“This is not far icy at all,” Stiletto grumbled as she hurriedly scrambled over a pile of debris.
It was hard to tell what that decades-old junkpile consisted of even with the aid of her low-light vision augmentation, and she wasn’t about to slow her pace to dig through it. She had a mission to accomplish, and not a whole lot of time to plan for it. What she came up with was simple enough. She, Growler and Melody would hit the back door of the house all at the same time and enter the thick of it, thanks to their proficiency at close quarter combat, while Harridan kept watch over the front and side entrances to keep incoming reinforcements at bay and provide long-range support. The junkfields behind the cul-de-sac made for horrible sightlines as well, so it’d be pointless to station her somewhere that had a firing lane barely the length of a bus. Not much of a plan, but when you have a hammer—
She glanced in Growler's direction when that thought crossed her mind, earning herself a stare and a low grunt in return. Growler was the hammer, she just needed to make sure everything inside looked like a nail.
She dipped behind the rotted out husk of what had to be a century-old sedan, powersliding on her knees through the dirt. Anything worthwhile in these detritus fields had been long picked clean, leaving only the sharp stench of rust and the crushing depression of long-dead industry in the air. She took another deep whiff. A distinct absence of gun oil, pointing towards the lack of perimeter patrols. An opening. Almost too convenient, but something was better than nothing. Doubly so when working with minimal intel, like right now.
Stiletto signaled her teammates before moving at a breakneck pace to the darkened side alley. Melody and Growler wordlessly kept pace close behind, trusting the judgment of the appointed team leader.
On the approach, her sharp eyes picked up a barely visible wire tethered across the mouth of the alley at shin-height, the endpoints hidden under some old wreckage. A primitive tripwire, most likely attached to some kind of grenade. They were expected.
She leaned down to snip the ad-hoc booby trap and a message popped up in her peripheral vision, nearly making her jump out of her skin.
«From: Harridan»
«I am in position. Activity inside is minimal. They appear to be intentionally keeping themselves away from the windows.»
Damn, Harry was faster than she expected. She turned around to face Melody and Growler.
“Set your commlink notifications to stealth mode so it doesn't show up in your HUD out of nowhere.”
“Yeah,” Melody said. “We already did. Wait, did you flinch because of Harridan's message popping up?”
“…nnno?”
“Lyraia's titties, you did.”
“Let's pretend I didn't.”
----------------------------------------
Harridan nestled herself up on a rooftop further roughly half a klick from their target. It wasn’t the most ideal of spots for her, given her preference for multi-storey buildings, but she’d have to take the best of what she was given. She had two jobs. One, making sure that nobody got away. Two, making sure that there wasn’t a repeat of the last incident.
Not that she had any interest in throwing explosive charges nearly point blank onto the hood of a moving vehicle.
She manually adjusted her rifle’s scope one last time, lacking any form of trust in the automated systems onboard the thing to do the job as well as she did. It might’ve been pinpoint accurate, but she had her own preferences. Besides, she knew her rifle better than whichever egghead initially calibrated the scope. She had definitely fired it a lot more than said egghead.
After a satisfactory amount of tinkering, she stuck her eye back to said scope. It was much the same as it was before. Zero activity on the outside of the house. A regular dingy house with faded blue vinyl siding adorning the exterior, its state of disrepair a sight all too common in the Slag. Nobody entered or exited in the span of the time she’d been on her perch. The barred window viewing out into the streets also had its curtains drawn, making visibility on the inside difficult beyond guessing what the blobs moving past were. It did strike her as obvious that they must’ve recently moved into this spot as well, given that modus operandi dictates that they should get bulletproof shutters in place as soon as possible.
She brought her finger up to her commlink, preparing to fire off a message before the low rumbling of an engine approaching up the road behind interrupted her train of thought. Nothing unexpected, but it was certainly a wrench in the works with how early they were arriving.
----------------------------------------
Stiletto’s pace slowed to a near crawl from what it started as. Every few meters, there was another trap or pitfall put in place. Thankfully, most of which were low-tech deterrents like razor wire or triplines, even some cans strung up on twine. Putting two and two together, it was becoming more likely that this particular safehouse was fortified with what little supplies they had on hand. Maybe they were more ill-equipped than the last set and this would be a breeze.
The incoming message from Harridan didn't jolt her out of her skin this time.
«From: Harridan»
«I believe their security rotation is arriving. What are your orders?»
Stiletto swept her gaze across the alley, still spotting no sign of a patrol on this side. It gave her no comfort, because this just meant the inside was packed with CorpSec waiting for their shift change.
«From: Stiletto»
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
«Stop them from entering the building through the front. We're in place and about to make our entrance.»
The skidding of tires, the screeching and crunching of metal from the road adjacent cut through the quiet of night. To Stiletto's discerning ears, those were the unmistakable sounds of a heavy vehicle flipping over an uncountable number of times. They couldn’t wait any longer. The cacophony from outside would be enough to send the people inside into a state of full alert. They had to go in now before they entrenched themselves even further. It was about to get loud and messy.
