Howard stared at his two arguing subordinates with obvious hatred in his eyes. The masked helmets the squad wore blocked his compatriots from seeing his loathing. They had been going at it for hours now, ever since they were dragged out by the sounds of gunfire. There hadn’t even been anyone there; the group had killed the variant and then left. Still, it was the job to protect the place and kill any intruders.
It's just too bad the variant was dead. It had been an incredibly useful deterrent for years. It would kill anyone dumb enough to approach, and they just had to sit back and relax without much worry. Heck, most of the time his squad was busy playing cards and not even bothering to guard except for the occasional patrol. Now they would have to actually do their job...
Yet, the group had to investigate the gunfire and pull the entire squad from their various patrols. It was stupid. No one was even here. He wasn’t the only one who thought so, as evidenced by two of his subordinates chewing into each other with their annoying voices. The protocols set by the gonk higher-ups that haven't even been here were incredibly dumb.
Really, he shouldn’t even be here. He had been happy fighting on the front lines until he got that damnable ‘promotion’ that sent him to this cesspool below Aythryn City. And for what? To defend a practically empty room? Command was too stupid. But, orders were orders. He was just hoping to get promoted and sent back out. He would even take ghoul slaughtering duty over this- this boring shit. This wasn't what he signed up for when he joined the liberation forces.
“Enough!” Howard shouted, his ears almost bleeding at this point. It wasn’t the first time he had shouted at the two, and yet ten minutes later they would start arguing again.
The two finally shut up for a moment before speaking in sync again. “Yes, sir.” It was almost eerie how often they spoke at the same time considering they hated each other.
Silence, blessed silence rested upon the group. He couldn’t wait till they could leave and head back to the area they were actually supposed to be guarding. Just another hour, and they’d fulfill the potential breach procedures and be able to go back. Just one more-
A spray of gunfire echoed down the hall from the subway platform. All seven instantly drew to attention and as their training kicked in. There was zero hesitation as the group instantly dropped behind cover into firing positions. Howard didn’t issue an order quite yet, instead waiting until the gunfire died down. After what sounded like a short skirmish, the shots entirely died off.
“Form up. We’ll go check it out. Sven take point.” Howard’s orders were sharp and concise, and the squad moved quickly into position. They were well-trained, and following orders was second nature.
Howard moved to the back of the line, ‘watching the six’ was the excuse he usually gave, but he more so wanted a chance to escape in case things went south. The position had saved his bacon more than once. They moved through, easily hopping over the worn turnstiles, and into the hallway lined with abandoned shops.
It was about halfway that an issue arose. Sven tripped, falling to the floor in a way uncharacteristic of him. Sven was usually a steady guy. That was his first hint something was wrong. The second in line instantly flashed his rifle around, the attached flashlight illuminating the area. “Sven?”
The man twisted on the ground, shifting as he attempted to pull himself back up. “I just tripped over something.”
Howard had a bad feeling. Trained soldiers don’t ‘just trip’ over nothing. Something shifted down the stairs to the subway platform. Immediately, the entire squad flicked to the staircase and fired on instinct ingrained from years of combat.
Howard also moved, though he didn’t follow the same. He had better chrome than the rest of his squad, and his eyes easily spotted the ball-like object fly through the air and bounce in front of him. He grabbed the next in line and pulled him in front as a makeshift shield. “Grenade!”
An explosion rocked the area, causing dust and debris to fly everywhere as many of his squad gave final squeals of pain. Howard himself was knocked off his feet, though the worst of the shrapnel was caught by his body shield. He felt a bit bad about using his squadmate as a shield, but it was either himself or his squad in this case. If he died, who would report to command? That's right, it was only his squad's duty to die so he could live.
In the next moment, Howard popped up to his feet and moved back immediately. His squad was still in disarray, but he was far more fearful about another grenade coming from below. People don't tend to only carry one. A plan rapidly formed in his head. He’d back up, then provide cover fire for the rest of his squad to pull themselves together. He moved, easily making up the distance. A glimmer of light from one of his squadmates got sent back, illuminating a thin shadow as his momentum carried him onward-
Something snagged his foot, and Howard hit the ground hard. A plume of dust went everywhere as he heard another explosion near his squad. A shadow of movement caught his eye from inside one of the shops. He didn’t even hesitate and unloaded at the movement, his heart pounding as he tried to figure out what was happening.
