Chapter 7
When the armored car pulled back up to the compound, Roll was standing out front, removing Tracy's "blast-wound simulation" plated top. "Gina, if your going to strip, couldn't you at least step inside?" Helix asked, exiting the vehicle and tossing her the G-49. "Put some real cartridges in it and give it to Tron."
"Sir, yes Sir." She replied, with a grin.
"Hey, I kinda liked that." He responded, walking through the front doors.
Miller and her troops had arrived in large numbers, and all gathered around Tracy, who was tossing out Wily uniforms from an equipment crate. "Alright everyone!" She shouted to the mob, "Activate the electronic heads-up display on your visors. I've outfitted each of the uniforms with an aura generator. The Wily soldiers with a blue hue are your friends, the ones without an aura need killin'."
Gina walked up to Tracy, now wearing a tight, sleeveless, brown combat vest with matching fingerless gloves and wrist-sleeves that came up to her biceps. Her orange-lens goggles were pulled up on her head like an old-time aviator. "Gerard asked me to give you this." She said putting the repeater against the crate.
Tracy picked it up, "Hey, Marcus!" She shouted. Radcliffe looked across the room to her, "Heads up!" She said tossing him the rifle. She turned to Gina, "Tell him 'thanks', but Miller brought my gear from home." Tracy said, pointing a thumb towards the large metal crate in the corner.
Gina smiled, "Suit yourself, chick."
The small office upstairs was lit by a dim, yellow light. Scott sat quietly, in his grey and red nanosuit, twirling his helmet in his palms. Across from him was Lana Miller, she methodically sharpened each of her eight combat knives, like a viper coiling to strike. Neither spoke, only anticipated the coming storm.
Scott looked over to her, and broke the silence with a Latino accent, "I cut you so bad, make you wish I didn't cut you so bad." He said, chuckling.
Miller stopped, "What?" She asked.
Scott shook his head, "It's from this old show, the guy...nevermind." He said, realizing she didn't care about anything he was about to say.
Miller shook her head, going back to her ritual, when Silas entered the room.
"Branson's dealt with, with any luck Helix will get a comm and we can put a nail in this thing once and for all." He stated.
"Taking out some soldiers and Shroud won't put an end to anything." Miller said, "But if that's what your endgame is, I'm willing to fight for that."
Silas looked back at her, "Captain Miller, did you know our leader when he was a wraith?"
She shook her head, "I didn't."
"He was a young kid, about the same age as Miss Bonne out there. He was loyal, funny, and always willing to stick his neck out for anyone in need." Silas lit a cigarette, "He was brought to me when he was seventeen, an orphan. It was either a life inside of institutions or be trained to fight for our country. He was like a son to me. So you will understand that after he witnessed his closest friends being helplessly slaughtered by Wily's henchmen, it took a toll on him. His hatred and starvation for revenge has eaten away at him, more and more, each day." The Colonel blew out a cloud of smoke, before stomping out the butt. "So, yes, Captain Miller, this is our endgame. Not to save the country, we just want to kill all of the traitorous dogs, and their android master."
Helix sat, spinning an old top, staring at Branson's private comms device. Begging silently for it to chime. He chewed his lip nervously for several minutes, counting his breaths. The rings seemed deafening when they went off. He jumped to attention and tried to get his nerves about him. Helix pulled down his mask and took on the form of Phillip Branson. He pressed the accept key, springing Shroud's angry face into the air. "Sir." He stated.
"Don't sir me, Branson." Shroud said, "I couldn't help but notice that you've deployed every last human trooper to some solar factory in Bumfuck, Virginia."
"Yes, Sir. I was captured by The Rancors, they took me by surprise, but I managed to escape." He stated, nervously.
Shroud shook his head, "Branson you do realize that this is an obvious trap, correct? I mean, mice wouldn't even fall for this. Now either you're too fucking stupid to see that, or you're in on it. Either way you are relieved of your duties, effective immediately." Shroud began to reach for the "end" key.
Helix began to panic, he was about to lose his one shot at revenge, "Sir, wait!" He shouted, getting Shroud's attention. "The Rancors, they're former Wraiths!"
Shroud cocked an eyebrow, "The Wraiths are dead, Branson. I should know. I was there." He stated.
"Even Tracy Bonne?" He replied, quickly.
Shroud stopped in his tracks, "I'm on my way." He responded simply, before cutting communication.
