Patterson stared at Hoffmeister’s too large back. There was just something about Gorillas that he couldn’t put his finger on, but whatever it was, it meant he hated them. He’d tried to work out what it was, and the only thing he’d been able to find was something called Uncanny Valley. A reaction caused by something resembling a human but being sufficiently different to cause uneasiness. It was originally applied to robots, but he was more than happy to apply it to modified humans. It was like picking at a scab, every time he thought he had it under control Windsor, or Hoffmeister, or one of the other Gorillas in the 49ers would appear and the bile would rise, and he’d feel heat washing over him.
Gorillas, whilst originally being human, were engineered in such a way that they were definitely different to normal humans. And, for some reason, they smelled. He seemed to be the only person who knew who could – literally – sniff a Gorilla out. And when it came to Hoffmeister he had a loathing so strong it was almost physical.
He’s a fucking gardener, a muck digger, and he chose to be turned into a fucking freak, he thought as he followed the NCO along a small track towards the depot. How the fuck does he get to tell me what to do?
And there was the rub. There was the thorn in his side which had turned from a niggling sense of discomfort to visceral hatred. No matter what Patterson had done to deserve a promotion, he was left having to take orders from a freak of nature. He spat, trying to clear his mouth of the sour taste but it did no good.
It just wasn’t fair. Patterson suffered death-wounds, could remember each and every one of his deaths, could feel the deaths. Didn’t his suffering deserve some sort of recognition, instead of the distrust and constant monitoring he received? His psychologist treated him like some sort of exhibit, drooling every session as he took notes which would be published in journals across the world. Apparently the bastard was quite the celebrity. The psychologist. Not the patient.
Hoffmeister seems immune to enemy fire as well, the bitter thought crossed his mind as he replayed how Hoffmeister had saved him and his people back at the ambush in his mind. He’d just swept through the enemy like they weren’t there. Would probably get another medal, which would mean a better pension at the end of the war. And I’ll just go back to sewer maintenance in Birmingham Berg.
A message popped up on his HUD, ordering all elements to go to ground. Patterson dropped. One thing he never ignored was a warning.
‘What’s up?’ he said to Hoffmeister on a private channel. It was line of sight, so there was zero chance of it being intercepted by the enemy.
‘Enemy patrol. Five strong, and they’re headed right our way,’ Hoffmeister said, throwing over a map and marking the position. ‘My spy drone picked it up.’
Patterson swallowed a curse. It seemed that no matter what they tried, something was always getting in the way of them completing this damned mission.
‘Leave it to me, I’ll take my squad and do for them,’ he said. As he spoke, he pinged an alert to his squad members, popped up a waypoint and “on me”.
‘Keep it quiet yeah? Don’t want the base on alert,’ Hoffmeister said.
Fuck you, think I don’t fucking know that! Was what Patterson thought. ‘Roget that,’ was what he actually said.
*
<<
The enemy were approaching slow and stupid. Patterson sneered as he watched how they failed to completely cover their arcs, the tail-end-Charlie was more concerned about not tripping up on the rough country lane than they were about threats to the rear. The squad leader, a large soldier in the middle of the patrol, had their weapon down and casually pointed at the ground.
Spacing between the ChinKor troopers was similarly just as bad. Ten metres was a good spacing, as it allowed for reduced casualties in the event of an ambush or shelling, but also kept the squad members suitably close enough to maintain unit cohesiveness. This group was spread out in all manner of ways.
Target markers had already been assigned, with Patterson being responsible for taking the rearmost soldier. But the way that the squad was spaced would make it hard for the rest of his squad to attack at the same time.
<<
Stolen story; please report.
It took over a minute for the tail-end-Charlie to draw level with him. Still completely oblivious, the soldier trudged along as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
Patterson sprang. His suit’s stealth bonuses made it feel as though he was walking on cotton wool, and his footsteps were completely silent. In less than a second he was behind the enemy soldier. Reaching over with one hand, he grabbed the rim of the enemy’s helmet, snapping it back and up, exposing the throat.
Before the enemy could react, Patterson rammed his blade deep into the soldier’s throat. It was like pushing a hot knife through butter. With a quick punch forward he complete cut through the soldier’s throat, blood fountaining as the man gurgled, hands rising to close the gaping wound.
KILL!
+6DP
+1 SP KNIFE
+1 SP STEALTH
Patterson lowered the body to the ground carefully, then stood and followed the patrol. It was still dark, so he wasn’t too worried about the enemy realising his uniform was different, especially considering how lax their security was.
His next victim was eight metres away, with the one beyond that being thirteen metres. That one was the squad leader and would most likely be tied into their platoon’s command channel as well. It would the be trickiest and most important kill.
