FMP Fanfiction

Shougeki

by Esoteria

Author's Note: This fanfiction, Shougeki, is of the action genre and is the third Full Metal Panic fiction that I've done. The first is a romance, Wo Futari De. The second is a comedy, Hitosawagase. These can be read in any order, but the order in which they were written is encouraged.

Please take note of Chapter 0 of Wo Futari De, which gives a full explanation of FMP's history and how my fanfiction fits into them.

I hope you enjoy Shougeki. Please give me some feedback in the form or reviews or e-mails, as these are highly encouraging (even--or especially--when they contain criticism).

-Eso

Update 09/06/2006 -- Fixed a typo as mentioned by a reviewer (thanks, easysecond!).

Chapter 1

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He had already broken a sweat. The Kevlar jacket Sousuke was wearing had only increased the discomfort. As a result of this, he couldn't stop breathing hard. He knew he had to stay quiet, but no matter how many times he swallowed, he was still audible.

This could prove to be either a help or his demise. If Corbin was indeed on the other side of the wall, he'd know that it was him—that it was Sousuke. But if the events of the last few days had meant anything, Corbin might not expect him to be breathing so hard this early.

Still, this was the right place, and—Sagara checked his watch yet again—the right time. In their rush to make this plan, neither had discussed a way of identifying themselves to the other. Sousuke could only think of one solution.

Scrape, scrape, tap-tap-tap. He dragged the tip of the suppressor against the concrete twice, and then tapped it three times. The metal-on-concrete sounds echoed off of the walls. This was it. If it was Corbin, he'd show himself now. If it was an enemy, it'd be whoever had the fastest trigger finger that came out alive.

Sagara waited. He heard movement on the other side of the wall. Suddenly, a hand flashed around the corner. There was a silver ring on it. After a moment, a body followed the hand.

Sousuke stepped to one side to make room.

"You scared the crap out of me, you know that?" Corbin let his head touch the wall as he caught his own breath.

"Good thing you weren't in the habit of calling me Sagara."

"Yeah, good thing. I'd have shot you before you got to the first 'A'. Plus you'd probably have reduced the accuracy by a few percent with all that tapping."

"Enough of this. How is your end?" Sousuke looked over at him. He had his weapon at his shoulder. Before Corbin even said anything, his demeanor and stance told Sagara he had met heavy resistance.

"Let's just say it's a miracle that I'm here on time and without a dozen exit wounds."

"Will we proceed as planned?"

"Yeah. But give me your extra magazine. I'm down to three rounds."

The words were staggering. Sousuke could only remove the magazine from his belt and hand it to Corbin with a look of disbelief. "Then—?"

"Yeah. We need to move."

"Roger. I'll see you at the extraction point."

Corbin nodded, and reloaded his Beretta. The black metal pistol construction matched his custom-made combat suit. Even in this situation, he wore solid black.

Sousuke smelled cordite when Corbin disappeared behind him the way that he had come. Unloading twenty-eight rounds before this point had been no exaggeration. When Sagara lowered his own weapon, his wrist touched something on his belt.

"Wait!" He said as loudly as he dared. Corbin appeared a moment later. "This."

Sousuke produced a small black cylinder, which Corbin looked at in surprise. "A flashbang? How did you get—?"

"I'll tell you later. Make good use of it." Sousuke dashed across the ramp to the opposing wall.

"An M84… like old times." With that, Corbin disappeared once again.

Sagara took a deep breath. He was never trained for this. He couldn't stop thinking that someone was right around the next corn—Sousuke froze and pressed hard against the wall. He wasn't imagining anything. There really were footsteps coming from behind him and to the left.

----

Corbin's infiltration had turned into an assault. Both young men knew before they started that even if they both survived, one would probably be captured. Mithril's denial of further backup remained a mystery, but Corbin could only do his job. He was about to round the next corner. The past ninety seconds had been the longest bout of silence since the check in that morning. He was beginning to feel the proverbial itchy trigger finger, and while a "silenced" pistol still made considerable noise for various reasons, he was no longer worried about being discovered. That had already happened. He was worried about running out of ammunition.

What he had briefly passed off as ambient noise was getting louder and louder. He was approaching the next ramp in the parking deck, which consisted of an incline followed by a hairpin turn to the right and a second incline to move from the fourth to the fifth level. He was approaching from the right side, so he could hear it clearly: The enemy wasn't being subtle any longer. The sounds of three—maybe four—stomping footsteps passed over Corbin's head.

