A/N: First off, sorry this chapter is super late. I normally try and upload at least once a week (which I've missed anyway), but since I've had this chapter written since before the last one went up, I had hoped to put it up ages ago. Unfortunately, I got buried under a small mountain range of school work and couldn't actually find the time to proof read it. So yeah, sorry about that.
That aside, this is it. The rescue. Well, half of it at any rate. Let's see if we can get Holly out of there, shall we? I should mention that I've had the villains do some pretty messed up stuff so far, partly to set me up for a no-holds-barred rescue our heroes don't have to feel too guilty about. Trouble's death also serves this purpose, among others (including eventual A/H :D).
Be aware, this chapter does kind of flick between perspectives and time frames - hopefully it makes sense and isn't overly complicated! Also, fair warning, when I say "no-holds-barred" I mean it. I hope I didn't go too overboard xD.
-Kio
Chapter 9;
Pripyat, Ukraine
There were many words that could be applied to Pripyat. Butler's choice of "hellhole" was probably among the most apt, but "nightmare" and "catastrophe" were also definite contenders. Once home to more than fifty-thousand people, it had become a ghost town almost overnight following the Chernobyl nuclear meltdown. It no longer thrived. It no longer lived.
Now, in the depths of the bitterly cold Ukrainian winter, it had become home to a group of mercenaries and criminals. They hadn't exactly been keen the idea of spending an unknown amount of time guarding something undisclosed in such an extreme environment, but they were the kind of people who could put up with a little discomfort if the money was right. And the money had been very generous indeed.
So it was that pairs of disgruntled men came to roam the cracked, abandoned streets around the Energetik, faces covered to keep out the cold and rifles pointing into the misty darkness ahead of them. On a less glacial day they might have talked, perhaps one man might have commented to his comrade that the town felt somehow soulless, and the other would reply saying that the whole cursed place reeked of decay, but tonight no-one had the will to strike up a conversation.
As one might have expected, they had all been more than a little shocked to hear that they were guarding a fairy, but they had been assured that the magical folk could cast no spells on them, and that their powers would more or less be negated by the climate. This hadn't completely assuaged their doubts, though – the entire town was creepy, there was no escaping that fact, and there was nothing like talk of the supernatural of bring a shiver to the guards' spines that was entirely unrelated to the disagreeable temperature.
Their employers had seemed relatively sure that no-one would actually be stupid enough to try and rescue the fairy, telling the lackeys that they were really more there for show, and probably wouldn't end up having to shoot anything. Still, you couldn't always trust the employer – they would say anything to make the job seem more attractive than it was reality.
Even so, the promise that magic wasn't a threat to them and the guarantee of early warning if any kind of fairy counterattack was incoming had more or less calmed the guards. They weren't particularly worried.
They remained not unduly concerned when they began the hear dull thud of rotor blades over the crisp night air. The sound was somewhat abnormal, but not enormously so. After all, civilian and even military helicopter flights did pass by Pripyat from time to time. And anyway, the fairies had fancy, invisible shuttles that made no noise, didn't they? Surely the fact that they could actually hear the craft in the first place was a good sign. There was probably no threat at all.
It's impressive just how wrong someone can be.
Butler was focused. It had been a while since he'd seen this kind of action, but he hoped he hadn't lost his edge. Normally the helicopter would have required a crew of two – a pilot and a weapons operator – but once Butler had returned to the fairy camp Artemis had busied himself hacking into the controls and bolting on some LEP technology. The end result had been that Foaly now had access to all of the on-board systems from back at Police Plaza, leaving Butler free to fly.
In spite of himself, Butler smiled. He was in his element. It was high time for some payback.
The first warning sign for the guards came when the helicopter actually flew into the airspace over Pripyat. Even the more mentally challenged among them realized that this was strange, but nevertheless, most didn't see it as a cause for real alarm.
The second warning sign came in the form of the helicopter itself. It was obviously no civilian craft. Having grown up in the USSR, it didn't take long for the guards to recognize the outline framed in the night sky; it belonged to a Russian made Mi-24, known to the rest of the world as a Hind. Far more important than the name, however, was the fact that it featured a wide array of weaponry that was now being very conspicuously directed towards the patrolling defenders.
Looking up at the winged beast, they suddenly felt very small, and their rifles weren't quite as reassuring as they had been a minute ago. Soviet pilots hadn't nicknamed the chopper a "flying tank" for no reason.
And then it opened fire.
It didn't take long for Butler to expertly maneuver into position.
"Standing by," he said into his helmet mic.
"Acknowledged," came Artemis's swift reply. "Commence assault."
"Alright Foaly, hit them with everything we've got."