Patterson closed the distance to the next soldier. Just as he reached out there was a sudden snap.
Shit! Twig! The soldier started turning, weapon barrel still low as they probably though their now-dead comrade wanted to get close for some reason. He didn’t give them the chance to realise their mistake. Dashing forward, he extended his hand and swept upward as soon as it hit their helmet visor. It snapped open and he saw the enemy’s eyes widen in fear, their mouth starting to open.
Not a chance! Patterson rammed the knife upwards with all of his might, the sharply pointed end punching up through the bottom of the woman’s chin, through her tongue and up into the roof of her mouth. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her eyes widened even further as blood gushed out of her nose and mouth.
Twisting the blade viciously, he pushed it further in, closing her mouth and feeling the point scraping on the inside of the top of her skull.
KILL!
+6DP
+1SP KNIFE
+1SP STEALTH
The woman’s last breath blasted out in an obscene burp, absolutely destroying the silence of the night. Chuckling the squad leader said something over his shoulder. Adrenalin coursed through Patterson’s veins. His next victim was a mere 5 metres away. Two strides. That was all it took, but it felt like a lifetime as the soldier’s weapon started to raise and they spun around.
They were fast. Faster than their previous sloppiness would have suggested. Slapping his free hand down, he forced the battle of their battle rifle back down to the ground. Now that they were facing him, their combat hardness and armour prevented a clean strike to the torso, and with his free hand still grasping their weapon, he couldn’t pop their visor and go for their face.
So he went low. Dropping to his knees he rammed his blade into the top of their thigh, in between where their front and rear thigh pads met. Right around where their femoral artery was. Letting go of their rifle, he took a double-handed grip on the knife’s handle and ripped down towards the soldier’s knee. Flesh parted, blood pissing out of the horrendous wound.
His blade grated on bone as it hit the squad leader’s knee cap. Ripping the knife free, whilst wrapping their ruined leg with his free arm, he thrust his shoulder forward, taking them to the ground. From bitter experience he knew that they were in shock. Both from the sudden appearance of an enemy, but also from the explosion of pain and blood loss. That wouldn’t last long however, and soon would come the sharp intake of breath and the screaming would being.
Scrambling forward, Patterson palmed their helmet into the ground, thrusting his knife into their throat and then sawing it across. Blood sprayed across his visor, temporarily blinding him, but it didn’t stop him yanking the blade free before plunging it back down to where he thought their throat was.
KILL!
+7DP
+1SP KNIFE
He didn’t get the stealth bonus but wasn’t too phased. The bonus his suit conferred to stealth more than made up for that. Two left, and they were the furthest away. Thankfully the ground was soft, and so the squad leader’s fall had been muted. The nearest was ten metres, the furthest another five on that.
<<
He charged, not worried aobut the enemy hearing his approach. Raising his arm, he threw his knife at the furthest enemy soldier before slamming into the nearest. Bearing them to the ground, he grasped the rim of their helmet double-handed, placed a knee on their spine and snapped backward with all his might. There was a brief moment of resistance before he felt their neck snap.
KILL!
+6DP
+1SP UNARMED COMBAT
+1SP STEALTH
His final victim was screaming, clutching clumsily at the knife sticking out from between their shoulder blades. They twisted in all directions, seemingly unable to truly fathom what was happening. As they turned away once again, he slammed his palm onto the dagger’s pommel, driving it fully into their spine. They dropped as if they were a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Panting, chest heaving, Patterson watched as they squirmed screaming on the ground. Their hands clawed at the soft earth, but their legs lay perfect still and he realised that he’d severed their spine. It was fascinating, watching the last desperate attempts of someone who knew they were completely at the mercy of their enemy, but still struggled in a vain hope.
Kneeling, he pulled the blade slowly out of their back, ignoring their gasps of pain.
‘Looks like that hurts,’ he said, tilting his head in different angles as he watched them writhe. He noted with disappointment that they’d stopped screaming, reduced to gasping for their last breaths.
Someone pushed past him before stamping hard upon their head. It didn’t matter that they had a carbon battle helmet on, the force of the stamp shattered helmet and skull alike.
‘What the fuck!’ snapped Patterson, his next words cut off as Hoffmeister grabbed him by his combat vest and lifted him clear off the ground.
‘If you ever piss around like that again, I’ll break your fucking spine and every bone in your legs so that you have use cybernetic implements,’ snarled Hoffmeister as he shook Patterson so hard his teeth clacked.
There was a moment of weightlessness, just long enough for Patterson to realise that he was flying through the air before the ground rushed up to meet him, breath blasting out of his body.
‘You’re a fucking disgrace,’ snapped Hoffmeister. ‘Get up. We’ve still got a fucking base to attack.’