dug in hard behind cover. Going to be tough trying to pry them out of there.” He said, cradling his saw with his left as he pulled out his pistol to make sure that the other two were dead.
“Sorry. Got carried away.” Marcus said, looking at his status and watched as his shields slowly trickle charged. Reaching for an energy cell, he pressed a latch on the side of his shield belt. A spent energy cell popped out and bounced, settling atop a pool of blood with a hiss. Kicking the burning hot cell away, Marcus placed a fresh cell on the now empty slot.
“Anything passed through?”
“Shield took all of it.” Marcus replied.
“Were going to need a new plan.” Arthur grinned.
“Fuck.” Marcus muttered, looking at the couple of bodies lying in the hall. They wore slick gear, plate carriers and helmets. Their guns were relatively modified from their base models and would surely fetch a fair price if he could get them. Still, nothing much that it took his eye. “How’d you want to play this.” Marcus said just as another random burst came through from the other room, showering them with shards and powdered concrete.
“Well, considering that what Crawler wanted would likely be behind that position, we’ll have to try and do this surgically.” Arthur said, tossing over a flashbang grenade. Marcus fumbled the catch but saved it at the last second. “Would have just preferred throwing enough grenades down that hall until they stop shooting back, but low chance it’ll work. Maybe try to blind them with that. Maybe buy a window few second window to get a lucky shot. Next, we’ll try smoking them out but fighting in thick smoke is going to suck. Higher chance of friendly fire. Of course, we could just try and hold position and let the guys on the other side run out of ammo but that would have to take a long time. All the while, the gunfire would also get attention from other players which we would rather not have.”
“As good as plan as any. We’ll move along the list.” Marcus replied.
With Arthur holding the rear, Marcus sidled up to the opening while making sure to keep within cover. A burst came by, snapping a few inches by Marcus’s head. If he had decided to peek then, he would have gotten his first look on a death screen.
Pulling the pin, he waited for the coming burst. Each were 5 to 9 round bursts, and had a significant pause of about 2 or 3 seconds in between. Rounds came. Marcus chucked the flashbang as hard as he could to where he thought the gunners were. He quickly followed by peeking around the cover to try and get a look of their position.
There, the gunners were both posted up with one man crouched behind a belted machinegun. As for the reason it had been set up there, Marcus had no idea. The second man was further back, opening crates. Whatever it was, Marcus didn’t see since he pulled his head back as another burst narrowly missed his head by a few inches. He even saw the tracer round almost fly towards his eyes like some angry firefly.
He had to admit, the tracers looked beautiful if it weren't trying to kill him.
Back in cover, Marcus recalled more about what he saw. There was no cover to run to. The hall in front of them had a room to the right of it but the door was closed and there was another hole in the middle of the hallway. The flashbang landed past the hole but still fell short of the gunner’s position.
A loud bang and a flash followed and Arthur looked at him, expecting him to try and peek the corner only for Marcus to shake his head. There was no chance it would have worked and his thought was confirmed as another burst ripped to where he would be if he tried to take them on an aiming duel. One of which he would have lost if he had tried.
“Smoke then.” Arthur said, reaching over his vest pockets and pulled out the circular container.
Marcus caught it, only for a Raider, armed with a shotgun, to come up from the room they were just in earlier.
Marcus tried to raise his rifle towards the new arrival, but was too slow. He could only watch as the Raider shifted his aim slightly and blast at the first target he saw.
Arthur’s shields flared and broke. The buckshot continued on their trajectory and peppered Arthur on his limbs. The raider tried to rack his shotgun for a following shot but Marcus had beat him, his rifle raised and centered his sight’s circle-dot reticle to his face.
He pulled the trigger.
The Raider dropped and Marcus surged towards the hole in the wall. Rounding the corner, he fired at chest height expecting another Raider following behind. But there was none, the rounds only found concrete and plaster as the Raider turned out to be alone.
“Fuck.” Arthur muttered, reaching to his vest and bandaging his arm. “We cleared the floor. Where did that guy came from? And before you say it, I know it’s stupid passing you the grenades when you already have them. I just don’t want to carry them around okay?”
Marcus grunted. He suspected as much. “I saw a hole down that hall covered by the machinegun. The guy could have dropped back down a floor from there and tried to hit us from behind.”
