The sound of explosions filled the small room, making several of the seated guys and girls jump in their seats. Kai and Kazuma sat mostly unperturbed, the former staring at the monitor with a bored face while his friend looked on with awe.

  “I can’t believe our artillery sounds so loud even from so far away!” exclaimed the Japanese man. “It just stinks that they aren’t showing the damage. I want to see something getting blown up!”

  As the booms began to die down, the camera began to zoom in on a group of motorcycle riders gunning it through the wasteland, kicking up a storm of dust behind them.

  The teen shrugged in response. “Showing people getting blown up or shot at is just going to scare everyone. It’s not as fun when you hear the targets scream.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” grumbled Kazuma. “But I hope they show us Squad Charlie actually raiding the fort.”

  “I doubt it… but I hope so too.”

  As the cycles reached the fortress, the camera cut back to TOAL’s base camp, several miles away.

  “See? What’d I tell ya!”

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

  Dismounting from his bike, Scout regarded the other members of Squad Charlie with a mix of relief and apprehension.

  “You think we gave a good enough show to our audience?” he asked with a cocky smile awkwardly frozen on his face.

  “All we did was drive in a straight line,” replied one of the other soldiers with a shrug.

  “Besides, who cares?” added another soldier. “Our job is to save those kids, not look good in front of a camera. Let Gus or whoever worry about PR.”

  “Fair,” said Scout. “I just get a bit nervous when a crowd’s watching me. That’s why I joined you guys, nobody sees us. And if they do, they’re usually dead right after.”

  Everyone nodded consecutively, each of them taking in the words at their own pace.

  “Right, so let’s show these assholes what it means to meet Squad Charlie!”

  “Pop pop and stainless steel!” the others shouted in unison.

  The soldiers pulled their rifles from their backs, and after confirming their silencers were in place, made their way into the fortress. The metal door they made their entrance through was quickly unlocked with a well-applied torch, and the surrounding space was found unguarded, with Squad Charlie’s visors showing that the bulk of the enemy forces were congregated both at the main gates and the basement.

  “You think they would’ve learned how we operate by now,” whispered Scout. “Maybe Artyom just left that strong of an impression on Reggie when we raided his throne room, and now he thinks every attack is going to be a showy frontal assault?”

  “If they can afford to be this stupid, they probably have enough System support to make up for it,” said another soldier.

  “You make a good point, Roy. Everyone be careful in that case, but I don’t have to tell you that. They know we’re coming for the kids, and we both know where they are now, in the dungeon.”

  “Honestly, where else would they be?” snarked one of the other soldiers. “I mean, they’re prisoners!”

  “For now, Stacy, for now. Let’s change that.”

  It didn’t take long before the skulking men and women of Squad Charlie reached their first roadblock. The group stopped before a stone archway opening up to a long hallway that stretched perpendicularly from the direction they were coming from.

  Scout held up his left hand as he used his right to cycle through his visors, prompting the others to do the same and see what had stopped them in their tracks. A pair of guards were making their way towards the soldiers’ position, the second of which had yet to actually turn into the hallway.

  One of the members of Squad Charlie unholstered a silenced pistol and brought it to the ready. As soon as he did, the first guard in question passed by the group, and managed only to open his mouth before a hole appeared in his forehead, accompanied by a subdued pop.

  The man armored in plate mail quickly collapsed to the ground, and two of the other members of Squad Charlie began to drag the body off into a nearby storage closet for hiding.

  “The next guard’s going to notice his friend’s brain on the wall over there, not to mention the blood on the floor,” whispered the pistol-wielding soldier. “Who’s got the magic bleach?”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The demolitionist on the team, the same man who’d burned a hole through the metal door earlier, stepped forward with an open vial and splashed its contents on the wall and floor in front of them. The green-tinted mixture immediately began to fizz and evaporate, taking the red and pink stains with it. Satisfied with his work, he stepped back into the hallway and the gunman readied his next shot.

  It wasn’t long before he had to take it. Another bullet, another corpse, and another resident for the supply closet.

  “Alright team, let’s keep moving,” said Scout, leading the others to their next speed bump.

  It took a little longer before Squad Charlie met their next obstacle. The group stopped before a closed wooden door with a set of iron bars fixed into an empty square at eye level carved into the thick, wooden slab. Voices could be heard behind it, but that didn’t stop the team from confirming with their visors.

