"Hey, Nik."
Nikolai sat at the edge of a cliff, a half-filled can of beer pressed into the sand beside him as he stared out at the dark, endless horizon of the desert. He turned his head to the side lazily, his mind almost immediately identifying the speaker.
His old partner.
"Oh. It's you... Fuckface."
SFO Norwich, known to his friends as "Gunner," removed a cigarette from his vest pocket. A flick of the lighter birthed a tiny, orange star in the darkness.
"Even after getting reassigned, you're still calling me that?" Gunner murmured as he set his cigarette between his teeth.
"Yep. My gift to you."
Gunner made a slight grin, bringing the flickering flame of his lighter to the stick. Second-hand smoke wafted upwards as he stepped beside Nikolai.
"It's 0500, and you're still sitting by the cliffside instead of sleeping. I guess some things never change. May I sit?"
"No."
A few seconds of awkward silence ticked by. Nikolai sighed.
"You really don't have any fucking balls, do you? Do I honestly look like I care if you sit or not?"
"At least I'm not scared of nightmares-"
"Shaddup and siddown."
Gunner sat down a foot to the right from Nikolai, hanging his legs off the cliff like his ex-partner. Until now, Nikolai hadn't realized Gunner was holding something in his hands.
"Whatchu got in your hands?"
"I'll tell you in a bit."
"The fuck? Why not now?"
"Let me enjoy a small moment of peace away from work."
Nikolai snorted in reluctant agreement. The two sat wordlessly for some time, until Nikolai decided to break the silence.
"How's reassignment?"
"Aaron Walker, my new partner? He's… really something else. At first, I thought he'd just be some runt in my way, sorta like you and... what's his name?"
"His name's Shithead."
"I mean, what's his real- eh, never mind. Back to that Walker kid, like I said, he's really something else. I heard that once, the boy was nothing but trouble. That he couldn't keep his mouth shut when he was supposed to. But apparently, something happened with him and his squad during the graduation process. Made him do a 180 in his attitude."
"Massacre at Oh-Sixty?" Nikolai guessed.
"Yeah. He was on the front lines, apparently. Poor little bastard lost his big brother. Now he's all brooding over it, but at least he does what he's told now."
Nikolai stared at Gunner, then at the darkness below him before swilling the remaining beer in the can.
"Eh, sucks for him."
"Yeah, I guess. How's your 'Shithead?'"
"Fantastic. Like a four-leaf clover in a field of motherfucking weeds."
"... I'm going to assume that's scathing sarcasm."
"Assume away."
More silence. Eventually, Gunner sighed and stood up.
"Here."
Gunner tossed a folder onto Nikolai's lap. Nikolai turned to him, narrowing his eyes.
"What's in here? Your dwarf porn library?"
"Just read it."
Nikolai stuck the folder in the sand, next to his beer. "It's too dark for that, dumbass."
"In that case, wait a few seconds. The sun's gonna rise any moment now. I think whatever's inside there can explain what's going on better than I can."
Once again, Nikolai sighed in frustration. "If this folder is what I think it is, then Shithead ain't ready for it. He'll get himself killed."
An orange horizon heralded a new day. Nikolai opened the folder, the text dimly illuminated by the newborn sun. He frowned.
"When's this...?"
"Tonight. It's a long road, though, you'll need to start moving in the afternoon."
"You kiddin' me? They didn't even give me a full day with the twerp!"
"Don't go whining to me, now. I don't make the decisions."
Before Nikolai could think of a reply, Gunner dropped his cigarette, snubbing it out with his right foot. He pocketed his hands.
"Good luck, Nik."
"Luck? I need a fucking miracle... and another beer."
"I can't grant you either, unfortunately."
"Figures. Useless, as always. Get out of my sight then, asshole."
"Good to see you, too." Gunner answered, grinning.
