Chapter Fifty-Eight

A few of the nearest figures glanced over at the door, most of them looking back away, disinterested, but one, frowning and crouch-walking across towards me, peering through me, the stealth suit faithfully projecting the corridor behind, onto the front of my armor.

He moved closer as I cursed internally, then the door slid shut on automatic, cutting off his confused face. I hesitated, heart hammering as the door opened again, this time to his standing in the doorway, frowning.

We were inches apart now, me frozen behind my layers of stealth and armor, and him looking like a fucking idiot staring the empty corridor behind me.

“Frak!” one of the figures crouched nearby hissed. “Go get ‘im!”

“There’s somfin ‘ere!” the one before me muttered, before twisting around, looking at the nearest figure. “’Ere come…”

“Get back in line!” another of the soldiers snarled at him, hurrying over. “Fuck’s sake, you idiot!”

“Eejit?” the one before me snarled. “Ah’m no eejit… dere’s somfin…”

The soldier went to grab his arm, only to have his hand slapped aside, the pair of them glaring at each other, as the soldier lifted his rifle warningly. “Get back in line… now,” he warned the scav.

“Or whut?” The scavenger spat on the floor, shifting his grip on his rifle as well. “Well sojer-boy?”

“Ten seconds!” one of the other soldiers hissed, and the glare was broken as they both looked to the side of the bridge, the sound of the convoy stopped below as something clearly held them up.

“Get ready!” The order was hissed out, and the pair glaring at each other spun and raced back to the sides of the bridge, getting ready.

There were a handful of swarm missile launchers, a few high powered railguns, but mainly it was rifles, and that made no fucking sense.

If Blue was here, and it made sense that they would be, or someone would be, we were regularly ordered to ride shotgun on shipments in dangerous locations, then why were the ambushers geared up like this?

They’d need much heavier weapons to stand a realistic chance, even with the AROC unless…

…unless this was a diversion .

Unless this was to keep the fuckers looking in the wrong direction! The bridge was solid, and heavily reinforced, heavies could take it down, but if the convoy was underneath? They’d not risk that, and as strong as it was, it’d protect the fuckers here for a little while at least, certainly long enough to make sure Blue fully engaged at least.

That meant the real attack would come from somewhere much closer to them, I was betting.

The lower floors here, that opened into the old underground routes—now long since sealed away to stop monsters getting into the bastions or Artem—they had a few smaller rooms I vaguely remembered, but the only real thing down there was the entrance to the underground.

If I was planning this? That’s where I’d be. Stealthed, ready. I’d make an attack from above start up, open the doors, let blue see that the passage was clear. They’d split their forces, a few to lead the convoy in, the rest to act as rear guard.

Then I’d shut the fucking door in their face, cut the team off from each other, use the AROC, and be ready when they managed to cut through the door. Use the puppeted, controlled suits to lull the team into a false sense of security, then hit the rest as quick as possible with the AROC as well.

Fuck the distraction of the scavs, let them all die.

The major would be low on soldiers he could trust though, so…

I fumbled the catch again, trying to do it subtly… until the whoosh of swarm missiles firing made me curse. I took a step back and booted the door, hard.

It crumpled, the thin metal folding around my boot and flying free of the frame to impact a scav a few feet away. He was hurled from his feet, unconscious as I snarled and grabbed the door frame, tearing my way through and out onto the bridge.

The soldiers were on the far side now, hurrying through a second door there, the scavs being left to fend for themselves.

They’d been firing enthusiastically over the side, the swarm launchers were being discarded and the railguns were pointed roughly in the right direction, even if to aim them properly they’d need to lean out a lot more into harm’s way.

They’d not been expecting me though, and where we were? There was no cover.

I dragged my rifle around from the magnetic grapple on my back and levelled it at them.

“Surren-” Was as far as I got before they opened fire, and I shrugged, the ‘rat-a-tat-tat’ of standard issue assault rifles doing little more damage to my armor than a hard hail.

Then I opened fire on full auto.