He was nearing his destination, but this ramp was the safest way up—until now. There was no room to dash for cover. A deserted parking deck had very few places to hide, and judging by the caliber of the weapons the enemies had attempted to use against him up to this point, the support pillars in the middle would only create a cloud of concrete dust once they had taken a few rounds. Being in the middle of a cloud of dust may have been an advantage in most situations, but in such an open area the enemy would simply wait him out.

Corbin dashed under the elevated turn in the ramp, ducking slightly to enter the pitch black shadows. With their own noise, the enemy would not know he was now waiting to ambush them.

The footsteps stopped directly above him.

Are they using infrared! Corbin couldn't think of their stopping point as a coincidence. The turn they were now silently standing on was tactical suicide. Even one man—a man like Corbin—could take them out provided some decent cover if they were simply standing around. Aside from infrared, Corbin could only start thinking of a small list of other reasons, with heartbeat sensors being near the top of it.

It slowly dawned on him that if the enemy knew his position, they'd have already come down and killed him. He was outnumbered and vastly outgunned, and they knew it. There was only one logical conclusion: They were waiting on him. It suddenly seemed so obvious. They knew he was on this level, because they had already locked down every stairwell. The only way up was this ramp. They would simply wait him out. And he didn't have the time to try to win a stamina battle.

Corbin slowed his breathing and began to think.

Several moments passed.

I'm stuck. He looked at his watch. I'm totally stuck; they'll throw off our timing entirely. Sousuke would be making his way across to the other building by now. His route was restricted to a single path just like Corbin's was. Corbin could only hope Sagara wasn't as utterly stymied.

Click. There was a distinct metal sound that came from above. It sounded like a pin being pulled. Corbin couldn't help the fear that he had been wrong in his assessment. Perhaps they really were using infrared or a heartbeat sensor, and they were about to drop a grenade right in front of him.

He heard faint voices from above. He could make them out barely.

"Is it ready?"

"Yeah"

"Attach the wire."

A pair of feet shuffled quietly to the top of the lower ramp. Corbin heard some more clicking. After a moment the others started moving. He was sure now that it was only three enemies. "Only three," he thought sarcastically, what kind of idiot thinks the word "only" in this situation?

"GO! GO!" The leader of the small squad shouted suddenly. The three stomped down the ramp to Corbin's level and spread out quickly, each slowly walking toward a different area of the parking deck, with assault rifles shouldered.

"He could be anywhere, guys. You all heard how many he's taken down already."

"Heheh…," one soldier dropped his aim. "He's using a pistol. We don't have anything to worry about." He slapped the rifle against the LEXAN shield which was attached to his other arm.

You've got to be kidding me. Corbin, still hidden under the ramp, heard the noise. Bulletproof shields. As though the vests weren't enough.

As the soldier had said, Corbin had only his suppressed Beretta to rely on. While 9mm rounds did damage equivalent to zero against someone with Type II body armor, the impact was usually enough to stun his enemy long enough for Corbin to find a kill shot, but anyone with a shield would simply deflect his bullets without any reaction.

"Hey."

Corbin froze as he heard the voice directed towards the ramp he was under. He was in direct line of sight—only hidden because of the poor lighting and the dark shadows. He fingered the pin on his stun grenade. Now one of the more cautious soldiers was pointing almost right at him, and the leader was coming alongside while the noisy one looked up at the ceiling in disinterest.

They were moving closer now, and had raised their shields and weapons while walking towards him. Corbin's heart rate had doubled while he struggled to remain still. I may not be a combat specialist anymore, he said, swallowing hard, but I'm still a marksman. His pistol was already in front of him, and he aimed for the tiny space between one soldier's helmet and the top of his shield—right at his forehead. But still, he thought, nervously pulling the trigger back slightly, two shots, this fast, and this accurate…?

Blam! An un-suppressed gunshot went off.

Corbin had jerked at the sound. His weapon went off as well, a bullet harmlessly sailing over his target's shoulder and into the ceiling several dozen meters away. When he realized he hadn't been hit, he opened his eyes.

Tink-tink-tink: The sound of a casing hitting the ground.

The previously disinterested soldier cursed loudly.

"What the hell are you doing?" The apparent squad leader had turned around and was reprimanding him.

He cursed again. "I'm sorry! I was stretching and it went off!"

The other enemy had also diverted his attention to the wayward soldier. Corbin saw his chance.

The Beretta's action clicked twice. Corbin fired both rounds in half a second, and then used his steadying hand to catch the cartridges before they hit the ground.

"Ugh!" The leader fell to his knees and keeled over, dropping his rifle. He rolled to one side and grasped one knee with both hands. Blood covered the floor where he had fallen and was now soaking his hands.

The two soldiers looked at him in disbelief. "Where? Where?" They frantically looked around for the source of the gunshots.