And with that, Gunner turned on his heel, leaving his bootprints in the dunes as he treaded back to the boulders. Taking one last sip from his nearly empty can, Nikolai stood up, watching as the radiant orb climbed into the sky. Darkness began to make its retreat. Soon, the overcast would set in.
Nikolai crushed the can in his hand and let the flattened aluminum disk fall off the cliff. He watched it plop into the sand, a hundred meters below.
"... Fuck."
The day had begun.
Chapter 36: Ambivalence
Hank laid back on a field of flowers with his hands behind his head, taking in the beautiful floral scene. The sky was actually blue, a sight he hadn't seen since he joined the Anti-AAHW. An unearthly tranquility flooded his thoughts, and his mind was at peace.
Hank knew he was dreaming: the flowers had no aroma, and the sky had been gray for a long while now. But he didn't mind. It was a good dream.
Sleeping was nice.
He nestled himself more comfortably. A sudden gust of wind blew by him. The gentle breeze ruffled Hank's hair. A deep rumble disturbed his meditations.
"Sh - t - h - aad~..."
Hearing the broken, echoed word, Hank looked up to where the warming sun once was, only to realize that the radiant orb had morphed into a face. The mere sight of Nikolai's visage ruined the rest of the dream.
"Shiiiiitheaaaaaad~..." The voice was much more distinct. It came with more strength.
Hank turned to his side. Screw Nikolai. Not now; not when he was having the best dream he'd had in months. Hank resituated himself, and the sounds stopped. He sighed in contentment.
This moment of victorious relaxation was woefully short-lived: a fleck of sand bounced off his eyelid. Opening his eyes once more, Hank grumbled yet again in irritation.
It was then when he realized that a giant folder was plummeting down towards him at terminal velocity.
"HOLY F-!"
Bap.
Hank yelped as he jolted upwards, barely aware of the papers fluttering around him. Though the feeling of the folder slapping his bruise-free face wasn't painful, getting forcibly yanked from a perfect dream was... jarring, to say the least.
"SHITHEAD!"
"AHH!"
Hank spasmed in shock, rolling off the side of the bed and landing in a tangle on the the floor. Nikolai watched in slight amusement as the teen struggled to extricate himself from his bedsheets, like a fly tangled in a spider's web.
"Damn. You snore like two rhinos fucking."
Hank tried to stand, but slipped on his blankets. Once he managed to get solid footing, he threw his bedsheets aside and glared at Nikolai.
"You could've just given me a light nudge!"
"I did." Nikolai replied with a shrug.
Too flustered for words, Hank watched as Nikolai gestured towards his bed.
"Time to use that puny brain of yours. Read those papers."
Hank rubbed his eyes, yawning. "Hmm... what're those?"
"They're mission briefings. For tonight."
Hank's eyelids drooped. "Mhm."
"Get your ass to the gym when you're done. You need more training."
Hank turned back to the mess of papers as Nikolai exited the room.
"And don't forget to rearrange 'em, in the exact order!" Nikolai's voice boomed from the hallway.
Once the door closed behind his partner, Hank stood in the center of his dark dorm in blissful silence. He turned his gaze towards the digital clock sitting on his desk.
Five-forty-three. AM.
AM.
He thought about going back to sleep, but he immediately banished the idea from his head. Nikolai would show no mercy if he tried.
As Hank let his mind clear up, he walked back to his bed, collecting the scattered sheets. If only mission briefings were shorter…
Hank froze.
"Mission…?"
Nikolai's words came to mind again, confirming his suspicions.
"They're mission briefings. For tonight."
The papers fluttered to the floor.
"Tonight?!"
"Nikolai!"
Nikolai turned around hefting something in his hands, slightly out of Hank's view. "Look who's here. It's about damn time. Did you forget how to count while you were reorganizing those papers, or somethin'?"
"Is it true?" Hank shouted, ignoring Nikolai's insult. "This operation? Tonight? A class three facility?!"
Nikolai slow-clapped. "And you read it too. You really went above and beyond my expectations."