“This is taking too long.” Arthur said, “Look, if what you said is right, I could try and use that same hole trick and get close. I'll try chucking a flashbang at them to try and shake them loose. Wait here and be ready. Got that?”
“Yep.” Marcus said, reaching over to his vest and reloading.
After healing himself, Arthur stepped over the corpse who almost killed him and walked out of sight. Marcus waited in cover, and noticed that the fire coming from down the hall had abated for a bit, likely trying to hear whether the flanking maneuver had gotten them the results they needed.
Marcus listened for any footsteps but none came. The people back down the hall were keen on keeping their position, but so was he. Now, it was just a waiting game with both sides separated by a fatal funnel that stopped both sides from going forward.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Marcus waited, wondering whether Arthur got taken out and he didn't just hear it when Arthur's voice came through the radio.
"I'm in position, I think I could get a good, deep, throw from here." he said.
"Got it." Marcus replied.
A loud pop rang down the hall, much farther away than Marcus’s throw. He peeked around the corner and found no rounds coming his way. Down the hall, a small puff of smoke trailed up to the ceiling with no raider in sight. Moving out of cover, rifle raised, he could see the machinegun position unmanned with the gun pointed up. Not waiting for someone to pop back up in the gun to mow him down, Marcus sent potshots aiming just above the lip of the hard cover, making sure as to not hit the weapon itself. Rounds hit and dust puffed up just behind where a head would be, suppressing whoever may be hiding out of sight behind cover just as another flashbang sailed from the hole on the floor ahead of him and landed behind the weapon position.
Another loud pop and a flash. He surged ahead, flashing light towards the lip of the hole where the stun grenade sailed from to warn Arthur and have him not shoot him on the back as he went past. Past the hole, Marcus saw an open door on his left and had no choice but to try and clear it first. Lights on, he did a quick pie around the corner and found the small storage room empty, files cluttered on the floor. He entered, did another clearing sweep to make sure and turned around to peek out the hall.
Listening for movement, his electronic headset picked up scuffling on the floor along with a muffled curse. It was to the left of him, around the corner. With his left, Marcus reached over to his vest and pulled out a flashbang. The nonlethal grenade sailed down the hall in an underhanded throw, bouncing to the left and out of sight. He kept his rifle up, watching for anyone to come into view as the grenade exploded in another loud bang and a bright flash of light.
Popping back out, Marcus was back in the middle of the hallway. He kept the machinegun on his periphery as he kept his aim at the corner ahead of him. Closer, the hall opened up to an open space to the left. He tried to remember how much he has left in the magazine from popping shots at covering his own advance but couldn’t come up with a number. Hoping that he would have enough, he paused as he reached the corner.
The machinegun position was quiet, with the barrel still pointed up. He still couldn’t confirm whether there would be someone hiding behind the barricade and could only think of the risks he was taking. Marcus pied the corner to see a man on the ground in a fetal position, both hands clutching his bleeding ears. He rolled to his hands and knees next to another Raider trying drunkenly get up and fail. Locking gazes, he tried to reach for the gun on his hip but simply earned a couple of shots for it. He dropped face down on the floor, unmoving. Shifting his aim, Marcus finished the other one on the ground.
Marcus spun around and found no one in sight. He quickly reached for his vest the same time he dropped the magazine and let it clatter on the ground. His hand found the mag-pull tab holding the magazine. Eyes up, he slotted it to the well just as he heard movement behind the machinegun position, obscured by a waist height stack of military crates. Reloaded, he peeked around the cover to find another man on the ground, holding his ear with one hand while holding a pistol on the other, already raised, and shot.
The round missed Marcus by a wide margin, hitting god knows where. Marcus had a clear shot to which he sent a triple tap to the man on the ground, two on the chest with one on the head.
Doing another quick sweep, the space was clear with Marcus confirming three kills. There were two more rooms with both doors open. Knowing that clearing them by himself would be dangerous, Marcus backed up to a corner where he could cover both and waited for Arthur to arrive.
Arthur came up a couple minutes later, “Coming up!” he shouted to which Marcus simply flashed his light. A hand came around the corner to which Marcus simply flashed his light once more, with Arthur himself coming out a second later, followed by Crawler.
Both nodded. Arthur pointed to the room nearest to him while Marcus shifted his aim to the other. Slowly, he pied as much of his room from the outside. It looked clear and Marcus entered, green military crates lined the far wall but no Raiders. “Were clear here.” He said.