Fear. Pure primal fear entered his head as he saw what he shot at. A chunk of debris with a thin cord was flying through the air. The object itself didn’t inspire fear. No, the fear was caused by what it meant. Something was behind him, pulling with enough force to make the debris fly. He didn’t even think, just rolled onto his back as he tried to twist his rifle around-
A loud blast echoed in his ears. A familiar blast; the shotgun they originally heard oh so long ago. Icy cool spread through his body, and then his vision faded to nothingness.
I ducked back into the shop and popped the shell out of the breach, hearing dozens of shots as I did. I fumbled for a shell from my pocket, taking several seconds longer than I should've to reload the Rhymer before peeking out again. The hallway was in absolute carnage. ‘Course, there was the guy I shot point blank just outside of the shop. Then there were four dead guys from the combination of grenades from Mira.
One guy, the closest to me, was just now getting up to his feet, splashing blood around from several serrations across his chest with each movement. I brought my Rhymer S32 to bear, hesitation pausing my finger on the trigger. The man reached with his tattered arm for his sidearm, forcing my hand. I fired, sending a blast of pellets at the guy. He jolted and fell back to the ground as a cold piercing sensation hit my arm and trailed up to my chest.
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I moved back into the shop but moved too slowly as a bullet grazed my arm. I suppressed a yelp and moved another round into the breach as the gunfire intensified. After a few seconds, I moved to peek again, only stopping as Insight gave me another icy warning. I hesitated, then grabbed a chunk of debris off the ground and tossed it across the hall. As soon as it cleared the door, a salvo of bullets flew under it.
The moment the shooter’s attention was on me, another burst of fire came from down the hall followed by silence. A moment passed, two. A minute. “You okay, choom?” I asked through our channel.
“In one piece… Did we get them all?”
I waited a minute more before ducking out of the shop and checking the battlefield. Seven people were down for the count. “Yeah. C’mon up.”
The first thing I did was check and make sure that they were all really dead, and not just heavily injured. None of them had a pulse. Seven armed and trained guards were wiped out in less than a minute by our ambush. I guess I should feel proud? That our plan worked and didn’t blow up in our face, I mean. The adrenaline pumped around my body, causing me to shake now that the fighting was over. I allowed myself a moment before suppressing it best I could as Mira came up the stairs.
“You’re bleeding.” She walked over to me, her eyebrows knit tightly together.
I looked down at the trickle of blood staining my jacket and shrugged. “Just grazed. I’ll be fine.” I pulled my backpack off and searched through it before pulling out a bundle of bandages. Then I simply wrapped my arm up while the bandage slowly turned red. The wound wasn’t particularly deep, so it wasn’t a big issue.
Mira moved down the hall and checked on the entry point the squad was guarding with her weapon raised. “You think anyone else is coming?”
“I hope not. I don’t think we’ll be able to use the same tactic…” I sighed and glanced at the carnage around me.
Mira pulled another grenade from her pocket. I had given her four of them in preparation for the fight. "I could trap one of their bodies."
I shook my head. "Best we don't. Same reason as before."
“Right... I’ll keep watch then. Look at the corpses.” Mira ordered, sounding quite similar to Uncle Ezra.
Looting corpses was about as fun as it usually is. I moved down the line, from one to the next as I checked over all of their gear and pulled anything useful. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot. Five of their weapons, all Sentinel Breach-17s, were messed up by the grenades. Nothing major, and stuff I could probably fix if I had the time and the parts. Just some crooked barrels and jammed chambers. There were two that were still in working condition though, so I set both aside as well as all the ammunition I could find.
The ballistic vests were in tatters for all but the last guy alive. The Rhymer had obliterated the first guy's armor, and the rest were in a bad state thanks to the grenade. Just like the rifles; repairable if I had the time and parts. Unfortunately, I had neither, so we only had one working ballistic vest.