Hank gritted his teeth. "I'm being serious here!"
"And you think I'm not, Shithead? Why else would've I waited here for thirty fuckin' minutes?! Damn, you're a slow reader."
Nikolai grabbed an object from his gym bag and tossed it into Hank's arms. A paintball mask, Hank realized, upon closer inspection.
"Er… what's this for?"
"You wipe your ass with it. What do you think you do with a paintball mask, Shithead?"
Slightly confused, yet interested in what Nikolai had planned, he placed the plastic goggles over his face, tightening the nylon straps behind his head. A snug fit.
"Now wh-?"
"Think fast."
A small handgun was suddenly in Nikolai's hands, and Hank heard a pop, then a splat as a jolt of pain shot through his chest and he fell backwards.
Hank's heart thumped in his chest as he raised a shaky hand to his wound. He grabbed at his midsection to staunch any bleeding, and his fingers came away red and wet.
But the blood on his chest looked discolored...
"Dead." Nikolai murmured as he lowered what Hank finally identified as a paintball pistol.
Hank sat up, shaking his head to clear the shock. "What the fuck, man?!"
Nikolai crossed his arms. "Mad, Shithead?"
"Am I supposed to be happy?! You just shot me with a paintball gun! With no warning or body armor! " Hank protested, wiping the red splotch on his chest. "This shit is never gonna come off my shirt!"
"Sowwy mademoiselle, I didn't mean to stain your dainty blouse." Nikolai slipped into a mock British accent effortlessly, with the babying facial expressions to match. "If you don't like getting shot in the chest, then how about you get off your ass and do something about it, hmm?"
Just as Nikolai ordered, Hank hopped upwards, lunging for Nikolai's wrist with an outstretched arm. Nikolai quickly reacted, sliding to the side and shooting two more paintballs into Hank's mask.
Hank stumbled and fell floor once more, rubbing the side of his head. His hand was now dripping with paint.
"Hey, st-!"
Before Hank could say another word, Nikolai pointed his paintball gun at Hank's forehead, silencing him.
"Time for a lecture, Shithead. Brass decided to fuck the both of us over by giving us a mission tonight." Nikolai growled. "D'you know what that means? It means this lesson I'm teaching you right now is damn important. Maybe if you don't learn something useful by the end of this, it'll be your last lesson."
"Goddammit, I've fought in missions before!" Hank sputtered.
"Pfft," Nikolai snorted derisively. "Those kiddy training-wheel 'missions' you went on were cakewalks. I coulda cleaned up those messes in minutes. You think it takes skill to shoot at untrained, unarmored fucktards who just run at you through doorways? Hell, you had two or three guys backing you up, too! It's time to wake up and face the real world!"
Nikolai lowered his gun, leaning closer to Hank and pointing behind him, as if gesturing to a faraway destination.
"From here on out, 'missions' become shitty. Real fuckin' shitty. Those Grunt barracks you cleared? They're gonna mean absolutely fuckin' nothing in the long run. The AAHW can always conscript more cannon fodder. But out there, that's where the AAHW sets up their serious, big-boy business. That's where they do their fucked up experiments, experiments that could turn the tide of this war. And starting tonight, that's where we're gonna be going. We're gonna do some good shit, the kind of shit that actually matters."
Nikolai stepped back. "I've been going pretty damn easy on ya, Shithead. But that's gonna change. You were mad at me right now for not giving you a heads-up, yeah? Well, I'll do you a favor and give my first and last warning: my brand of training will make Mikhail's look like a playdate. It'll be intense. Endless. Brutal."
"I'm ninety percent sure your sanity is gonna break, and when it does, I'll glue you back together. And then I'll break you again. You know, like how bones get stronger after they're broken. It's only been a couple of hours and I'm already tired of treating you like I'm your mommy. So, from here on, whatever I do is fair game, and if you value what little shreds of dignity you have left, you're never gonna let your guard down, even when you're taking a goddamned piss."
