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Hill 181

Major Jefferson stood hunched over a digitized map of Minerva gathered from Zulu Nine. With a red marker in hand, he circles the location where Liberty and Hotel 2-1 were shot down. With a yellow marker, he highlights their crash sight. Along the map were various other highlights that he made to represent frontlines and current unit positions. The nearest friendly force, Alpha Company led by Lieutenant Espinoza, was still bogged down fighting across the Albya river in the Downtown area. All the way on the other side of the city. They wouldn't be able to rescue the stranded soldiers until at a week of combat. Aerial rescue was out of the option too, according to Zulu Nines reports, the Iscariots were massing around the City Hall. For fear of getting even more helicopters destroyed and soldiers stranded, a helicopter exfil was ruled out. The only option was for the Marines and FECU force to hold out in the City Hall and survive until either the Iscariot army retreated from the area, or until Espinoza could reach them. Both of which were unlikely to happen. The Marine and FECU task force was surrounded on every side. Even with the help of the Reformation, their odds were slim.

Had it just been Unity, Jefferson would've let them die. But it was Unity, Sergeant Wade's Platoon, AND Hazard. Especially Hazard Squad, being the most elite of the FECU. If he lost them, he'd have a very serious dress down by a commander. Especially considering that Hazard wasn't even under his command theoretically, they were a British team. If Hazard Squad died, it would create an international incident that would possibly get him in huge trouble.

But with rescue-via-exfil out of the option for the foreseeable future, what else could he do? Unity and Hazard could try and sneak their way out of the city, but that was an incredibly stupid idea. Not even on the table for consideration, they'd definitely be discovered and killed. The Kiotes had boats, but they didn't have any that could transport that many people. And even if they did, by the time those boats arrived, the entire team would be dead most likely.

"Shit!" Jefferson grumbled as every single possible solution was absolutely brick-walled. He needed to get them out. Or at the very least keep them alive until Exfiltration was possible. But how?

"Major Jefferson?"

"What do you want?" A bit of hostility was peppered in his voice.

Newman grew a bit of a scowl as she held up a manila envelope, "This is urgent."

"From who."

"The Pentagon."

Jefferson stood up straight, eyeballing her to see if she was serious. Seeing that she was, he walked over towards her and took the envelope. It had all the official seals and everything. What was happening?

"Did you find a way to extract the soldiers?" Newman asked him.

"No. I'm working on that." He said while pushing the envelope aside. He'd address that later. Now he had to coordinate the rescue, "You have any ideas?" He asked her.

Newman shifted around a bit in thought, "Perhaps none any better than what you've come up with, admittedly," She sighed.

"I just need something new."

"Okay, if extraction is out of the option, we should instead focus on keeping the team alive until a window can open up," Newman said.

"Go on."

"Well… we have supply crates that can be retrofitted with parachutes and dropped from a King Stallion. We can fit food, medicine, ammunition, extra requests for equipment, that sort of thing."

"Again, we can't use helicopters for this. Our boys got shot down, remember?"

"Yes but that's because they were moving slow. If you'll allow me to demonstrate," Newman walked over to Jefferson's map as he stood aside and watched. She picked up a marker and held it up, "Pretend this is the helicopter transport. Usually, they can fly very fast at very high altitudes. But since the flight plan was changed to avoid the middle of the city, they had to bank around and shed speed," She expressed the whole thing as she moved the marker through the air, banking it to the left and slowing it down.

Jefferson leaned against his desk as he watched, stroking his chin in thought, "This period in which the helicopters had to slow down made them vulnerable. As such, the Iscariots capitalized on this…" she used a red marker to represent the fireball spell, "And shot them down."

"That makes sense," Jefferson agreed.

"Helicopters are incredibly hard targets for the Iscariots to hit when they are moving. So when we drop supplies, we have to maintain cruising speed," Newman told him.

Jefferson thought about it, "That's highly dangerous. That's out of protocol first of all, and our pilots will definitely feel a strain from doing that. Plus, the room in which we can drop supplies is very narrow, they would only be able to receive supplies in the park that the City Hall sits on. What if the supply crates land on the roof, or the river, or god forbid into Iscariot hands?"

