A/N: To answer your question, guys, I was having a serious writer's block when it came to Rise of the Talon, so rather that writing Shit, I started another story, help clear my head, but RotT is still my priority.
God and the Snake: That's answered in this chapter... kinda... Its not like he had a choice.
Frontier Production: Yeah, M14's a classic :D And what do you mean, heritage? His last name or the rifle? o_O
Medical tent.
Two days later.
I'm cold… But my fingers are burning… My bones tickle and my muscles feel stiff… Did I drink Vodka again? I really shouldn't do that, I can't take Vodka.
"Hey! Wake up, rookie! C'mon, snap out of it!"
Benji? What the fuck? I'm recovering from a surgery, he can't barge in like that and tell me to…
"The fucking reds have infiltrated the camp! Wake the fuck up and get moving, soldier!"
Aw shit!
"Where's my gear?" I groan, trying to blink sleepiness away; I fail and doze off, only to have Benji slapping me in the forhead.
I sit up and try to stand… Only to end up sprawled on the floor.
"What did they do to you in there anyway?" Benji asks while getting me back on the table.
"You don't want to know. Where's my gear, Sarge?"
He nods toward a chair, next to the door.
My armor's laying on it, perfectly folded, with my rifle over it and a few clips on the ground. Just like I left them.
"Damn, buddy, you been doing some Buffout or what?" Benji exclaims once I'm sitting.
I look down.
Fucking hell! Where did that come from!
Without being over-buffed like some of those culturists, my muscle mass seems to have at least doubled... God damn, I have some muscles I didn't even know existed!
"Nope… Let's hurry, huh?" I breath, walking over to my gear.
Montgomery gives me a suspicious glare but finally nods and leaves the tent.
There is gunfire outside, but not nearly as much as there should be, considering the fact it's an American garrison…
Translation: The Yankees are not being as trigger happy as usual.
I take exactly one minute to get fully suited up… Armor's tighter than usual, but it'll have to do for now.
Once that's done, I grab my M14 and head out.
What the heck? There's, like, six Chinese soldiers, ten, tops, hiding behind a supply truck near the entrance, six tents away from the medical one. I'm starting to miss my Joint Task Force 2 buddies; they would have left those Reds in the camp, just for the thrill of taking them on close combat, before watching Grognak's latest episode.
I go prone and cut trough the tents, staying hidden until I am five meters away from the truck.
There, I assess the situation again:
Oh… I see… The Chinese blew the shit out of our ammo dispensers, so all the bullets the boys have is those they had with them… Explains the short bursts, I guess.
I sprint and slide to a stop just in front of the rear bumper; if I peek to the right, I can have a clear shot on the commandos. Now, lets do this tactical, professional and… Fuck this.
I switch the selector from safe to Burst and roll out.
"Boo!"
I squeeze six bullets and down all ten Chinese, .308 rounds punching trough them like they were made of butter.
One of them tries to crawl away, but I shoot him in the hearth.
Two GIs arrive shortly after.
"Jesus Christ! You took them on by yourself, bro! You're like some sort of superman!"
I roll my eyes.
"It's called flanking maneuver… The fuck do they teach you in basics?" I snarl, shoving the grunts away and heading for Chase's tent.
On the way, I meet Patterson and nod.
"'Sup Pat?" I ask.
He sighs and explains the general's plan; blow the chimera depot, secure the listening post, disable the pulse field and let the T-51bs do the rest…
"Just you and your squad? The fuck's he thinking?"
The Colonel shrugs.
"Yeah, that's what I asked him: 'how about those guys, you know, the U.S. Army, can't they do anything?'"
"So, what'd he say?"
Patterson scoffs.
"What'd you think he said?"
Yeah… Shut up and get to work…
"…So," He begins after a few seconds "I hear you accepted to be the general's 'errand boy'."
"Yeah, better than being his bitch."
"Fuck you, Roach." He scoffs.
I flip him the bird and get back on my way.
"Daniels! Tercorien! Where the fuck did you go?" I hear Benji call.
Whatever, not my problem.
I shove the flap out of the way and enter the command tent.
"Chase! I'm up, lets get this shit done!" I announce before even looking around. Chase is standing next to the tactical display, a slim figure wearing a white wolf fur coat next to him.
There's a Chinese woman in there, what did I miss?
"Who the fuck is that?" I add once I get back from the shock.
Chase shrugs.
"Roach, this is Dust, she will be assisting you in you assignments."
She extends her hand, but I don't shake it.
Only thing I hate more that the damn Yankees are the damn Reds.
"That was not part of the deal, Chase." I hiss, earning only a scowl.
"The deal was simple; you become my own personal damn grim reaper and I make you into something better; I held my end, time to hold yours."
I finally look at the Chinese.
She's pretty, for a Red, with almost cat-like features and intense dark eyes.
She's a killer, no doubt.