Hank flinched as another paintball grazed his face and impacted into the mat beside him with a splat.
"Get up." Nikolai ordered coldly.
Hank stood up once more. This time though, as he saw Nikolai's sights dart for his head, he ducked, and lunged into a tackle.
Nikolai slid back to make more room between him and the trainee. For the first time, Hank saw him nod in satisfaction, almost imperceptibly. It was then when Hank realized that he had actually dodged a paintball.
"That wasn't bad. Think of me as an AAHW sonuvabitch who's tryin' to blow your brains out. Listen for pauses in my breathing, and move before I pull the trigger. These paintballs may be slower than actual bullets, but the same trick works-"
Hank charged in, seizing the moment. Nikolai instinctively counter-attacked, using his free hand to grab at Hank's lunging arm. Nikolai was lucky; had he been a second slower, the teen would have been at his throat.
Nikolai glared down at his partner-in-training. "What'd I tell you 'bout fucking around with me?"
Instead of backing off, Hank continued to push for Nikolai's weapon, a grin on his face. "Oh, I heard ya. 'Everything's fair game,' right? So why're you so pissed all of a sudden? Do you need a warning too?"
Nikolai made an unfriendly smile and regained his stature.
"Yeah, that's right. Anything… is fair game!"
With a grunt on the "is," Nikolai twisted Hank's arm, flipping him onto the mat. Hank rolled to the side, dodging another paintball by millimeters and pushed himself up, ready for more. Nikolai slapped a fresh cylinder of paintballs into his weapon and aimed at Hank's center of mass.
"We're not done yet!"
Hank turned his body ninety degrees, and the paintball grazed his shoulder as it flew by.
He charged, yelling a battle cry.
Hank hid behind a punching bag, his shirt drenched with a half-dozen paintball splatters. Bright splotches of paint dripped down the walls. It had been almost two hours since the initiation of Nikolai's training session, and the effects of fatigue were visibly kicking in.
"C'mon, you're tired already?!" Nikolai jeered. He raised his arms up, exposing his chest. "I ain't even sweatin'!"
"Doubt it…" Hank muttered between breaths.
Nikolai fired at the punching bag. Hank started slightly as the paintball smacked into the leather bag. The teen closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Let Nikolai waste his ammunition. Eventually, he would grow impatient.
And then Hank would strike.
Nikolai sighed and confidently strode forth. "Fine, ya fuckin' roach. If you're just gonna cower under some goddamned rock…"
Nikolai released another empty cylinder from his firearm. As soon as Hank heard the familiar sound of the speedloader at work, he opened his eyes and turned to face the punching bag.
Now.
"...Then I'll spray you like the lil' bug you are-"
Hank push-kicked the punching bag, thrusting the mass towards Nikolai. Nikolai pushed the bag aside with one arm.
With a leap and a roll, Hank was already mere inches away.
A paintball splat on the ground as Nikolai accidentally pulled the trigger. Hank grabbed at the muzzle of Nikolai's weapon. One forceful yank, and Nikolai let go of the pistol.
'Got it!' Hank thought to himself.
He jinked backwards, tossing the weapon aside. Hank went straight for Nikolai. It was time for vengeance.
"EAT THIS!"
Hank pulled his right fist back, adding more momentum to his blow. This would knock that smirk off of Nikolai's face!
Nikolai whipped out a shotgun from over his shoulder, aiming the double barrels straight for Hank's chest. Hank's eyes widened.
"Euh-?!"
"So long, Shithead!"
BAM!
Was he dead?
There was nothing but darkness. Just like when Nikolai knocked him out in the boxing ring, all Hank could hear was his ears ringing. But he could hear it, and he could feel his head stinging with pain.
It only took a few seconds for Hank's hearing to clear up. By the time it did though, Hank heard what sounded like… laughter.
Hank saw a few glints of light in his vision. He wasn't blind; rather, his mask was completely slathered with paint. Cool, fresh air rubbed against his skin as he removed the headgear and sat up.