"That's a risk that's taken with every supply drop."

"True, but this is ridiculously difficult."

"I don't see a better option. Truthfully," Newman argued, "This is the best bad option we have."

Jefferson knew that she was right, "Looks like we don't have much of a choice. Tell Sherman to order any supplies he wants that's in our inventory and within the weight restrictions."

"Okay," Newman said seeing where this was going.

"Airdrop vitals, food, water, medicine. I'm sure there are civilians in the City Hall too."

"Are you planning on rescuing them?" Newman asked.

Jefferson furiously shook his head, "No. As much as I wish we could help them out, we can barely rescue our own soldiers. The only reason I'm dropping supplies for the civilians is that I know the Task Force will be forced to share food and medicine. They might as well get a little extra to spare. The Reformation will have to work out a solution themselves when the Task Force leaves."

"But there's at least one hundred people-"

"We don't have the luxury of transporting one hundred people. That's not our mission. Let the Reformists handle that."

Newman closed her eyes and sighed, "Alright..."

"Get it done. I'll get the flights sorted out, you alert the Task Force."

"Aye-aye."

----------------------------------------

"So, where are you from?" Yuri asked Hezekiah as the two walked back into position.

"Earth. A country called America. Eden is from another country, England."

"I remember the name, American. That's what we initially called you before the name Ithacan came about. What are you… 'Americans', doing here?"

"Well, I can't speak for everybody," Hezekiah told her.

"You could speak for yourself," She was tenacious. Hezekiah sighed as figured out what to reply with.

"Well, I don't know. I didn't choose to come here, you know?"

"You didn't?"

"No. We were fighting a war, sorta. They called us back home, but it turned out, they sent us through a portal. When they told us what happened, they said it was a mission to 'explore' and 'discover'. They lied to us, basically."

"And you're okay with that?" Yuri asked him.

"What am I supposed to do? They control the portal, I can't go home until the war is over," Hezekiah's eyes glossed over as he thought of the things he was leaving behind, "All of us had lives back on Earth. All of us did…"

Yuri thought about those words before she turned to him again, "I can relate. Sort of."

"Oh yeah?" Hezekiah asked her.

"I'm not really an Iscariot," She revealed. Hezekiah raised a brow as he tried to understand what she had meant, before she continued further, "By that… I wasn't born in this country. It's difficult to explain but, twenty years ago, there was a war. The Iscariots invaded and… they took my family. Took me away as a slave."

"Goddamn," Hezekiah cast a look at her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now. I was freed during a rebellion. Managed to find Cathy, and she helped to integrate me into Iscariot society, and the Reformation. That's why I'm here now!" She forced a smile.

"Did you ever find your family?"

Yuri somberly shook her head, "They're dead."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"It's fine..."

Hezekiah took a look at Yuri as her bright face darkened, recollecting memories of a past hidden to him. He felt bad. Sure, his family was fucked. But he was never a slave. He knew his family was still alive. He knew where home was.

"What are you going to do?" Hezekiah asked her.

Her gaze shifted to the floor, "I can fight."

"Yeah?"

"This revolution is my only way back home... wherever home may be."

"I guess everybody finds their own path home in some form or another," Hezekiah mused.

Yuri twisted an eyebrow, a little perplexed by what he had meant.

"What I mean is that I've always considered myself more of an antiwar kinda guy," Hezekiah clarified.

"How? You're a soldier, right?"

"Sure, but soldiers have agency too."

"It just seems kind of…"

"Hypocritical?"

Yuri nodded slowly. Not wanting to accuse him, but also meaning exactly that. Hezekiah shifted a bit uncomfortably in his boots as he walked, "I get that. I'm not a soldier because I want to fight wars, I'm a soldier because I want less of them. I don't like killing people, I'm sure you don't either."

