Chapter Ten: Distraction
Disclaimer: Nope. Still nuthin'.
The two jeeps rumbled through the dusty streets of the city of Vyronas, kicking up dust as they did so. Mordecai reckoned they had about two, maybe two-and-a-half hours of daylight left in the day.
Mordecai was seated shotgun in the lead jeep, armed, interestingly enough, with a pump-action twelve gauge shotgun loaded with 00 buckshot and a tight, accurate choke. Lt. Saka, better known as Beef, was driving. Three of Beef's best soldiers rode in back, peeking out over the camouflaged screens. The second jeep was a good twenty yards back. Lt Jankow was driving that one, with Dio riding shotgun, a light machine gun set up on the hood. Hawk, Hutch, and a third soldier were in back.
The radio in Mordecai's jeep crackled to life. "Mordecai!" a voice barked, "what the hell do you think you're doing!?"
Mordecai reached over and picked up the receiver, "My job. That's what I'm doin'. Who's this?"
The voice sputtered in indignation. "You know damn well who it is! It's me!"
Mordecai smiled. "Well of course it's you, but who the fuck are you?"
The voice sputtered some more, much more violently this time. "It's Mustang, dumbass! Who else would it be!?"
Mordecai was getting amused. "I dunno," he said in reply.
Mustang got a thousand times more pissed off at that remark. "I don't care what you know! Who the fuck gave you permission to leave the base!?"
"I did. I'm in charge of the anti-insurgency operations here. You have no experience in such matters; meanwhile, I have made a fucking career out of it."
Mustang only got madder. "That's not the point! Where do you come off with taking Lt Hawkeye off the base!? She's assigned to my personal staff! I want you to return her to base this instant!"
Mordecai chuckled. "Oh, don't be a you. We both know she's the best sniper either of us has ever seen and we both know she can more than take care of herself and we both know there's no way in hell I'll ever let anything bad happen to her. I appreciate the show of concern, but we got us a job to do, now shut up and let us do it."
Mordecai slammed the receiver back down before Mustang could respond and swung the radio to a different frequency, the emergency frequency, hoping to find some action. He wasn't disappointed.
"Anyone out there? We got a disturbance in Market Square," the radio crackled.
Mordecai quickly seized the receiver. "Yeah, we're out here. We're on Vyronas T-pike at about 43rd Street; we're five blocks from Market Square. Got any more intel?"
The voice replied "A bit. Local police called it in just now. Say locals are involved in an altercation with military personnel and are worried of a riot brewing. However, no units have reported a position anywhere near Market Square except you. We don't have a presence in the area, so keep your heads up when you go in."
"Thanks for that, we'll be there right quick," Mordecai answered. "Gun it, Beef."
Beef drove the accelerator down and the jeep sprang to life, the second jeep kicked it into a higher gear to keep pace. It was a quick ride to Market Square, the busy, bustling bazaar that was the social and economic epicenter of the city. It was a large open square, filled with shops and stalls and everything else. It was lined with storefronts and all other sorts of businesses. Mordecai could see some sort of disturbance was underway about fifty yards deep into the square.
Beef steered the jeep directly into the assembled crowd, slowing down greatly and leaning on the horn as he did so. The crowds parted, allowing the jeeps to cruise through. When the crowd had opened enough for them to reach the scene of the altercation, what they found was something completely new to the soldiers.
They found a decidedly comical pair engaged in some strange sort of altercation with a Vyronian shopkeeper. Mordecai, usually a decisive man of action took a moment to take the absurdity of it all in.
What appeared to be an eight foot suit of archaic battle armor and some sort of short teenager in a red cloak were engaged in a fierce screaming match with a Vyronian storekeeper and his staff and family.
Mordecai dismounted the jeep and walked towards the fight. "Stay on guard," he said to Beef as he walked away. Beef nodded and relayed the message to the second jeep. The soldiers readied their weapons and began watching the crowd and their surroundings for any sign of an ambush.