Now, he could both clearly see that Nikolai was indeed in hysterics, holding the shotgun dripping with paint from the nozzle.
"Oh man, if only you coulda seen yourself, Shithead!" Nikolai finally managed to speak, rubbing a tear from his eye, "You flipped like a damn patty onto the floor! Wish you didn't have that mask on so I coulda seen the look on your face! Hah, damn! That would've been gold!"
"That... wasn't fair, Nikolai!"
Almost immediately, Nikolai's laughter came to a halt. "Cry some more, Shithead. Weren't you the one who tried to act tough with the 'everything's fair game' shit, you lil' goddamned hypocrite?"
Realizing Nikolai was right, Hank simply shook his head and sighed. Nikolai threw a towel over his head.
"Take a shower and a nap."
Hank rubbed at his hair in frustration with the towel, further smearing the paint. He raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"Wait… did you say, 'take a nap?'"
"You're not really deaf now, are ya? Take. A. Nice. Long. Nap."
"Now?"
"Yes, on the gym floor." Nikolai said, the scathing sarcasm in his voice almost tangible. " Take a shower, get to your fucking bed, lie down, put your head on the pillow, and close your goddamned eyes! Do I have to put on your blankie too? Sing a lullaby while I'm at it?"
Hank cussed under his breath as he continued to rub off the paint on his face.
"Oh, and I didn't tell you to take the mask off yet."
Hank flinched as he felt another paintball splatter on his exposed forehead, the impact barely softened by the towel draped over his hair.
"Screw you, Nikolai."
"Sweet dreams, princess."
Three hours had passed by since Hank woke up. Though the nap had been rejuvenating, it had also been dark and dreamless.
Hank rose from his mattress, surprised to hear breathing from the other end of the room. Turning to his right, he saw Nikolai sprawled on his sheets, as if he hadn't rested in ages. As much as Hank wanted to jolt Nikolai out of his sleep in revenge for the morning's rude awakening, he thought the better of it and instead left as quietly as possible.
Hank carefully clicked the door shut and strolled down the hallway for a small walk. Many agents were at the mess hall, eating their late breakfasts. The rest were either preparing or performing their missions. Hank took advantage of his solitude and gathered his thoughts.
"Hank?" a familiar female voice called out from behind.
Hank looked up from the floor, turned around, and smiled.
"Hina! Eli!"
Eli raised his hand slightly in a small wave as Hina grinned in response. "Hi! It's been a little while, hasn't it?"
"Yep." Hank said with a nod, falling into step beside them as they walked down the hallway "How are things?"
Hina shrugged. "Here and there, but Eli and I and handle anything together. Right, Eli?"
Eli nodded.
Hina beamed. "Yeah, I thought so! Oh, hey, I still haven't thanked you for saving us against those BOTs! Doc said you'd be in recovery for a while, yet here you are! How're you feeling now?"
Hank rubbed the back of his head, which was still sore from hitting the training mat after Nikolai's point-blank paintball shotgun blast.
"I'm doing just peachy." He lied.
"Oh, and you have a partner now, right?" Hina continued. "Is he or she nice? They probably partnered you up with some bonafide badass. Right, Eli?"
Eli grunted. Hank couldn't tell whether it was affirmative or not.
Hina beamed again. "I know, right! So, Hank, how's your partner?"
Hank exhaled, making a small, nervous smile. "Oh, man. He... he's fantastic. Like a four-leaf clover in a field of motherfucking weeds."
Hina frowned. "That bad?"
"Ehh… how do I put this? He makes Aidan look like an angel."
Eli shook his head. Hina cringed. "Yeesh."
"Yeah."
A few seconds of awkward silence descended upon the three. Hank tried to change the subject.
"So, uh… how are your missions going?"
There was a slight change in Eli's posture, nearly imperceptible. Hina, on the other hand, straightened her back, as if shocked by the question.
