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Shadows and Stardust: A Tale of Ambition & Quest for Recognition
Chapter 83 - Operation Giga Pudding: End Game

Chapter 83 - Operation Giga Pudding: End Game

A three-inch-thick steel manhole cover flipped over and landed on the street with a loud bang. Icepick climbed out of the sewer followed by two others, one TWA thug wearing his heavy canvas coat scorched and burnt and the thin wiry guy in black jacket and matching pants.

Icepick whipped her braid over her shoulder when the second man who exited the hole zipped up his jacket then removed his rifle slung from around his back.

He leaned over towards the sewer and said, “Hey, what about the others? We can’t just leave them back there.”

Icepick looked around the area, they had popped up somewhere in an area with houses and mom-and-pop stores. Nothing noteworthy or of strategical importance she considered.

The guy stepped in front of her and asked again. Icepick stepped around him.

“Who do you think you are? I’m talking to you! We left our people back there. We don’t leave our own or our wounded,” he said placing his hand on her arm.

She grabbed his hand and twisted it around. He spun under her arm and balled his fist. Icepick pulled her head back and headbutted him in the face. He let go and stepped back to cover his nose. She slid out a leaf shaped blade and slipped behind him, placing the blade to his throat.

“Listen you upstart pleb, when we eliminate the Wheels and their little friends you can whoever you want can go back into the sewers rescue whoever you want,” she said and pressed the blade tighter against his neck. “Understand Woofer? The mission comes first.”

“Fine,” Woofer said.

Icepick pulled the dagger away and flipped it in her fingertips and tucked between her fingertips. Around the corner a woman with a pleated black skirt, golden blonde hair in pigtails and canvas jacket trotted up to them.

When she was 20 meters from them, she stopped and adjusted her gas mask. Then she pulled her rifle closer to her chest.

“Stop, identify yourself?” Icepick said as pointing her throwing dagger at the girl.

“Oh, hey I’m Butterscotch a medic, and who are you?” she said as she fumbled with her weapon and pointed towards Icepick and the others.

“Do not obscure the mailbox number,” Icepick said, her voice firm and steady.

“Huh?” asked Butterscotch.

“The challenge and password you dolt,” Woofer snapped.

“Oh, yeah that…one tincy second,” she said and pulled up her sleeve. “Ummm…tape.”

Icepick lowered her weapon and rolled her eyes and muttered, “close enough.”

“I’m Woofer, this is Icepick from the Queen Pins, and this is Tweeter from the Playboy Mafia,” he said then asked, “So why the hell are you out here all alone?”

“Oh, yeah…that. We were sent check for survivors when the HQ blew up. Then my squad got merced by some cue-tip lookin’ chickie-girl in a cat mask,” she said then snapped her fingers. “Just like that!”

“So…how did you get away?” Woofer asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Popped smoke, and we all took off,” she said, pointing back over her shoulder. “Down that street, ‘bout two blocks.”

Woofer raised a monocular to his right eye and scanned the direction she indicated, zooming in.

“She’s right—two and a half blocks out. I’m picking up heat signatures on both sides of the wall,” Woofer confirmed. “Still fresh.”

“Told ya. Let’s go take her down,” Butterscotch said, waving her weapon excitedly.

Icepick winced and held her hand over her face as Woofer slapped the barrel of her gun down with the butt of his rifle.

“Watch where you’re pointing that thing, idiot,” he growled through gritted teeth.

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“Sorry,” Butterscotch replied.

“Fine this is what we going to do. We are going to hunt this bitch down then see what we can do about finding others so we can end this,” Woofer said then kneeled.

He pulled out a knife and gouged out lines.

“Tweeter, take point, 20 meters ahead,” Woofer instructed, gesturing to the lines he’d drawn. “Once you give the all-clear, we’ll move in. Dynamic entry. We do this by the book.”

Butterscotch dug into her pocket and started thumbing through a manual, mouthing the words, “dynamic... entry…”

Tweeter and Icepick both slapped their foreheads, groaning.