Mordecai placed himself firmly between the storekeeper and the short guy, shotgun slung at his side. He began roaring for them to be quiet, drowning them out by pure volume. Once both parties had quieted down, Mordecai set about something that quite simply was not one of his strongpoints. Mordecai was about to try some conflict resolution.
"A'ight," said he, "what's goin' on here?"
This lead to another outburst of shouting from both the opposing parties, each assuming it had the right to speak first. Mordecai was forced to shut them up again.
"Just be quiet!" he roared. "No more shouting, damnit!"
The kid in red kept shouting anyway. Mordecai seized him by his neck and lifted him off his feet. "When I say 'quiet' you had damn well better get quiet for I shut you up myself!" Mordecai roared into the kid's face. Shocked, the kid shut up. Mordecai did not put him down.
"Now," Mordecai said, turning to the storekeeper. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Dis wone 'ere iz de prob'lem!" the storekeeper barked in the thick local dialect, indicating the kid Mordecai was still holding off the ground. "Dis dog ov de mili'taree, 'e iz a thief! 'E iz a li'ar! 'E iz a cheat! 'E steal frohm my shop, when I cetch 'im, 'e lie to me! 'E say 'e iz no' a thief, but I find my goodz in 'is pocketz! 'E clap 'iz hanz an' boom! goes my shop! Smoke ev'rywere! 'E break de windowz out, 'e run, but no' fast enough! I catch 'im, now 'e lie more! Police call youz an' you come! You come to de res'cue of dis, dis dog ov de mili'taree! 'E iz one of youz, so you come to save 'im, but no' my shop! Windowz blown out, goodz stole' an' my store iz a mess! Whot am I to do? Youz mili'taree do whot'ever youz feel like, an' we, we payz de price!"
Mordecai held up his free hand at that point, quieting the man. "Hold it," he said, surprised. "Do you mean to tell me this little guy is in the military?"
At this question, the 'little guy' became extremely agitated. He began failing and ranting and screaming. Apparently when Mordecai said 'little' the little guy had heard something closer to 'so small an ant would need a microscope to see.' Mordecai was unamused. "Would you shut the fuck up?" he roared. "You're not helping!"
The suit of armor decided to step in at that moment. "Excuse me, sir, I, uh, well, you see…" it said in a child's voice, echoing softly around inside the armor. Strange voice for such a big thing.
"Spit it out!" Mordecai barked.
The armor became very nervous at this point and began sputtering. The 'little guy' decided to take charge. "If you would put me down, Lt Col, I'll explain everything," he said, angrily but evenly. Mordecai nodded and set him down slowly.
Back on the ground the little guy glared fiercely at Mordecai before breaking into an explanation. "I am a member of the State Military. I am a State Alchemist. What this man is accusing me of is not true. I stole nothing. The item he is accusing me of stealing, this map of the city in my pocket, was purchased at another stall. He refused to believe me and I decided I had to get away before he did anything drastic. I used an alchemical reaction to create a small explosion in the store which, accidentally I might add, blew out all the windows. When I tried to run away, he chased me and caught me by my hair. We've been arguing for several minutes before you showed up."
The storekeeper immediately began yelling again and so did the alchemist. Before Mordecai could quiet them down again Beef shouted to his commander, pointing towards the roof of one of the storekeeper's shop. "Boss! Look out!"
Mordecai wheeled around. There was a man atop the building, and he was throwing something, Mordecai could see it was a grenade.
Mordecai swung up the shotgun and put a blast squarely into the man's chest, but not before the grenade was in the air. It was one of the small golf ball sized grenades made locally in illegal, underground weapons shops. The insurgents loved them because they made lots of noise and smoke and were easy to hide, but only had a small effective blast radius so it was easy to use them around civilians. The alchemist, unsure of what was going on instinctively caught the grenade in his right hand.
Mordecai looked over at him as the crowd scattered. "Oh, shit…' the soldier breathed.