"That sounds about right," Yuri seemed to agree, "I wanted to voice my opposition to the violence, but at the same time, I've felt so compelled to fight. I have every stake invested in this revolution. It'd be stupid if I decided not to."

"That's why you're here?"

"Sort of. I don't fully understand it myself. But I have to fight for some reason I can't quite explain, and I don't quite know. I've been in a battle, not too long ago. And it was mortifying. To just see civilized creatures at their most savage, it was a bloodbath a few hours before you crashed here!"

"I don't doubt it. I guess everybody travels their own route to find themselves. Me... I don't think this is it," Hezekiah said.

"What do you mean?" Yuri asked him, again pressing for more information.

Hezekiah wanted to tell her how he felt. But why would he? He had only just met her. But she just seemed so easy to talk to. He could relate to her on a level that he couldn't even with Flint. And he didn't have to be as formal with her as he needed to be with Newman. It was all revolutionary to soldier. Two people who were dealt a terrible hand at life, spitting some truth out in a warzone. It just felt right to him.

"This isn't for me," Hezekiah whispered, "I can't do this anymore. I swear to God, I can't."

Yuri didn't say anything. She just listened, "I just want to go home. None of us signed up to do this. And we've done some things that... that I desperately regret."

"You were behind the bombings?"

Those words froze him. The answer was of course, yes. She knew it. He knew it. But it felt terrible to admit that. It was his fault. As much as he tried to shift the blame to Jefferson, there was blood on his hands. He should've listened to Temetet. And now Temetet was dead. For some reason, Hezekiah felt guilty for that too. And what of all the other lives Hezekiah had directly taken? All the Imperials unfortunate enough to be behind his gun? What of his squadmates, forced to do as he said? Why was he so complicit in their suffering? Why... why... why...

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Hezekiah's lips felt dry. He tried to lick them but it didn't help. Instead of speaking, he just gave her a guilty sigh.

"If that's true... then-"

"I didn't want to!" Hezekiah blurted out, his tongue again shouting words that his brain hadn't fully thought through, "It...they... we were lied to! They told us that it was just a few bridges to prevent the Imperials from retreating! They never told us that there were innocent people in the area!"

Yuri's look hadn't changed. He couldn't tell if she understood or not. He felt embarrassed. Briefly, he wiped his face clear of nervous sweat, before he turned to Yuri with a weary smile, "I'm sorry," was all that he said. Leaving Yuri behind...

Hezekiah found himself alone again, out in the halls of the City Hall. Not quite satisfied with the conversation with Eden and Yuri together. His heart to heart with Yuri alone hadn't helped either. Although it was an incredibly relieving feeling to know that there were others in his exact position --as far as being in contact with the creature goes-- he hadn't gotten any of his questions answered. If anything, he left with more questions than he had started. Are there multiples of the Mirrorface? What does the Mirrorface really want? Who does it serve? And what the hell is it? Again, he knew Otaes, or the Kiote elves in general would hold many of those answers. But in Otaes' current state, asking her wouldn't be a good idea. She was strong, but everyone would break at the loss of close family. Especially so, a brother.

Which is why he found it incredibly strange when he turned a corner and found Otaes, there in the halls. And of all things, she was talking to Flint. The hall was right in the wake of the windows, Unity, and Hazard both took up defensive positions there, and the able-bodied Marines had managed to gear up and help out. It seemed there was no attack yet, but Otaes being there was odd. What was she doing? Why was she talking to Flint? And why on Earth was she smiling?

The two were seated on the floor. Otaes had a bottle in her hand as she spoke. Both shared warm smiles, they seemed to be happy. Or at the very least, they didn't appear to be upset. Hezekiah couldn't make out any words, but all they seemed to do was talk.

If Hezekiah could shoot a guess, Flint would be trying his hand at consoling her. Perhaps talking to ease the pain. Normally, Hezekiah wouldn't have batted an eye. But this was Flint he was talking about, consoling was not one of his strong suits. And yet, Otaes seemed relatively content with him. They both had a calm, even casual demeanor with one another. Talking with wide smiles. Like they were old friends meeting up for the first time. It just seemed so odd after everything that had just happened, her brother dying, being stranded out here behind enemy lines, and the thing that made her smile... was Flint.