"Oh... right!" She began, making a small gulp. "Er... missions? They're… they're great!"
"Really? Saw anything new out there other than loads of sand?"
Hina made a weak grin. "Oh, yeah! Yeah… for sure! Ha ha..."
"Like what?"
It took Hank a moment to realize Hina and Eli had stopped in their tracks. Hank turned around, furrowing his brow in confusion.
"something wrong?"
Hina stood behind Eli, her mouth slightly agape as if she were trying to say a thought she couldn't remember. Upon closer inspection however, Hank realized something.
She was trembling.
Hina's jaw continued to quiver along with her twitching hands. She swallowed again, this time more audibly.
"I... they made me... I had to shoot..."
Hank lowered his hands, slightly alarmed. "Huh?"
"It… I pulled the trigger... and-"
"Hina."
Hank's voice snapped Hina back to reality.
"You did what needed to be done," Eli said, his voice low.
She bit her lip, eyes fighting back tears. "I… I'm sorry, Hank!"
Turning on her heel, she ran down the hallway.
"H-hey! Wait!" Hank called out. He turned back to Eli in confusion. "What's the matter? Is everything alright?"
"Hank." Eli said with his characteristic monotone voice.
Nervousness grew in Hank's gut. "Yeah?"
"Things outside are… different."
"You mean, like, stronger agents?"
Eli lowered his gaze, shaking his head and whispering a single word.
"No."
Before Hank could question it any further, Eli ran after Hina, leaving his teammate in confusion.
"Different...?" Hank repeated to himself, as if his own voice would reveal the answer.
Hank stood alone, staring at the floor in deep thought.
"SHITHEAD!"
"AHH!"
Hank twirled twice in front of him and sprang into a flimsy martial-arts stance. Upon identifying the screamer, he grit his teeth.
"Nikolai, I swear to fucking God. If you keep doing that, I actually will go deaf!" Hank growled, rubbing at his ear.
"As if you already aren't." Nikolai accused, stretching his arms out. Bringing them back to his sides, he pointed behind him with his thumb. "Let's roll."
"Where?"
"Briefing Room. Then we head out in fourteen-hundred."
Fourteen-hundred. if Nikolai was referring to military time, then that meant they'd head out at... two in the afternoon?!
"Fourteen-hundred?! I thought you said we had until tonight!"
"The mission takes place tonight. It doesn't say when we head out." Nikolai corrected, "We leave in the afternoon so we'll be capping asses by the evening."
"But that's too soon! They gave us no time!" Hank protested.
"Tough shit. Early bird catches the live-grenade-before-it-blows-everyone-to-bits… I think that's how the saying goes, right?" Nikolai turned around, "Now stop complaining and get your ass movin'. All this waiting around is driving me insane."
Aside from the surrounding file cabinets all around, the Briefing Room resembled an expensive conference hall. A large, lacquered table occupied the center of the room, one side seating two middle-aged men and one graying woman, two Second-Class Field Operatives on the other.
Between the agents and briefing officers laid a folder, schematics and blueprints scattered across the wooden table. The middle officer, a grizzled, well-built man of fifty, laid his finger on some schematics.
"... From there, meet up at Rendezvous Point Beta. Overload the generator and exfiltrate, ASAP. We won't be able to provide assistance aside from an evac vehicle, so don't expect help if enemy reinforcements trap you two." The man in the middle instructed.
"Crystal clear, as always. Thanks." One of the agents replied.
The briefing officer nodded, while the woman spoke. "Any other questions? No? Good hunting, agents."
The leftmost officer shuffled through the papers, stamping a boxed region on the folder. "You're cleared. See you on the other side."
He turned to a junior officer behind him with the stamped papers and shoved the files into his hands. "File this away."
The young agent fumbled, almost dropping the folder in surprise. "Ah! Y-yes sir! Right away, sir!" He scurried into the darkness.
The officer in the middle glanced at his watch and scowled. "We're 30 minutes slow. Next!"