  “The room’s full of hostiles,” said Scout. “But I can’t tell if any of them are our kids with so many of them.”

  “Hold up, I’ve got just the thing!” exclaimed Roy as he ducked behind the door. “[Periscope Vision].”

  His eyes glazed over as his head tilted from left to right. The soldier soon quickly snapped out of his stupor and regarded his compatriots. “No kids, just soldiers. They’re all too big and grizzled under their armor.”

  “Nice!” exclaimed Stacy. “So do we go in guns blazing or…”

  “How about the experimental knockout gas?” opined Roy. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to use it, and no kids means we don’t have to worry about it accidentally killing anyone. Because it’d be on purpose.”

  “I dunno, I don’t think I’m ready to start committing war crimes just yet,” hesitated Stacy.

  “War crimes? What war crimes?”

  “Chemical weapons!” Stacy huffed. “They’re banned by the Geneva Convention!”

  “Oh come on, it’s just knockout gas.”

  “Experimental knockout gas. You said it yourself that it could kill them.”

  “Yeah, we’re going to be killing them anyway, why does the method matter?”

  “Guns are fast, especially a bullet to the head. I don’t want to have these guys, no matter how horrible they are, to beg for mercy while dying a slow death.”

  “Shit, that does sound brutal. But so is tear gas in the same way, but people back on Earth use it anyway. On civilians even!”

  “And we’re fucking better than that!”

  “We are better than that,” interrupted Scout. “But this isn’t a war, and those aren’t civilians. They’re kidnappers and we’re trying to save a bunch of kids from them. In fact, this knockout gas pretty much is teargas for all intents and purposes. If anything, this is the less lethal method, and the most moral choice we have. So how about it?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  Stacy took a deep breath and sighed before looking Scout in the eye and grabbing his hand with a tired frown. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

  “Great,” replied Scout with a sympathetic and weary smile. He turned back to the others before continuing. “But are there any exits the enemies can take to get away and warn everyone else if they’re unaffected?”

  “Only one, but it’s a huge metal door that probably leads to the basement,” replied the first soldier. “They’ll definitely run for this one over that hunk of iron, but I seriously doubt they’ll get that far.”

  “You never know. You two,” said Scout, pointing to another pair of soldiers. “Shotguns out and take point. But first, everyone, masks on.”

  Everyone slipped on a gas mask they had on their persons, which consisted of a plexiglass visor and front-facing air valve with a face strap. A quick round of nods and everyone was ready.

  The pair retrieved the shotguns strapped to their backs and stepped forward while the man by the door took out a large, glass vial and threw it into the room before shutting the door and running behind the armed duo. The others took their positions at the back, their own silenced firearms at the ready.

  It didn’t take long before a light, purple mist began to seep through the corners of the wooden door and the casual conversations inside turned to screaming. Most of it was undecipherable, what with being screams and all, but Squad Charlie could make out a few words.

  “Who spiked… my drink?”

  “By the goddess! Everyone’s dying! Plague! Plague!”

  “[Purge Toxins]!”

  That last line got everyone’s attention, and the shotgunners began pressing their fingers against the triggers of their weapons. As soon as they did, the wooden door burst open and a burly man in a red sweater staggered out while holding a sword.

  Blam! Blam!

  He fell to the ground with several gaping wounds on his chest.

  Two more soldiers stepped outside after calling forth similar skills, also meeting the same end.

  Soon, the knockout gas dispersed and the members of Squad Charlie entered the room. The floor was littered with a myriad of guards, dressed in red and blue shirts, their bodies still.

  “Looks like they’re still alive,” said Scout, checking several of the enemies for a pulse. “Happy?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” replied Stacy. “But I’ll be happier once this whole mess is over.”

  “Same,” nodded Scout.

  “Hey guys,” interrupted Roy, grabbing everyone’s attention with his worried outburst. “The metal door wasn’t open before the gas.”

  The others looked over to the second exit, and saw that the solid iron slab was in fact creaked open by just an inch.

  “In that case, we’ll just have to be extra careful when going down,” said Scout with a sigh. “They’re probably expecting us now.”

  “We’ll be ready,” replied Stacy with a dour expression. She turned off the safety of her pistol. “Whether they’d like us to or not.”