Did she... love him too?

He shrugged the idea off as he took a position next to Lafayette, ignoring it for now. They could've been talking about anything, and Hezekiah would've only been wasting his time trying to figure out what for certain. Besides, it was none of his business. He was only being intrusive. He had far more important problems of his own to deal with. If Flint and Otaes were finally hitting it off together, good for them. In fact, he felt happy for both of them. It was just a matter of strange circumstance was all.

"Where were you?" Lafayette shot him a brief question. He was sitting against the wall, his phone out, Hezekiah wondered what he could've been doing on it since there was no reception. He didn't look at the screen, Lafayette's privacy was his own.

"Talking to some people about the mission is all. What about you?"

"Nothing. Nothing much. The gunfire from outside is getting louder, but none of our shooters have seen anything," Lafayette told him, brushing back the now noticeably dark goatee on his face.

"They'll be here sooner or later!" Quinn informed.

"Then we'll be ready for them."

"When is the evac coming?" Brian asked. He had taken his glasses off to catch some rest in these quiet few hours, "They aren't leaving us behind, are they?"

"No, not at all. They said it'll come when the area is clear. For now, they are working on a new route! Once they work it out, we'll all go home," Hezekiah put a calming hand on Brian's shoulder.

Brian's blue eyes, naked without the lens of his eyeglasses, looked upon Hezekiah with worry, "And what about the people here?"

Hezekiah swallowed hard. They weren't a part of the plan. Hezekiah knew that much. The Marines would leave them to defend themselves once extraction came, there would've been no way in hell that they could get well over a hundred people out of here! Not without putting the soldiers in even greater danger, and with all the wounded, that wasn't a great option, "We'll work something out for them."

Brian's eyes sank to gaze at the floor, half-lidded, "Oh," he murmured. Sinking into himself. Hezekiah was going to further try and address the issue when Sherman walked into the hall.

"Hazard! Unity! Get your arses out in the field, we're moving!" Sherman told the crew, and in response, they jumped to their feet. Before anybody could ask him to explain, he had already turned his back to them and was walking out the very door he had entered through. They all followed him through the corridors of the City Hall, out through the front doors, and into the streets of Minerva. Hezekiah hadn't noticed it when he was outside, but the temperature had gotten colder again. Though not as cold as a few days ago during the height of the snowstorm, it proved to make the next few hours that they'd be stranded here much more difficult to muster through.

Hezekiah shivered when a cold gust of air slipped down his collar and into his shirt, grazing his undershirt and chest with the nip of winter's breath. He pulled his collar up further and put on his balaclava. Judging by the blanket of clouds suffocating the city with grey overcast, sleet or snow would be on the agenda.

"We're moving up with Serj's forces at objective Bravo! There, we'll assist in defense!" Sherman explained.

The streets of Minerva were empty, though not quiet. As they walked along the cobblestone street, they saw the effects of the battle around them. What used to be large, grand buildings, lie abandoned. A few walls had crumbled scattering dirt and debris into the already cramped alleyways below. The sounds of gunfire, mixed both from the invading NATO force and the Revolutionary rifles, filled the air with crackling and pops.

They followed Sherman's lead up a block where the B line of revolutionaries stood for defense. The block ahead was the frontline, and judging by the wounded revolutionaries on the B line, the front was about to collapse. With a sprint, Sherman ducked into a half-collapsed building, climbing up a slope of rubble that gave easy access to the second floor of a corner building overlooking the street. The windows of the building offered excellent access to a street intersection, creating a natural ambush point for the Revolutionaries to take advantage of. Every street seemed to be just like that. Hezekiah wondered just how many of the Militiamen had lurked in the shadows, just out of view, but watching him and the rest of his team with eagle eyes…

"You're here!" Serj's voice radiated through the air. He stood up from a kneeling position, taking his rifle with him, brushing off the dirt that stained his uniform, "We're expecting Line A to fall any second, I hope you've brought an army!"