"Dust grew up in Texas; she may look Chinese, but she's just as American as you and m… Well, as me, at least."
I shake her hand and she smile devilishly.
"Pleasure to meet you, Roach… That's an unusual nickname; you knew roaches could survive two days without their head?"
"Yes." I growl. "I'd rather cut the shit and get to work, Chase, what's the job?"
He waves me over to the tactical map, showing Anchorage and the surrounding area.
"The Commies have just taken out our ammo supply, as you already know, and they're blocking any resupply routes with squads of Crimson Dragoons … I need ammo, I need it now and you two are gonna find me some! Anything to say?"
I shake my head. Dust does the same.
"Dismissed."
I was already leaving.
I stop right outside the tent and listen; they are whispering, but it still sounds crystal clear to me.
"He's unstable; angry." Dust notes.
"He's good." Chase answers. "And with his new abilities, he's unstoppable."
"Exactly, how can you control him when I'm not around?"
"We don't; we just unleash him on the Chinese and hope he kills a shitload of them before they kill him."
"His augmentations, how are they compared to mine?"
"Different, in many ways. You were turned into a damn near perfect soldier, your augmentation is refined, accurate and reliable; he is based on a predator model, his abilities are erratic, crude and unpredictable…"
That asshole! He said there was nothing better in the world, not even cyber implants; that was all bullshit, I'm just a cheap, expendable model!
"You don't seem convinced he is actually weaker."
Chase sighs.
"Well, like I said; his abilities aim to bring up and increase his predatory instincts and abilities, yet I have no clue what these abilities are."
"Wait," She snaps suddenly. "You mean you don't know what he can do?"
"Not a clue."
"You really are a dickhead, Chase." She spits before leaving the tent.
We glare at each others for a good minute.
"Lets find the dickhead some ammo." I growl before walking to my buggy.
Yes; my buggy, Admiral Wilkins had it assembled for me once I got transferred to Chase's battalion.
The thing's got only two wheels, at the front, and got treads at the rear.
It's two placed; driver seat and gunner seat, with the gunner seat being behind and over the driver's.
It can navigate everywhere without too much problem and is fast enough to distance those Bombardier troop crawler the Chinese captured.
And even if it wasn't, the front mounted Minigun and rear mounted 40mm MGL are bound to make those Reds think twice before following us.
Of course, the fact the engine, driver and gunner are left totally exposed could make some peoples feel uncomfortable with riding around in a motorized bird cage, but I know armor is actually just a fairy tale invented by the brass to make grunts feel better.
Anyways, all in all, it's a good fast assault vehicle I received in thanks for the two Chinese frigates and three destroyers I sunk using C4 charges and a diving suit.
When you think about it, it might seem weird that I would accept to work Wilkins, Patterson and Montgomery, considering my… dispositions, so let's put it simply; I hate them, they hate me, it's a natural and mutual dislike and nothing is ever going to change it.
But I know how life would be for my people under Chinese rule and they know I'm their best shot at keeping their oil, so we get along -for now- and watch each others back.
Life is just weird like that sometimes.
I sit on the hood and Dust Jumps in the gunner seat with surprising agility.
"This, is a sweet car." She compliments.
I nod and grin.
"Say all you want about Americans, you guys sure know your shit when it comes to motors."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You take that the way you want… So, where are we gonna find ammo for the Old man?"
She thinks about it for a bit, unconsciously toying with the MGL.
I wish I could blast something with it too; looks fun.
"We could acquire some on the black market…" She propose, thinking so hard I,m afraid her eyes will burst. "…Or steal the Reds' own supplies."
"I like the second idea; sounds like fun."
She smiles and lean back in her seat.
"I figured you would like it; thing is, they have walkers and Chimeras protecting their supply depot."
Hmm… Who said anything about attacking it?
"How's your Chinese?" I ask, jumping behind the wheel.
"Flawless." She replies, confidently.
"Good, get on the radio, find a PLA frequency and tell them there is a Crimson Dragoon unit near the ice camp that needs resupplying."
She frowns.
"Why would they believe me?"
"Because there is a Crimson Dragoon unit stationed there; they kicked our strike team's ass when we tried to get back to field HQ after the last ops, we had to take the long way around instead."
"So your plan's to intercept those supply on their way?" She asks while I start the car.
"It's probably going to be very well guarded, no sense risking them blowing it up to avoid it being captured either… I think we should rather take out the dragoons, disguise as them, receive the supplies and walk away."
She nod and I drive off, turning north, toward the hills and the ice camp.
I push a button and the Buggy's powerful stereo system starts spitting some good ol' Rock.
"You Can't Touch Me. No!
You Can't Beat Me. No!
You Can't Stop Me. Now!
You Can't Break Me. DOOOWNN!"
We hit a bump and the buggy leaps in the air with a roar.
I can hear dust laughing behind me.