"I… I…!" The squad leader was in tremendous pain. The bullets had hit him from behind the knee. The first had lodged in the muscle to one side of the joint, and the second had passed directly behind it, destroying the flesh that remained between the first bullet and the front of his leg with the exit wound. The leader held one deformed bullet, covered with blood.

The two uninjured soldiers had seen the bullet and the large amount of blood in the front of their leader's leg. They were in a frenzied state, looking in the opposite direction of Corbin, assuming the bullets had come from the same side as the wound had appeared.

Corbin growled inwardly. Quit moving! He desperately tried to aim at the back of the head of one soldier, but he was staggering backward and Corbin had no clean shot.

After a few seconds, the far soldier who had misfired seemed to realize what had happened, and raised his rifle in Corbin's direction.

"What?" The third enemy had now stumbled within a few meters of Corbin. He had seen the other raise his weapon.

"Behind—!" The Beretta's action clicked again, and the casing hit the concrete. The closer soldier dropped to one knee. Corbin dashed out towards him.

The distant soldier fired on full automatic. In his panic, he didn't compensate for the kickback, and his aim went high.

Corbin reached his destination. He caught the injured soldier just before he fell, pressed the tip of the suppressor against where his neck met his skull and fired, killing him silently. The soldier dropped his rifle, while Corbin pulled his body into a headlock. His upper torso took several bullets from the assault rifle. Corbin felt the impacts, and grabbed the top of the shield, raising it up in front of the dead soldier for further protection. He had now counted thirty bullets, plus the one that had misfired, so he didn't need to see the other soldier reach for his belt to know he was out of ammunition.

Hearing the sound of a different rifle being picked up, Corbin swiftly aimed towards the downed leader and fired at his head. The rifle clattered to the ground and the leader fell lifeless. The final soldier had now tossed the empty magazine away and attached the full one. Corbin didn't loosen his grip on the body, and aimed carefully over the shoulder. The soldier was panicking and attempted to fire immediately. He realized he had not chambered a bullet and fumbled with the weapon to do so, lowering his shield slightly. A bullet immediately found his neck, shattering his throat. He fell to the ground, choking.

Corbin dropped the body, and picked up the rifle at his feet. He turned away from the figure writhing on the concrete a dozen meters off. A pool of blood was collecting under him. I'm sorry, he thought grimly, a few more seconds of misery to save me one bullet.

Walking toward the ramp, he found that the rifle had no shoulder strap. He jogged over to his original hiding place. There should be enough time to merge clips. He confirmed the sentiment by checking his watch. Setting the rifle against a wall, Corbin quickly removed the magazine from his weapon, and then took the three bullets from his older magazine and added them before reloading the weapon. Counting the chambered one, I've got fifteen left… and this, he thought, looking at the rifle. He considered stripping one of the soldiers' shields. Suddenly, he heard more footsteps above.

----

Sousuke was still frozen. The footsteps had been definite, but he hadn't heard even breathing since then… nearly five minutes ago. Surely the enemy knew he was there.

Suddenly he heard footsteps again. But they sounded further away. The enemy must've retreated slightly since Sagara last heard them, but why were they no longer hiding their presence? The sounds were definitely getting louder. They were within a meter of the corner now, but this time they didn't stop. Sousuke held his weapon at arm's length. He was sure the enemy would emerge any moment. He was not, however, sure of whether the enemy knew he was there.

In an instant, he appeared: the tip of a rifle, followed by the hands, then the body of a soldier. For some reason even he couldn't explain, Sousuke didn't fire. The enemy kept walking, clearly alert, but apparently unaware of him. Sagara watched him swallow once.

He must be new… he's nervous while patrolling. Sousuke now understood why instinct had told him not to fire. This soldier was nearly harmless. He'd probably gotten word of Corbin taking out several guards and was sent out alone. But now he was a walking cache of weapons and ammunition—exactly what Sagara would need before he moved to the next building.

Wasting no time, Sousuke slid behind him silently, covering his mouth with his left hand and pulling him into the suppressed Beretta at his hip, which now pushed against the enemy's lower spine. "Freeze."

The soldier jerked slightly before raising his hands in surrender. His rifle fell a few centimeters before it hung by the shoulder strap.

"Do exactly as I say and I will keep you alive." The soldier nodded sharply in Sagara's grip.

But now Sousuke was second-guessing himself. Why am I being merciful? This is totally irrational! I should have just killed him and taken his equipment... Actions like these are too dange—.

Sagara heard the soft click of a suppressed weapon behind him, and a sharp pain in his back.

(to be continued…)