"We have enough," Sherman said to him, "We're expecting supplies soon, they'll keep us alive."

"How are you going to get supplies in through here? We're surrounded!" Serj argued.

"We have our ways, Unity! Hazard! Take up positions in here! Keep an ear out for Command, they'll be in touch soon!"

With that, the soldiers dispersed. Taking up positions next to the Revolutionaries. For a while, they kept an eye on the block ahead. Waiting for the inevitable. It came soon when they saw a group of Revolutionaries running down the block, crossing the intersection, and falling back behind Line B. More followed, many stumbling over themselves, and they tried to retreat from the front lines. Hezekiah strained, but couldn't see anything down the street, the building ahead obscured any useful line of sight down the road to the next intersection. But judging by the sound of death from further ahead, whatever was ahead wasn't good.

And then the sound of screeching! No--roaring-- reverberated in the air!

"Brace yourselves, they've got dragons!" Serj said, fixing his helmet to be tighter on his head.

"Dragons?" Cato asked.

Serj nodded his head, "Aye, dragons. The only way to get rid of them is by magic, or by downing their rider. But even if you get the rider down, there's a chance that the dragon could still fight!"

"Bloody hell," Scotty whispered.

"We've killed dragons before!" Flint said, "No big deal. We're Unity, we can take on anything!"

"Last time you said that our helicopter crashed! Don't jinx it," Lafayette told him.

"Hey, I'm just trying to lighten the mood-"

"Here they come!" Sherman yelled out, his body bracing with his rifle-- an HK G36-- aiming down its iron sights to the streets below, "Staff Sergeant Brooks! I want you to take your squad down the block to our right! On that corner, you'll regroup with the other Revolutionaries! Help them hold the area down, we'll keep this intersection covered!"

"I'll go with them!" Serj volunteered himself.

"Aye-Aye, sir! Unity, you heard the man. Let's get moving!" Hezekiah said, standing up. They hastily made their way down the block to the adjacent intersection, where sure enough, more revolutionaries were gathered. They had garrisoned both sides of the intersection's southern half. A flag waved from a revolutionary above the street let them know which building they were wanted in. Hezekiah led them through an open door, and they clambered up a dark staircase where they were greeted by a squad of Revolutionaries with their guns pointed straight at them.

"It's Serj!" Said the pink elf, calming the revolutionaries that.

The Revolutionaries lowered their guns, letting the Marines in, "Sorry about that, we just need to keep things tight around here!"

"You've trained these soldiers well!" Hezekiah told him.\

"Yeah? Well, training can only go so far. I'm more of an optimist but even I know that our situation is pretty dire. Even with your help!"

Hezekiah took a look around. The Imperials were launching an all-out offensive on the City Hall, encircling the entire building. Half of the Militia were caring for the wounded civilians inside, and the other half were out here fighting. Looking at the details on many of the Revolutionaries, they looked exhausted. Starved. Tired of the fight. Their ammunition must've been getting low. The Ithacan presence didn't help either, considering that a bunch of Marines were also injured, and there were only so few of them. It'd take a miracle to turn the outlook of this battle.

[Sherman] "Let's show 'em what for lads! Remember, we're representing the Earth here! Give 'em hell!"

The radio transmission from Sherman reminded them that surrender was out of the question. Fighting was the only way out of this. The only way back home. For everybody.

"I've got hostiles coming down the street!" Quinn said with his eye peering down the red dot sight of his IAR.

"Fire at will! If you get a shot, you take it!" Hezekiah told them!

Immediately, Quinn's gun opened fire. Flint repositioned himself to get the same angle on the advancing Imperials, and he took shots at them with his DMR. The Revolutionaries also followed, shooting their muskets and rifles downrange into the alley below. The advancing Imperials showed themselves in the intersection, marching in the same organized column that they had during their counter-attack in the Central Promenade. Mages were up front, shields up as always. The bullets were dinging off, "Get a grenade out there!"