“On my go, Growler kicks down the door and the both of you are free to let loose and wreak havoc.”
“What about you?” Melody unwrapped the chains covering her forearms.
“It's going to be a tight fit for the three of us if the inside is just regular house corridors. I'll take the scenic route.”
“Which would that be?”
Stiletto looked around, tapping into her supposed ability to improvise that Switch thought so highly of. She pointed at the sole window along the far side of the house that wasn’t visibly reinforced by some means. “There!”
“You're nuts.”
“Thanks!”
“I wasn't—you know what, it probably counts as a compliment since you'll pull off whatever you got planned. Alright, waiting for your signal.”
Stiletto took a few steps back and a few deep breaths. Nothing you haven't done before, she thought to herself. One last look at Growler and Melody before the split. “Go!”
She used the sound of Growler's heavy boot obliterating the door as her starting pistol. Running start into forward lunge, with a quick midair twist to smash into the pane feet-first.
CRASH.
Not the wisest or most tactical of moves, but definitely the most fun. At least the exploding shower of glass disoriented the surrounding CorpSec for long enough, giving her an opportunity to get her bearings. All of them were still out of position for the most part. Just the way she liked it.
Knives out. Dip to the left. Ice-pick grip the knife. The blade sunk straight through the bullet-proof vest of the closest corpsec officer. A pirouette to the right, the knife’s edge slashing across the exposed throat of the next. To her, this was a show. A grand dance. She couldn't care less about the details of the worn down kitchen she leapt into, or how many people were actually around her. By the time they lifted their rifles to fire at her, she’d already taken one of their fallen comrades as a dead-body-shield.
The concussive force from several automatics going full-auto in a closed space snapped her back to reality. For a brief moment. Just long enough to catch the message that popped up in the corner of her HUD.
«From: Melody»
«One hell of a rager on this side. With the way this party's bumpin', Growls and I are switching to guns.»
Stiletto blinked and hurled a knife into the forehead of one of her assailants. The wonders of blades sharpened to a monomolecular edge, netting one less gun shooting at her while she dove behind an overturned table to fire off a response.
«From: Stiletto»
«Making my way there! Hold tight!»
“Come out with your hands up and your pants down!” she shouted from behind her cover.
The orchestra of bullets ceased as if almost on cue with her words.
“What did she say?”
“Something about pants down.”
“Why?”
Stiletto took advantage of the brief lull and confusion, dashing forwards to retrieve her knife from the skull of the slain corpo and resuming her almost hypnotic dance of blades. The next target was in the process of slapping in a fresh magazine. A slash along his forearm. He dropped his only chance on the floor.
Stiletto should’ve been in a rush, but her switch flipped. She was going to take her time with this one. Alternating slashes up the corpo's arm. Spinning around behind him to replicate much of the same on his gun-toting arm. No needless motion, no wasted energy, like an experienced butcher hacking up a premium cut of meat. An absolute deconstruction of the human body.
She would have kept going if it wasn’t for the abrupt sharp pain that sprung up in her abdomen. Armor-piercing rounds. Of course they would be packing those too.
----------------------------------------
The scene outside wasn’t any less chaotic than the scene inside. A flaming wreck of a truck decorated the neighboring lawn, with a dozen bodies strewn out around it. It bought Harry some time to turn her attention back towards the safehouse.
A barrage of sitrep messages pinged her commlink.
«From: Melody»
«We're pinned down in the living room. Growls ate a few shots and we're running out of—I'm hit!»
«From: Stiletto»
«I cleared the back room but I got a hole I didn't ask for in my stomach.»
Those weren’t exactly the words she wanted to hear.
«From: Harridan»
«Please remain away from the windows.»
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she zeroed back in on her target. It was a simple game of shooting fish in a barrel, but avoiding shooting certain fish. The drawn curtains were going to make this a task and a half, but at least the brief illumination of gunfire gave her a backlight. A flash lit up the obfuscated black blobs behind the curtain, the snap of her silenced rifle cutting through the night in retort.
The methodical, almost clockwork-like nature of how she dispatched her targets soothed her. Call and response. She was the hunter and they were the hunted, as nature intended. Even with how efficient she was, every shot being a presumed kill shot, it still took almost a full minute before the raging bonfire of battle quelled down to a smoldering ember.
«From: Melody»
«All clear inside. No sign of Shy. Don't think she was ever here.»
Harry put a hand up to her commlink. A dozen questions flitted through her mind, ranging from annoying to impossible to answer. Nothing unusual for her, the questions do come faster than the answers. She reined it in the moment she saw the front door open through the lens of her scope. Her attention snapped to the swinging door, trigger-finger at the ready.
She eased up when she recognized the silhouettes of her allies making their way out, all in various states of hobbling or stumbling. Nobody was spared from being put through the wringer.
«From: Harridan»
«Are you okay?»
The response she received wasn’t through the commlink, but in the form of dark glares from a block away, piercing through her scope.
She took that as a yes.