The scream of the rifle in the enclosed space was insanely powerful, and with them having nowhere to go? They were shredded, bodies catapulted backwards in sprays of blood as the upper floor was lit to manic brightness.

It was over in seconds, but the fire from below was only just starting to pick up.

I grabbed a drone and dragged it free, no time to use its delicate systems, but I needed a relay link, and I sure as shit wasn’t risking popping my head over the side to establish one.

I flung the drone out to the left and out over the side of the bridge, it hit the wall and bounced, clattering to the floor below, and in less than a second a new series of images were filing my HUD as the drone relayed its feed, two trashed and smoking transports, a single smaller heavy vehicle for the APS and a fuck load of bodies, clearly the ’normal’ security team. Fuck.

I selected one of the figures, tapped it, and sent a ‘knock’. It was refused.

Fucker.

I sent it again, and again, knowing that my proximity should have overridden the team’s settings, the same ones that filtered for outside contacts in warzones to prevent distractions.

Great, motherfuckers were on lockdown.

Nothing was ever easy!

I moved up the edge and started throwing bodies over the side, just grabbing them and flinging them one after the other.

One or two could be explained by shots hitting and the dead overbalancing, possible, but unlikely, over a dozen in a handful of seconds?

Nope.

That got their attention and they stopped firing, cautiously.

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I flung a few more over the side, then banged on the bridge, beating out a standard ‘knock’ like I was at a door, then tried communications again.

It took three more attempts before Blue One finally twigged, and by then the fucking knucklehead had lost the convoy to the sealed door.

“Kabutt?” he snapped, when the call connected. “What the fuck are you doing! Interfering with an APS unit in the field is—”

“Oh fuck off, Jon!” I snapped. “Did they shut the door on you yet?” I knew they had, but I was making a point.

“They… you’re not with the scavs?” he asked cautiously.

“Which part of this…” I pitched another pair of bodies over the side. “You know, slaughtering their fucking ambushers and all, would suggest I’m with them?”

“What the hell are you doing here then?” he asked. “Fuck’s sake, we’re on a mission, man, what the hell are you here for?”

“The prototypes,” I admitted.

“You’re trying to boost the cargo?” He grunted. “Shit, Kabutt, you’ve been gone, what, a month? Already you’re betraying us?”

“ I was fucking betrayed, not the other way around!” I growled. “Either way though, you’ve just been hit by swarm launchers and separated from your cargo… what’s that tell you?”

“That we’ve got a traitor,” he said softly. “Come out where I can see you, Kabutt.”

“So Six can fuck me up?” I asked shaking my head on our commlink. “No chance.”

“Then open the fucking door!”

“I didn’t close it you dickhead!” I snapped back. “Look, I’m in black and gold, alright? My armor is battered to fuck, so when you get through that door, if you see me? Don’t fucking fire!”

“Kabutt!” He growled, but I was already moving.

“It’s the major, Marcial I mean, he set up that last job we were all on.” I raced across the bridge, heading for the now sealed doorway the soldiers had gone through. “He blamed Tyrannus, because the dumb fuck saw a chance to earn extra credits, and sent us as well as you. That’s why we had no retrieval bag, why we weren’t ready. We weren’t supposed to be there, but the little shit could bill the corpos for sending us and cream a little extra off the top.”

“Right?”

“One team would have been taken down by the Mech and the AROC, the Major would have gotten your suits, and the jamming field means nobody would have known, then he’d have hit the area with an orbital strike, killed the scavs and the mech and left enough evidence nobody went looking for you.”

“-care, get the fucking door open! You can prove this?” he asked, clearly switching between conversations. “Dammit, Kabutt, where are you going!”

“He sent me after Tyrannus for fucking up his plans, then blew up the building, used his pet black ops to take down the team from M-Corp, taking out the competition.” I explained, ducking my head and lifting my arm, shouldering straight through the wall without stopping, and cursing as I found a stairwell on the other side, one that led straight down to the lower floors.