“Here too.” Arthur replied, coming out. “Good shit. Crawler, do what you needed to do while we loot. Team rules are usually that the killer gets the first pick, and you only paid for the escort and the quest item. Keep it in mind when running with someone else since they might try to be smart and say otherwise.” He said, gesturing to the corpses. “So go ahead, killer.”
Marcus gave Arthur a sharp look before kneeling on his nearest kill. Unlike the Scav he shot physically looting the body on the street, all Marcus needed was to lay his hand on the body to open up a menu and started looting. Not all the gear the Raider had was lootable, but what was available was still impressive compared to the common rabble.
A table came up. Marcus started transferring the loot coming up with a fully loaded 17 round Glock magazine filled with 9x19mm, a couple of comblock f1 grenades, an old but still functional Eotech 553 holographic sight. Marcus didn’t care much about it, so it would be Arthur’s.
A while later, after cleaning up, Marcus could see why Arthur was specific that Crawler didn’t get any rights on the loot. Despite not knowing the exact value of the items they have, the selection they gathered was still impressive. Armor plates, carrier vests, bits of food and water, more stun and frag grenades along with many attachments and barter items like random and rare electronic parts. They also have a lot of ammunition, both sealed and loose with colored tips, both in the universal green tipped ball, orange and red tracer and the rarest, black armor piercing. The rounds would fetch a pretty penny on the market but the greatest haul of raid would have to be a brand new, still in the crate, rifle.
Just from a glance, Marcus recognized the rifle; an MDRX Micron. He had one himself, IRL, back then, and wondered what happened to it from the time he was gone. Still he knew he liked it, despite the polymer frame and shortened 'SBR' barrel, it was still heavy. It was a trait shared by almost all bullpup rifles, a tradeoff of weight, ‘worse’ trigger, all for making the rifle shorter and a better weight distribution. And with the shortened barrel, it was just as small and compact as any submachinegun Marcus held.
“Dibs.” Marcus called to which Arthur only nodded. From the look Arthur gave the rifle, Marcus knew he also wanted it for himself.
But unlike the MMOs he had played back then, the loot was not technically his own yet. Getting killed without extracting would guarantee all the loot they gathered to drop, with a small chance of dropping their own equipment, making it so that another player or group could come in and take it from them. So they couldn’t count it as their own until they managed to extract to the safe, green zone.
There are of course, items that allow for faster loot transfer, like Fulton kits he heard about. The device allowed extraction by being lifted into the air through helium balloons later dragged away by an autonomous drone and delivered to your stash. But the devices were expensive and Marcus’ current loot did not justify using one, nor did they have one available. Usually, the kits were only reserved for quest items to which players would be willing to spend a pretty penny to make sure that they complete it.
If Marcus wanted the loot, he would have to carry it on his back, proving even more dangerous given that the weight would slow him down a lot.
Still, it was not just the loot which was keeping everyone’s their spirits up. The guns, gear and ammunition were good, sure, but the more important half was that Crawler just dropped credits on both of their accounts despite Marcus not being part of the payroll. Not that he cared much, but 100,000 credits is still equivalent to about 100 real life Martian Dollars, converted through Terminium brokers and their rates. About 6 hours of minimum wage, a fourth of his monthly rent. Not bad for two hours of work.
“Crawler?” Marcus asked.
“Good job. I’ve been trying to find this thing for a week now. ” Crawler said, holding up an object the size of a computer drive. “I’m sure you two don’t mind escorting me to the roof?”
“Lets head to the roof then.” Arthur replied.
After stashing their bags in a side room a couple floors up, they headed for the rooftop where Crawler started unpacking his kit. Polymer cloth, harnesses, some electronics and bottles of gas. He filled it up and it quickly got in to the basket where it rose up. He waved his goodbye as he turned to a dot in the sky, later picked off the sky by a drone and towed towards the direction of the ship.
“That don’t look like a safe way to exfil.” Marcus replied.
“They can try, but it ain't like popping a balloon. All they could do with bullets is riddle it with enough holes. But its not like the canisters don’t have enough gas in them to keep it floating long enough for the drone to take it back. Shooting the player isn’t going to matter much either, since whoever it was would just be a passenger at that point. Stuff is getting out either way.” Arthur replied, tapping his shoulder.