Helix shifted back to his real self, pulling off his eye mask and exhaling in relief, as he began to laugh wildly. He would either get what he had longed for, or die in the process. Either way, tonight would be his last night living in misery.
Wily's men had surrounded the compound, and in unison the walls disintegrated on each side of the building, as they flooded in, like a hoard of cockroaches. The bewilderment flooded the ranks, when they found themselves staring down soldiers in identical riot gear, bearing the "W" insignia.
The compound was dead silent, when on the upstairs catwalk, Helix stepped into view, "Gentlemen! Welcome to the end!" He screamed, as the building went pitch black, only to be lit by the machine gun fire unloaded into the crowd of enemies.
Wily's men began to scatter, activating their night vision, when the flashbang went off. The screams of hundreds of men, ripping off their headgear, permanently blinded, was drowned out by the melodic blasting of a rotating, ten-barreled, repeater. Protoman had attached the hand-sized gun over his right wrist, gripping a white and red shield in his left hand. The barrels spun viciously, as the bolts turned men into condiments.
The less valiant traitors had made their way to various exits, to be rewarded with free brain surgery, courtesy of Graves and his trusty snipers. With almost half of their ranks donated to science, Wily's soldiers fought on. Those fortunate enough to have not turned on their night vision in time fired back, circling the lower levels methodically.
Miller and Radcliffe waded into the mob headfirst. The G-49 sent men airborne, while Miller cut trenches through armored limbs. A large hand grabbed Miller's face from behind. She spun, dipping down, and weaving a pattern with her blades: love handles, pecks, elbows, wrists, then throat. The man had bled out before hitting the floor. Turning ninety degrees, she plunged both knives into the back of another man's skull, as she quickly yanked two more free from her combat vest.
A group of soldiers had backed themselves into a storeroom, trying to stay tight-knit. The wall behind them crumbled, when a massive green mech emerged, with Tron Bonne at the helm. The right hand gripped a massive, iron flail, while the left held a large shield with a skull engraved. They were killed instantly, as the spiked ball planted them against the adjacent wall.
Tron charged the mech into the main assembly area, where she ditched the flail, replacing the hand with a spinning saw blade. Rotating it horizontally, she ejected it from a steel chain, maneuvering it through a huge chunk of the enemy forces.
Six men had cautiously made their way into the office area amongst the chaos. They made their way up the stair case, with intentions of taking out the Rancors' leader. Opening the doors to the lecture hall, they found someone else, an attractive blonde, wearing orange goggles and brown leather. They had to pick their jaws up off the floor and remind themselves that she was the enemy. But before they could raise their weapons she had closed in on them.
Roll pulled a set of nunchucks free, and began swinging away on the group of soldiers. Guns were of no use when you you were too close to raise them, that was one of the key lessons that Scott had given her. The first man actually tried to throw a right hook at her jaw, she easily dodged the blow, reaching up with the nunchucks chain, she wrapped his arm, breaking it violently. He dropped to the floor shouting, as she wrapped her leg over his head, and snapped his neck.
The other five wounded men turned to run, but found themselves face to face with their red-haired target. Helix stood without his trademark mask, only eyes of rage. Within seconds, the duo had rushed them from both sides, attacking like wolverines. The men stood no chance, and lie dead within two minutes. Roll and Helix stood over their piled bodies, feeling a great sense of satisfaction.
Wily's men had been decimated, bloody bodies decorated the ground floor like a Pollock painting. The surviving Rancors searched, making short work of the survivors. Protoman approached Tron, who sat lazily in her mech. "Glitch would be proud, ya know." He said to her.
She raised an eyebrow, "How so? We didn't even get Shroud."
"Shroud's time will come." Scott said, "But you really let loose out there, tonight. He always told me you were a 'secret weapon'."
She chuckled, "I rolled out in a big ass machine, Scott, I'm not exactly Lara Croft."
Scott looked shocked, "Hey, classic references are my thing." He said smiling. "Besides, that big ass machine saved lives tonight. Probably save mine one day."
She began to chuckle, when something caught her eye. A wave of terror came over her, as she began to get back into her mech.
Shroud walked through one of the large openings in the wall, arms covered in blood. "You know, your snipers should have really been more aware of their surroundings." He said, smugly. "But what do you say we get this over with, huh?"
He wore a silver and blue nanosuit, and put a matching helmet onto his head, bearing what looked like a "U" on the brow. When his eyes met Scott's, his expression changed, to that of disgust.
Scott put his own helmet on and began to approach the android. Helix was right, tonight would, in fact, be the end.