“Just stay in the back and don’t shoot us,” Woofer muttered, smacking the manual out of her hand.

“Got it,” Tweeter replied, rising to his feet.

He jogged down the street, stopping short before stepping out from behind the buildings at the intersections. Woofer, Icepick, and Butterscotch trailed quietly behind him, checking the streets before moving crossing.

When Tweeter reached the two buildings that Woofer pointed to, he slowed down and hugged the wall on the eastern side. Moving carefully, he pressed his hand against a brick. A section of the wall shifted slightly, like a ripple, and he gave a thumbs-up.

“Using Chameleon cloth to cover doorways,” Icepick whispered. “Smart, but not smart enough.”

He ran his hand along the length of the wall, then moved to the other building and listened closely. Turning back to the group, he pointed to the wall and held up one finger, signaling them to come forward.

“We’ve got someone inside,” Woofer whispered. “Let’s move.”

Tweeter pressed himself against the wall on one side of the doorway, while Woofer positioned himself at the opposite edge, Icepick and Butterscotch close behind, tense and ready. Woofer gave a sharp nod, and Tweeter pulled the pin on a stun grenade, tossing it into the dim room.

A muffled boom echoed, followed by a harsh flash of light.

In sync, Tweeter moved in first, sweeping the room, with Woofer, Icepick, and Butterscotch following in tight formation. The doorway funneled them between rows of shelves stacked with heavy, dusty pots and pans that clanked as they brushed by.

There, sitting on a table in the dim light, was a teenage girl with long white hair and purple eyes, her feet swinging back and forth. She stared at them, unblinking, and a faint smile on her lips. One hand rested on a metallic box with holes on its surface, each one pointed in their direction, the words ‘FRONT TOWARDS ENEMY’ scrawled in chipped paint across its front. In her other hand, she held a glowing green sphere, which she playfully hovered in front of the box.

“The Queen Pins got very sick, 'cause Mu gave 'em the measles,” she sang, her voice hinted with twisted innocence. “Soon they’ll have a bloody cough…”

Before they could react, she tapped the side of the box, giggling in a way that froze them in place.

“Pop goes the evil!”

In an instant, the box exploded, unleashing a spray of tungsten carbide BBs. Time slowed. Icepick shoved Butterscotch back through the doorway, diving over her as he shielded her from the rain of shrapnel and metal tearing through the shelves and scattering pots with a deafening clatter.

The air filled with the smell of smoke and the sound of metal pinging against walls, echoing long after the explosion had ended.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A bright flash of light filled a room as a young boy and girl sat up. Their bodies stiff as a loud shriek hit their ears.

“WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING OUT OF BED?” yelled the high-pitched woman.

They got up and scrambled out of the room as a woman wearing a fluffy robe turned off the telecrystal and view screen.

“Watching the games, wait till your dad finds out, he’s going to skin you both alive!” the woman continued.

The young boy dodged the first incoming swat, while the girl covered her rear with her hand.

“What have I told you about watching this…crap? It’s too violent and not for kids. It’s bad enough your father watches it!”

The kids ran into their room and slammed the door behind them and dove under the covers.

The boy peeked from under the blanket to listen. The footsteps seemed to be moving away from the room.

“Mom’s gone back to bed, Kate,” the boy said in a voice that was hardly above a whisper.

“Yeah, Dean, think dad’s really gonna kill us?” asked Kate.

The boy paused and rummaged under his bed, pushing books and clothes out of the way.

“I mean he loves the games, right?” Kate continued.

“Here,” the boy said. “It looks like I found it and it still works.”

He pressed the button on top of the tablet, and it turned on. The girl took a pillow and covered the screen from the sudden flash. They paused and listened to see if their mom was still nearby. Satisfied that all was quiet, they carefully viewed the screen.

“Hopefully we can see the end on Amazon or someplace else,” Dean said.

“Yeah, that’ll suck if doesn’t have a decent ending,” Kate said.

THE END

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