“Come on. I’ll get you home. We’ll walk home like the plebs we are.”
Down the building, Arthur led the way with Marcus following behind. The weight on his back was enough to crush him along with having likely causing higher risk of back injuries but in this VR game, he didn’t have to worry about long term injuries but short term ones like getting shot.
Still, following Arthur move through the buildings, he was like a cockroach scurrying between spots using his knowledge of the map, where its best to move under cover and out of sight. Watching him was almost instinctual along with a supernatural ability of knowing when players would be passing by and dodging scav patrols.
Catching his breath, Marcus looked back to the building they came from and surmised that they probably covered around 300 yards under fifteen minutes. They weren’t being slow, but simply running from cover to cover, jumping fences and crouching under obstacles takes a lot of time compared to just walking a straight line.
Arthur scouted ahead, looking both sides of the road and was ready to sprint to the next bit of cover when he paused and waved for Marcus to get back. He pointed up a door to which Marcus took the lead and opened, it led up to a set of stairs on the back of the building to which they took and stopped at the second story.
Arthur took position to the window, and waved for Marcus to come over. Marcus took off his heavy pack first before coming and sidled up to him. He followed the direction he pointed and wondered what the issue is when a group came into view.
The group walked in the middle of the road, confident. Their mismatched clothing and non-tactical gear marked them as scavs but their weapons looked much better than the usual. There was also a very large figure walking alongside them, standing a head above the tallest person and holding a massive machine gun in his hands.
Arthur passed over a pair of binoculars to which Marcus took and used to have a magnified look. The huge man was covered from head to toe with armor plates. What was not covered with armor was covered with thick Kevlar pads, held securely through buckles and harnesses. On his hands was a massive machinegun whose belts long, large rounds around the same size of a 50 cal.
“What’s that, NSV?” Marcus muttered, remembering the Russian equivalent of the M2 browning. He remembered seeing one in knobs creek back when he was there looking for Raufoss rounds which usually sold for a hundred bucks a pop.
Marcus shook his head. That was back then. That was a long time ago.
“Kord. They got the same look, but different internals. The Spartan. Were lucky. I wouldn’t want to try and fight him right now.”
“Don’t say that shit to me. I’m not the murderhobo between the two of us. Besides, I’ll just be fine shooting in the range if you didn’t drag me out.”
Marcus watched the Boss Scav lazily wave the heavy machine gun around, not too bothered that it weighed around a hundred pounds easy. “But maybe, if we had an RPG… but that would defeat the purpose of killing the boss for the loot. I wouldn’t expect much to be left of him after that.”
“Good luck finding an RPG.” Arthur replied. “Guilds buy that shit whenever they pop up in the market. Almost like they’re snorting it.”
“So I guess were holing up here for a bit huh.” Marcus muttered as someone or something caught their attention making the Spartan swing what should be the mounted machine gun in his hands and let it rip towards the direction
The gun’s loud report and muzzle blast ripped at the dust and debris around the Spartan, causing everything light around him to be blown away and kick up a cloud. The massive fireball erupting in front of the weapon along with the massive recoil caused anyone pause. But the Spartan was not fazed, he kept firing down the line until finally content on the destruction he had wrought and stopped firing.
“I wish I was that badass.'' Marcus muttered. His eyes glued down as the boss’s minion’s moved towards the direction he was firing, out of sight, followed shortly by the boss itself. “Even Rambo had to settle on an M60.” Marcus said, looking over to Arthur. “Ever fired one?”
“What an M60? Nah. I did have some time on a 240 though.” Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. “That shit was a pig. A bitch to carry around but you'll be glad to have it when the rounds start flying both ways.”
“Marines?” Marcus asked. "You never did say where you served."
“Army. 11 Bravo.” Arthur shrugged, then turned his head over, giving Marcus a look telling him that he didn't want to talk about it.
Marcus nodded, turning away to look out the window and finally back down to the room they came. They didn’t have time to clear it and it looks like they're going to have to clear it now. Marcus turned to it only to catch something in the corner of his eye. Arthur looked to be deep in thought, looking both at the pile of loot by their feet and back to where the well-armed group disappeared to in the distance.
“Better we quit while were ahead.” Marcus said.
“Yeah.” Arthur replied. “Let’s get our ass home.”