"Hell yeah!" exclaimed the centaur, and proceeded to do exactly that.
He began by letting loose several rockets, lighting up the darkness with tongues of orange fire. He sent most of them haphazardly towards the groups of guards, but took care to launch a few specifically into the crowd of vehicles in front of the Energetik. The lightly armored cars might have been able to withstand small arms fire, but they stood no chance against the rockets. Metal bent and buckled, and a number of more or less full fuel tanks ignited, causing a series of brilliant and terrible explosions. There would be no easy escape from the ghost town, much like there had been no easy escape for Trouble in Germany.
"Oh yeah!" shouted Foaly over Butler's earpiece, obviously satisfied with his handiwork. "There has got to be bonus points for that."
The giant manservant couldn't help smiling a little. It had certainly looked impressive, and there was surely no-one inside who hadn't heard the sound. Hopefully their little distraction was working.
On the ground there was only chaos. Mikhail stumbled through the smog, coughing spluttering as if his life depended on it. In some ways, he supposed it did. He could barely breath. All around him was smoke and fire. He caught a glimpse of darkness through watering eyes and staggered towards it. Darkness meant no fire. Darkness felt safe. A chunk of something sharp – he wasn't sure what, probably shrapnel – had lodged itself in his shoulder. The pain was unimaginable.
This was hell. The world around him burned, the screams and shouts of his comrades flooding his mind. Some lay in terrible agony, yelling for help and staring with horror at where one of their limbs was supposed to be, or shocked into silence by the sickening sight of their own charred flesh. Other bellowed instructions, trying in vain to organize some kind of defense.
"-Rally to me-"
"-Return fire-"
"-Fall back inside-"
It was a futile hope. Everything lay in utter disarray. Mikhail was sure he heard part of a building collapse. A few shots rang out from the ground, not that they would have any effect on the attacking helicopter.
This was hell.
He had lost his rifle diving for cover from the initial salvo of rockets, but even if he had still had it he would have had no will to fight. He had never enjoyed combat, never wanted to hurt people, and this was clearly a lost battle. He had to get away.
The eerie whine of the helicopter's Gatling guns spinning up descended on the town. Seconds later they began firing, spewing out bullets out at an impossible speed. The enormous rounds tore huge chunks out of anything they connected with, whether that something happened to be made out of concrete or of flesh and bone. Mikhail felt bullets thudding into the road behind him, chewing it up and spitting out lumps of tarmac. A pure, animalistic terror took hold of him.
He had to get away.
Police Plaza, Haven City, The Lower Elements
Foaly was thoroughly enjoying himself, the tragedy that had recently befallen his close friend momentarily forgotten. Artemis had also had the advanced thinking the equip the helicopter was a variety of sophisticated cameras, scanners and targeting systems. The area may have been dark and hazy to the naked eye, but Foaly could see clear as day and was also armed with the options of thermal, infrared and a sort of crude x-ray mode that Artemis himself had been working on. He couldn't see through walls, but he could get some sense of what might be behind from a series of intricate layers and outlines. It was probably safe to say that the Soviet-era attack helicopter was significantly more high-tech than it had been when it rolled of the production line.
He laughed when he caught sight of bullet tracers originating from the ground. "Can you believe that? They're actually trying to shoot at us! That's cute. And quite rude actually. Let's see how they like it when I do it."
The centaur flicked a few switches and returned fire. Needless to say, the nose-mounted Gatling gun was a lot more potent than the guard's automatic rifles had been.
The effect was immediate. The remaining defenders scattered. Foaly swept the stream of bullets left and right, firing indiscriminately. Men either found cover or were cut down. Literally.
Once he was satisfied that the crew stationed outside the Energetik had been sufficiently decimated, he turned his attention to the building itself. There was movement in a number of the windows. The LEP's early reconnaissance had guessed that the defenders' arsenal even included shoulder-fired missiles, but they had believed them not to be guided. Artemis was rather hoping this was true, as something like a Stinger Missile would knock Butler right out of the sky and throw a rather large spanner in the works of an already precarious rescue.
Sure enough, it didn't take long for a white streak to shoot out of one of the windows. It missed the helicopter by a reasonable margin and exploded against the building opposite, but it reminded Foaly that he and Butler weren't invulnerable.
"Keep moving Butler, make yourself hard to hit," said Artemis over the airwaves, no doubt monitoring the camera feed from the helicopter. "Galadhon, commence your approach. This is as good as it'll get. Foaly, return fire."
The centaur was happy to oblige. He loosed a pair of his own rockets at the rough spot that the missile had originated from, blowing a huge hole in the side of the building. Next he opened fire with the twin machine-guns mounted on the chopper's belly, shattering glass and masonry alike and sending a flood of deadly shrapnel in all directions. Anyone else with a missile would think twice before peeking out to actually fire it.