"Grenade, out!" Lafayette stood up, unlatching a grenade from his vest. He leaned back, coiling his arm behind him until he snapped forward. Letting the grenade fly straight out of an open window into the streets below. It flew over the front rank of Imperials, getting right into the center of the body…

"BOOM!"

The grenade exploded right in the middle, throwing Imperials to the side, and wounding plenty. The line dispersed, with their shields disappearing, leaving them plenty open to the bullets of the guns. Smoke filled the way, as the Imperials took cover at the sides of the boulevard. Still, the bullets poured down. Another column was marching in. Their mages didn't have shields down, rather, they were going on the offensive.

A fireball was summoned, and it shot through the boulevard impacting into the building directly parallel to the one they garrisoned. Though the damage didn't look severe, it would've been enough to incinerate anyone too close to the impacted wall. It covered the entire floor with black smoke and red flames, burning anyone there alive.

"Shit! They've got incendiary weapons!" Flint yelled out.

"Yeah, I know! Fire on those mages, keep those fucks pinned down!" Hezekiah ordered. The Marines changed their targets from the already suppressed front column, the Imperial mages at the back.

[Zulu 8] "This is Zulu-Eight, I'm circling overhead. Scanning for targets, standby!"

The radio call of the support drone filled the Marines with hope, and an explosion from the other intersection reinforced that. A trail of smoke had descended from the skies, remnants of a missile from Zulu-Eight.

[Zulu 8] "Targets down. Changing targets. Standby."

Another missile, this time targeting the Imperials in front of Unity! An explosion filled the streets, filling the intersection with smoke, fire, and ash. The shockwave from the blast rattled the building but did no further damage. When the dust cleared, the area was devoid of living Imperials…

[Zulu 8] "Hostiles neutralized."

More gunfire, the Marines bounced back immediately to ensure that no more imperials could advance into the street. But then, the dragons came…

"Dragons! Dragons! Take cover!" Serj yelled at the top of his lungs. Despite all the weapons that the Marines carried, they had nothing to take on the thick armored scales of the dragons. Out of all the weapons the Marines could've used, a MAAWS, even a .50 caliber gun, they had none of them. High Command fitted each platoon with the weapons needed for that particular mission, unfortunately for Unity, their mission did not involve fighting dragons. But it would now.

The scaly lizard was just visible overhead. The size of a bus, it moved with a surprising amount of grace through the air. Stopping on a dime to let its rider take a survey of the land. Hezekiah crouched onto his stomach, lying flat. It gave him enough of a vantage point to see the beast in the air, while also keeping his body safe from any imminent explosion. There was no doubt that the Imperials knew exactly where they were.

"I think I can get a shot on the rider!" Flint said, moving his DMR up and aiming down its sights. A few moments of tense silence hung in the air until Flint pulled down on the trigger and the gun banged.

A missed shot, he managed to score a hit on the dragon, missing the rider by a few inches. The bullet dinged off of the dragon scales, doing little more than pissing it off.

"Shit!"

The dragon swooped down and opened its jaws, Hezekiah braced himself for an inferno of fire and flame. But it never came. He looked up to see a green gas spewing out...

"MASKS ON! MASKS ON!" Hezekiah yelled out before the gas could reach the building. Luckily for them, there was a current of air that prevented the gas from reaching them quickly. But soon the cloud of toxic air would reach them, suffocating them all. Hezekiah scrambled to dig his gas mask out from his pack, with his heart jumping for joy when his hands felt against the solid plastic piece of equipment.

Wasting no time, it was on his face with his fingers working the straps with speed. When his was securely on, he turned to his squad. Their faces were indistinguishable thanks to their masks, all of the Marines had one on. He turned to the revolutionaries, they had nothing to fight the gas. No mask, no equipment, nothing. Many began to cough on the air… but nothing more. The gas seemed to only be slightly irritative to the revolutionaries, both human and non-human. Serj himself looked totally confused as to why he wasn't on the ground puking his guts out. Hezekiah couldn't tell either.