"AH!"
As soon as one of the agents placed his hand on the door handle, Nikolai shoved Hank through the Briefing Room door, nearly causing the teen to fall onto the departing agents. Unsure as to what to say or do, the two agents turned to each other and then faced Nikolai.
Nikolai threw a sloppy salute at the man sitting at the left. "Hey, old man. How're you doin'?"
The man sighed. "For the last time, Nikolai, my name is Dutch. You are to refer to me by my proper code name from this point onwards. That's an order."
Nikolai ended his salute. "My bad, Dutch. Won't happen again."
Hank pushed himself up, blushing slightly in embarrassment as he dusted off his shirt. Seeing that the two other agents still haven't left the room, Nikolai turned to the duo, evidently uninterested.
"Okay, I know I'm sexy, but you don't have to stare. Go on, you have shit to do, yeah?"
"We would like to, but you're blocking the doorway." One of them replied.
Nikolai stepped aside and jerked his thumb towards the now-clear hallway. "Get the fuck out."
The two agents walked out of the room, glaring at Nikolai as they left and pointedly slamming the door behind them. Nikolai turned back to the briefing officers, clapping his hands.
"Well! Now that shit's done with, let's get to work, shall we?"
As Hank glared back at Nikolai, Dutch simply gestured towards the two empty seats in front of him. "Sit."
Nikolai walked around Hank and crashed down in the seat to the right, setting his boots on the table. Irritated by Nikolai's forcefulness, Hank sat down on the left chair with a huff, crossing his arms.
Clearing her throat, the female briefing officer extended an arm. "Your file."
Nikolai passed the folder across the table to her hands. Red marker in hand, the woman skimmed the contents, sketching out arrows and circles on the attached AAHW facility blueprints, while the other two officers read through the other pages.
At the sight of this, Hank felt a twinge of uncertainty in his chest. He leaned slightly towards Nikolai.
"Wait… they still haven't thought of an attack pattern yet? After all this time?" Hank murmured.
"Shut up and pay attention." Nikolai murmured in response.
Rolling his eyes, Hank fell back to his chair, watching as the woman began to quickly circle and scribble on the blueprints as if she were procrastinating a last-second term paper. The leftmost officer was the first to speak.
"According to SatNet and intercepted messages, the facility you two are going to enter falls into Class-Three categorization, meaning that the probability of running into well-trained and well-armed hostiles is close to certain. The facility covers approximately 2,500 square meters, most of which is allocated to the first floor. Finding a side entrance in order to avoid detection would... expedite the process."
Hank was impressed at Nikolai's uncharacteristic patience. He had never seen Nik listen so carefully.
It scared him.
"Where's this 'side entrance'?" Nikolai asked, turning towards the woman.
"Here." The female officer responded curtly, pointing on one of the circled regions south of the facility blueprints. Hank was impressed; the woman, who was well into her sixties, had taken less than five minutes to completely analyze the building and identify every entrance.
The woman then pointed to a different circle east of the building. "A vehicle refit station, evidently. Note the multiple hangar doors. Keep in mind that there is a massive amount of open space around and inside this facility, giving transport routes a large degree of variation. Your first objective is to destroy the supporting beams... marked here and here. The destruction of this crucial hub will arrest their chain of supply and complicate their logistics."
She first tapped at one side of the building with her pen, frowning introspectively. "This room is disproportionately large, and it is against AAHW protocol to have multiple vehicle bays in any given construct. Your secondary objective will be to gather intel on what they could be storing in this room."
Nikolai narrowed his eyes. "There's a hangar door in that room. Maybe they're using somethin' other than trucks to shift their cargo, and they're storing it there?"
The middle officer nodded. "Precisely. Unfortunately, any evidence we have at the moment is sketchy and insubstantial. That's why we're dispatching the two of you to survey the area of operations. Get in quick, get out quicker, and tell us if you find anything out of the ordinary."