Energetik, Pripyat, Ukraine
Kiril Vasiliev was Vladimir Petrenko's right hand man. His faithful lieutenant for as long as either could remember, even when they had been in the Russian Mafiya together. They had committed many atrocities together – or achieved many things together, as they thought of it – and worked to keep each other alive when they had been betrayed by their Mafiya comrades. Naturally, command of the situation in Pripyat had fallen to Kiril in Vladimir's absence.
It wasn't a difficult task. Basically all he had to do was sit around and make sure the prisoner didn't escape while shouting at anyone who complained about something. All in all, quite easy. Quite easy, at least, until everything suddenly became extraordinarily complicated.
It was obvious that something had gone very wrong when the explosions started. The situation had become far more worrying when the relatively tame initial blasts were drowned out by a series of deafening eruptions that shook the very earth on which he was standing. A pair of guards staggered into the room that Kiril had commandeered as an office.
"What the hell in going on?" he demanded.
One of the guards seemed unable to speak, simply making horrified gestures and quietly whimpering. Thankfully the other was more coherent.
"We're under attack," he stated helpfully.
"No shit we're under attack!" bellowed Kiril. "By what?"
"Attack chopper," the terrified mercenary explained quickly. "They have a hind. The defense is crippled. We've taken massive casualties and we lost the entire fleet of vehicles."
Kiril swore violently. "OK. Get anyone you can find and fortify the defenses, but stay inside and away from the windows. We sit tight. They can't get the fairy girl without coming in here."
The men nodded and rushed off to obey their new instructions. Kiril stepped out of his office and shouted to the man lounging in the corridor.
"Ivan. Go and secure the prisoner."
Ivan sauntered up to his boss. "Secure her? How exactly do you want me to do that? Oleksandr is supposed to have her on lockdown anyway."
"I don't know, shoot her legs up or something so she can't run and tie her down. Whatever. Be imaginative. I don't care how you do it, just make sure she stays where she is."
Ivan's eyes lit up with sadistic malice. In an instant his demeanor changed from sulky to excited. "I supposed I could… rearrange her legs." He laughed.
Kiril was about to tell him to get on with it when his phone rang. "Blyat," he muttered as he answered it. "Da? What do you want?"
He listened intently for a few moments and hung up.
"That was the boss. New plan. Shoot the fairy in the head and get the hell out of here."
Holly was growing steadily more impatient. She had sent Oleksandr away after speaking with Artemis, knowing that his presence would prevent his plan from working, but was now finding that the solo wait was just making her agitated.
His plan. Could it work? she thought. Surely it would be madness to believe it could work. But still, this was Artemis Fowl they were talking about. What was it he always said? "Madness and genius often go hand in hand". She hoped that today was a genius day.
Wait for the explosions, then disappear. Idiot-proof. "Conceited little Mud Boy," she muttered.
As if on cue, the explosions began, ending Holly's extended wait. Step one complete. From the sounds of things, the detonations themselves were very large and very dangerous. Holly didn't have a lot of sympathy for those who were being targeted.
There would surely now be someone coming to check on her. It was the logical thing to do. It was time for step two.
What could possibly go wrong? she wondered, and promptly disappeared.
Ivan unlocked Holly's door and it swung open. He tried, he honestly did, but he didn't quite seem to be able to contain his smile. The prospect of hurting people tended to have that effect on him.
Two things struck him the moment he stepped into the cell. The first was that Oleksandr wasn't there. The second was that neither was Holly.
"Cyka! Where is she?" he howled, inhuman rage twisting his features into a vicious snarl. Impulsively he brought up his rifle and fired a swift burst into the cot, the shots buckling the metal and ripping through the mattress, scattering feathers in all directions. The effect was oddly comedic, and therefore extremely out of place. "How the hell did she escape?"
Letting loose a string of exceptionally foul language, the furious Russian stomped out, stopping only to punch the doorframe. A slightly muffled yell of pain followed him, succeeded by another series of expletives.
Holly let out the breath she had been holding, thanking her lucky stars that the obviously unstable Mud Man hadn't sprayed more bullets and randomly happened to hit her, or noticed that some of the feathers seemed almost to connect with an invisible barrier. She lowered the sheet of cam foil that she had been holding in front of herself and considered her situation. Somehow, Artemis's plan had actually worked. Extra sheets of cam foil weren't exactly standard to have lying around, but Holly had found herself needing them so often that she always made sure to carry spares. Apparently, her captors hadn't bothered unwrapping the package that contained them, otherwise they would no doubt have locked it away with the rest of her more dangerous items.