Since the threat was no longer immediate, or at least it was easy to repel, Hezekiah crawled back towards the windows. His IAR in position. Unity followed his lead, taking a position by the wall, "They're trying to gas us out! They know we're here!" Quinn's distinct Brooklyn accent rattled through his mask.

"Yeah, aerial denial! The fuckers are smart, I'll give 'em that!" Lafayette replied.

Hezekiah eyed the cloud of gas that surrounded them through the mask. The lenses were beginning to fog up from his breath, and a few fingerprints helped scatter his vision. But still, it was relatively comfortable to see through for now. Figuring that it was safe to take in a full breath with his mask on, he did so. Inhaling and exhaling. Grateful all of the sudden for the fresh air that he always took for granted. Though he remained suspicious of the cloud of gas, for a reason he couldn't yet decipher. It had to do with the Revolutionaries.

"Hey! Serj" Hezekiah yelled out to the man, "What the fuck is going on here? Why isn't the gas killing you? Shouldn't you be… dead by now?"

Serj seemed not to know, "I don't know! This gas should've had to power to turn the insides of a man into a slurry with just a whiff. I've… I've never seen anything like this."

"What the hell?" Brian whispered through his mask, "Okay, I'm getting scared now."

"You're always scared, Brian," Flint reminded him.

"More than usual."

Hezekiah lifted a tense hand to the back of his neck, his hairs were tingling. This gas…

Quinn moved up to the windows again, firing yet another shot at the dragon. Hezekiah eyed his gun. Something was off…

Quinn's gun had a flash hider on it. They all had one attached to the end of the gun. While it didn't eliminate everything from the barrel, it made the flash hard to distinguish in broad daylight, which it currently was. And yet, the flash seemed far brighter than normal even without a flash hider on.

Hezekiah's eyes shot open when the realization sunk in.

[Sherman] "Bloody hell! Is everything alright over there? Your entire building is covered in a gas cloud!"

Hezekiah ignored the call, placing a hand on Quinn's shoulder, "Stop!" was all he told him, "Everybody hold your fucking fire! Do not move!" He held his hands up to both the revolutionaries and his own Marines.

"Hezekiah? What are you doing?" Serj asked him, sensing his panic.

Unity looked at him awkwardly. Hezekiah struggled to understand it himself, "We have to get the fuck out of here… IT'S A FUCKING TRAP!" Hezekiah made his way towards the exit, but seeing that the rest of Unity didn't budge, he repeated himself, "NOW! COME ON! RUN!"

[Sherman] "Hazard Actual to Unity! Come in Staff Sergeant Brooks! Do you read? What the fuck is going on over there?"

They got the message, still unsure of his reasoning, but they managed to all get up to start heading down

[Hezekiah] "FULL RETREAT! THE GAS IS FLAMMABLE! WE HAVE TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! IMMEDIATELY! I REPEAT, THE GAS IS FLAMMABLE! IT'S A CHEMICAL BOMB!"

[Sherman] "What?"

Hezekiah had no time to explain, he just hoped that Sherman got the memo. The team was running full speed down the block now. They had to get out of the gas cloud. But as fast as they ran, the cloud seemed to just continue to stretch on. Hezekiah started panting, his perspiration made the mask fog up even more. Soon, he was barely able to see. It grew hot and damp, and he felt like he was being suffocated by a freshly steamed towel. He was tempted to rip the mask off and breath in 'fresh' air, but he knew that if he even got a little bit of that gas inside of his lungs when it all ignited, he'd be a goner.

They heard another roar behind them. He craned his head to look, and another dragon was flying in. It was larger, a coal-black body with red horns and wings. He took a look at the dragon, and then at the gas around him. And instant connection became clear.

They were fucked.