They were all KSS Fused Panel vests according to the tags, rated at IIIA. They were capable of blocking handgun rounds, which roughly included seventy to eighty percent of SMGs. Theoretically, the armor should’ve protected the gonk from Mira. ‘Course, that was ignoring the fact her shot hit the small exposed gap of his neck between his face-shielded helmet and ballistic armor. Still, his armor had marks of several rounds hitting it, and I could feel a couple of bullets beneath the liner.
There was nothing else of note ‘cept for a shattered wand from one of the guys closest to the grenade. Thankfully, he had been taken out in the first explosion. Dealing with an Adept would’ve been a serious pain, especially in this closed area.
The rest of the equipment was either not worth the hassle of dragging around or busted. I briefly thought about grabbing a couple of the helmets, but they had built-in comm links. Who knows what kind of tracking stuff was hidden in the comm links, so I left them behind. Frankly, most of the equipment was left due to my inability in regards to Tech. I really should look at raising it. This was some good stuff I was forced to leave behind.
As for personal items, the group didn’t have any. None of the people had any form of identification, and they didn’t even carry around phones. They were like a black ops squad, though admittedly far less equipped than an actual elite team. The lack of explosives amongst the team, even just flash or stun grenades, hammered home that the group were just low-level grunts; albeit trained ones.
I also grabbed the microwire I used to set up the tripwires. The stuff was damn handy, especially considering its near invisibility and incredible strength. The stuff was as strong as a steel cable, and several times lighter. Too bad it didn’t have the cutting-edge of monowire filament…
I brought all of the goodies over to Mira. “This is it.”
Mira picked up a SB-17 and ran a hand across the receiver. “Standard issue for Fedra.”
“You guys were right then?” I asked, seeing the uneasiness in her gaze as she stared down at the rifle.
“Chek chek. Pa’ was seventy percent sure this was related to those bastards, but seeing this makes it more… I dunno? Real?” She strapped on the rifle as well as a bunch of ammo. "Regardless, the SB-17 is a solid gun."
I looked down the hall towards the corpses. “Could be a frame still. A terrorist organization makes an easy target for frames.”
Mira shrugged, though it didn’t have the usual definition her actions usually held. “Does it change anything? Framing a terrorist organization suggests they themselves are committing acts of terror.”
“I guess.” Right, dehumanizing the group as nothing but terrorists was a typical call. It made it easier to look down at my hands and not see the red coating them. It was the same reason everyone called Scavs subsapient monsters.
She motioned towards the bundle of loot left on the ground with her new rifle. “You take the vest. I already have one.”
I wiped the blood off as best I could and threw on the lightweight ballistic armor. It felt weird putting on a dead guy’s armor, but it was better than getting shot. Again. I also grabbed an SB-17 and loaded up. I was unfamiliar with the weapon, but that last fight really honed in the issue with a one-shot shotgun. Having to get cover every shot increased my chances of getting suppressed. Still, the Rhymer was quite useful. Its power had been proven when it shredded through that guy's armor at point blank.
Mira looked about the shattered shopfronts and shook her head as she waited for me to finish strapping up. “It's always sad being in such a place…”
I sat my bag down and began loading it up with the rest of the stuff I could fit. “What do you mean?”
“It's just- you know I’ve been out in the badlands a lot; even been within viewing distance of the Eternal Sandstorm.” She paused for a moment and looked around. “I’ve been to a lot of abandoned cities and structures, and they all feel the same. Almost lonely, yet a desperately desolate loneliness.”
“I guess.” I looked around, but all I saw were the abandoned shopfronts. Not this ‘loneliness’ she talked about. “You uh- you ready to move on? Or do you need a minute?”
Her head dropped as she sighed. “Nova… let’s just get going.”
We moved down to the entrance of the subway, and I could already feel the sheer discomfort of wearing the ballistic armor. It was almost like my every movement was stilted, which threw off my balance. It wasn't a big problem thanks to the training from Fox's Paw, but still a bit annoying. It was almost reminiscent of wearing a corset. And this was soft armor. Fox's Paw had taught me heavier kinds were worse to move around in.
The entrance into the subway was a long escalator that at one point had probably led to the surface. Now though, the entire thing collapsed halfway up. A natural cave cut it, leading further down into the depths.