Speaking of which, she thought, I miss my neutrino. There's nothing like a weapon to reassure you when your life is in danger.
The human had left the door open – another lucky break for the elf – and presumably gone to tell his superiors that she had escaped, giving her more or less free reign for the time being; at least if she was careful.
She crept out of her cell. If there was another guard then she was sunk, but the corridor was exactly as abandoned as Artemis had predicted: that was to say, entirely so.
Holly raised her communicator to her lips and spoke quietly. "Artemis? I'm out. Amazingly your plan actually worked. Now what?"
Artemis gave a short chuckle from back at base and shook his head in a manner that was half exasperated and half affectionate. "Always the tone of surprise. Of course the plan worked – I was its architect."
"Cut the chatter, Mud Boy," came another voice that Holly vaguely recognized as belonging to one of the strike team captains. "We're on a tight schedule here. Captain Short, hold your position. We'll be with you in a few minutes. Galadhon out."
Pripyat, Ukraine
Galadhon and his team had been concealed in thick overgrowth about five-hundred meters away from the Energetik when the onslaught began. They had crept that far under cover of darkness, but at the time had dared go no further. After all, who knew what kind of technology these Mud Men had managed to get their hands on? Who knew what horrific surprise could have been waiting for them? Now, though, Artemis's distraction would hopefully permit them to progress with their objectives.
The sounds of Foaly raining death and fire on their enemies rent the air and the skyline was ablaze. The fairies winced, but none felt pity. They had all heard about Trouble Kelp and Retrieval One.
"Keep moving Butler, make yourself hard to hit," said Artemis over the airwaves, no doubt in response to something happening at the Energetik. "Galadhon, commence your approach. This is as good as it'll get. Foaly, return fire."
Galadhon switched to the communications channel occupied only by his team. "Alright people, that's our cue. Let's move out."
The long grass seemed to seethe and come alive for a moment as the twelve camouflage-clad commandos emerged. They stayed low and moved fast, maintaining a v-formation. It didn't take long for them to reach the side of the Energetik. A human, no doubt hoping to escape the annihilation being brought about by Foaly, ran into their path. He was stunned by a neutrino blast before his brain even registered that the fairies were there. Team Storm didn't even break their stride.
Once the target building was in sight, however, things became a tad more complicated. Until now they had been using the plethora of buildings for cover, but in order to actually reach the Energetik they would have to cross a stretch of open ground.
Galadhon raised his hand in a fist, indicating to his team to stop. "Five, Six, Seven and Eight, remain here. Lock down this area and be ready to provide cover fire when we make our exit. Nine through Twelve, move into the building and incapacitate any hostiles you come across. Two, Three and Four – with me. We're going after Holly."
The idea behind the instructions was simple. Foaly was doing an excellent job of causing trouble outside; four members of his team would be ample to achieve similar results from inside the stronghold. Meanwhile he and the others would slip in, retrieve Captain Short and make their way out. There would be so much chaos and confusion that no-one would have any idea what was going on until it was too late. Anyone attempting to interfere with the escape would be neutralized by his sharpshooters waiting at the exit.
Galadhon decided to check what was being said in the main channel as he began his approach. He frowned. It seemed as though Artemis Fowl and Holly Short were trading banter in a spectacular display of unprofessionalism.
"Cut the chatter, Mud Boy," he muttered. "We're on a tight schedule here. Captain Short, hold your position. We'll be with you in a few minutes. Galadhon out."
When reflecting on it later, everyone would agree that it was at that precise moment that everything started to go wrong.
A/N: You what? A cliffhanger? Seriously?
Yeah, I'm afraid so. I had originally intended (rather naively perhaps) to make the rescue all one chapter, but it was going to be way too long to really justify that. This seems like as good a place as any to split it. I'm genuinely sorry, I don't like to do cliffhangers (particularly ones that are this cheap). I'll try not to make a habit of it xD. I'll also try and get the next chapter up ASAP instead of waiting a week since it's already mostly written, but then this chapter actually was written and it took more than a week to get it up. Ideally I'll update tomorrow or the day after, but in all truth I am still pretty busy so it might end up being longer :(.
I actually really enjoyed writing this chapter (especially the first bit) - writing fast paced violent action is super fun to me apparently. Maybe I should see someone about that. Like I said, I hope it wasn't over the top, but I really wanted to try and convey the brutality of actual conflict (not that I've actually experienced it, thank God). As I'm sure you're all aware by now, I'm certainly not above shamelessly begging for reviews, so...
Any feedback would be greatly appreciated! It makes writing a joy, and obviously helps motivate me to update more. Love you guys :D
-Kio
Yep. Shameless.