"Shit! SHIT! RUN FASTER! GO!" Hezekiah yelled out, trying to take a few shots at the dragon to kill the rider. Luckily the gas wasn't volatile enough to be set off by gunfire. Either way, his attempts were useless. Even if he could hit a target that small from such a distance while running, his mask was so fogged up that he could hardly even seen the dragon. Much less score a hit on the rider. He gave up and focused all of his energy on running. Realizing now that he had fallen considerably behind the pack. Serj and a small duo of Revolutionaries seemed to have been able to get out of the gas cloud. The rest of Unity would be next. Just a little farther, and he'd be out too.

He turned back. It was too late.

The dragon hovered in the air and charged up a fireball, spitting it down onto the land below. Like a meteor falling from the sky, it shot through the air, right until it crossed into the gas cloud. As soon as it did, everything turned white.

Hezekiah didn't feel any pain. All he felt was weightlessness. He heard screaming. He heard muffled cries of pain and help. When his eyes opened again, he awoke in a hell that he had never seen before. Everyone around him was on fire. Revolutionaries burned alive. Their skin blackened to dust, as fire filled their lungs and insides. Their clothes were on fire. Pained screams of the damned surrounded him. It didn't take long before he found out that he was among them. The pain set in, his lungs were burning up. His skin was burning too. His clothes were on fire. He was in so much pain. It felt like someone was dragging an iron across his body. And it was only getting worse.

The plastic on his mask cracked. Melting plastic stung his face and throat. Hezekiah tried to move, but could hardly do much of anything except painfully crawl. Everything was on fire. Revolutionaries dropped like flies around him. Worming his way towards the end of the inferno.

He gasped for air repeatedly. Trying to breathe in, but not a single breath satisfying him. He couldn't tell if there wasn't enough oxygen in the air, or if he was panic breathing. All he seemed to get in each breath was hot air that was replaced by even more hot air with another breath. His vision blurred, he fully collapsed onto the stone floor and watched as a wooden building completely collapsed into a burning pile of flames and ash some twenty feet behind him. He couldn't die here! Not now!

A second wind forced a half-dead Hezekiah to his feet. He had come all this way, he'd be damned if he let himself die like this. Not this way. He took four steps before he fell again to his hands. His gloves had been incinerated, now only patchy remains covered his naked and bleeding hands. He had no idea what the rest of his body looked like. He couldn't care. He needed to get out of the fire. He stepped back up to his feet. Head spinning completely around, he had no sense of direction. He did nothing but force his legs forward. He felt like he was falling from the ground, flying, and walking at the same time. No bearings. No recollection of where he was going. Nothing.

He once again fell to his knees. Unable to do anything else, he looked ahead and spotted silhouettes. He had to be nearly there! Desperately he waved both of his hands, though it pained him greatly to do so. He tried to call them out, but the burns on his throat made it impossible. All he got out was a dry cackle, that hurt his lungs even more than they already burned. But he got their attention. They pointed him out and moved towards him.

Through the fog of ash and fire, Hezekiah spotted MARPAT fatigues. Gas Masks. A duo of Marines grabbed ahold of him and pulled him up. They too were covered in some burns, though they seemed to have caught the least of the explosion, for they seemed relatively fine aside from a few burns. They dragged Hezekiah down the block after his legs finally gave way. He had no clue where he was.

More hands grabbed hold him. Melting plastic stung his eyes. He closed them, and couldn't see. Someone took his mask off. Fresh air filled his lungs and it felt like heaven. Pure bliss. He heard the voices of people surrounding him, commotion, chaos even. A lot of yelling of commands and orders. A few familiar voices. Carefully, he forced his eyes open to see that he had been put on his back to stare at the sky. Cathy's face studied him, she turned to the two Marines that saved him. They pulled their masks off and extinguished the loose fires that were on them. There he could see Brian with broken glasses and a bloodied face. The other was Quinn. His forehead had been covered in black, blistering skin, that revealed pink flesh underneath. As terribly as they were injured, they chose to save him. They put their lives at further risk to save Hezekiah.

Despite his condition, he felt a blissful happiness that he had people right here who would look out for him, it all streamed out of tears that ran down his eyes. Salty tears stung his face as they dripped down. It was the final thing he felt, before again slipping off to the familiar land of unconsciousness...