I jumped, rather than falling, and landed on the next level down, switching my gun over and dragging another drone free, palming it then tossing it upwards to bond to the wall, giving me a new relay point for the signal.

“I killed Tyrannus on his orders—” More or less. I’d certainly tortured him a bit and he had died, so fuck it, I still hated the dick and was claiming that one. “-then he tried to kill me, to cover his tracks, I got away. Then this morning he sent his team after me.”

“And where are they now?” Jon—Blue One—asked, clearly not sure if he believed me.

“Dead,” I admitted. “He tried to recruit me again, telling me about his plans for this cargo, and for you and the rest of the Blue Team.”

“Us?”

“They ever find that AROC?” I asked him, knowing the damn answer. “What do you think is going on here Blue?”

“The… oh fucking no way! Three! Open that fucking door!”

I leapt down to the next level, and the next, what was left of my suit still blurring as the stealth field tried to keep up, and the soldiers below came back into sight, staring upwards in fear as they opened fire.

Their guns were better, but not good enough to stop me as I jumped again, landing on the level they were clustered on, trying to make it through the door.

Three were killed outright when I landed, crushing them under my suit and against the wall, two more were flung off the edge, missing the stairs to the next level and landing on the one below in a wet, broken heap as the impact of a multi-ton mecha made itself clear.

The others were through the door, and they’d turned, pouring fire into me as I tore the frame apart, forcing myself in… and then I leveled my rifle.

The scream of the heavy rifle unloading around a hundred rounds in less than two seconds filed the air, as did the blood and shredded bodies. Then I was through, dragging myself upright as I spun, checking out an old storage area that had been clearly set ready for something. There were several large crates, all empty, and some bodies, recently executed, judging from the holes in their heads.

That was it though, no convoy, no suits… I cursed, setting off running to the left where there were doors leading into the direction the convoy had been headed, if a few levels above.

The floor inclined sharply, and I raced up it, the jamming signal keeping me from comms with the outside world or Blue.

The passage on the other side of the heavy door—I’d had to trigger the unlock, just a button, but there was no way I was smashing through this door—headed to the left, then banked back to the right all the way climbing, and I grunted as I ran, recognizing it as an access to the parking garage, and escape from the lower levels of the bastion to the main passage to wherever it led, another bastion or Artem itself.

I pounded up the passage, the sounds of echoing distant gunfire making me curse as I followed it… joining the main passage and skidding a few meters as I turned, doubling back… then running straight into a hail of gunfire.

I swore as armor integrity warnings blared like the laughter of dark gods, and triggered the shield on my right shoulder I’d stolen from one of the black ops suits.

Pops and crackles came from it as it tried to form a coherent barrier, rolling out across my frame only to be pierced by impacts passing through before it could form fully, then tearing back out again as they ricocheted off the surface and went off in all directions.

My RI identified the source of the fire, two heavy military grade turrets dumped in the main passage. I opened fire, the shield blunting the damage as it came in, but unable to form enough to stop it all completely.

The armor integrity warning were going crazy now, as my fire tore one of the turrets apart and I jinked left and right, using my jump-jets to add a little extra speed, then realizing that I was faster, a thought cut the jets, and I set my feet, twisting and popping with the hips, adding a swing to the body that brought my rifle around onto the second turret before it could lock onto me, and I fired, my rounds shredding it apart.

I paused, scanning the passage, then set off running again, heading back towards the convoy I could just see around a slight bend ahead. I was just in time to see an APS stagger around the side of the massive main transport wagon towards me.

Slowing, I zoomed in, seeing the tell-tale battered appearance of a suit that’d been hit by small arms fire, but…

…but then the fucker lifted its rifle in one smooth motion, and sighted on me, opening fire.

I swore, leaping to the left, jump-jets triggering and sending me flashing out of the way, even as the rifle twisted, tracking me with metronomic precision. Three more shots were fired as I frantically spammed a knock, getting nothing until…

“Hello, Kabutt,” Major Marcial gloated, answering the knock, as my system registered it being rerouted. “So nice of you to come to play!”

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