Nikolai crossed his arms and turned to face the middle officer. "That it, Uncle Darnell? What about all that side entrance mumbo-jumbo Dutch was talking about earlier?"
Uncle Darnell leaned forward in his chair and steepled his fingers. "The side-entrance is how you're gonna get in and out without triggering any alarms, sonny. I reckon you might not use it, given your... aggressive nature, but it still needs to be mentioned."
Nikolai sighed, leaning back on his chair. "I was hopin' for a mission where I can crack some skulls. Prancing around in some dumbass recon op sounds like the kind of thing you'd have trainees do."
"You are to take every necessary precaution to avoid engaging the enemy." Dutch reaffirmed. "We have next to no intel on the purpose of this outpost. One may argue that this mission is unranked. Expect anything from a squad of Grunts to a full garrison of elite AAHW operatives."
Dutch then turned to Hank. "This will be your first post-training operation, correct?"
Hank straightened his back slightly in surprise.
"Uh... yessir."
Dutch nodded and turned back to Nikolai. "In that case, our point stands firm. Nikolai, though your combat abilities may be substantial, you are also excessively direct in your mode of attack. Furthermore, you must establish a dynamic with your assigned partner. It would be best not to rush things, since you two have had little time together before this mission. "
"And whose fault was that exactly…?" Hank heard Nikolai whisper under his breath.
The woman tensed and turned an ice-cold stare to Nikolai. "Excuse me?"
"Sorry ma'am." Nikolai grumbled.
She tapped her pen on her lower lip thoughtfully. "Aside from Mister Khrushchev's objection, there is one more action item that must be discussed: what happens if there is a snag in the operation, and when should you enact 'Plan B'? We have devised a solution beforehand, but please bear with us here. You two will have a coordinator for your mission, and she will be given full authority to change your mission parameters. You may be pleased to hear that this person is a specialist in AAHW systems."
'Corey, maybe?' Hank mused. 'But wait, wasn't he away on one of his spy missions? And Corey's not female… who else has "experience with AAHW systems?"'
"Who, exactly?" Nikolai asked, showing equal confusion as Hank.
The female officer hesitated, then turned to Dutch. Dutch nodded and turned back to Nikolai.
"Your mission coordinator will be Former Prisoner Number Twenty-Seven, Recko R. Sunbur-"
"Oh, Hell no!" Nikolai exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. "I take a lot of shit from you guys already, yeah? You're fuckin' pushing my buttons on purpose now, are ya? Getting that AAHW bitch to monitor our mission?!"
"In such a high-risk mission, Miss Sunbur's supervision can prove invaluable. Given her experience as an AAHW engineer prior to her capture, leaving her abilities unemployed is most illogical" The woman explained expressionlessly, reorganizing the blueprints back into the folder.
"You think this is funny, or something?!" Nikolai sputtered. "This... this is...!"
The woman smiled slightly, but her eyes showed no mirth. "In a way, Nikolai, I do find your flustered overreaction amusing. But you would do well to remember just who we are. All we need is a single stamp, and you'll be assigned to a desk job until death do us part. Please do not test my patience, for both your sake and ours... but mostly yours."
Nikolai clenched his fists so hard his knuckles went white, but forced himself into his seat. "I can't believe it… that AAHW bitch is probably gonna get us fucking killed. On a scouting mission, for fuck's sake…"
She examined her fingernails. "I will overlook your transgression, and your vulgar language, this one time. That will be all, gentlemen. Please return in at least two pieces."
Dutch turned to Nikolai and Hank. "You two are cleared. Head to the armory and kit yourselves out."
Uncle Darnell impatiently tapped the desk with his pen. "Don't die until we tell you to, sonny. Good hunting and whatnot."
Nikolai stormed off, muttering curses beneath his breath. Hank quietly kept pace behind his partner, maintaining a safe distance. The door shut behind them with a slam. Dutch smirked as he stamped their folder and handed it off.
"Heh. Return in at least two pieces... nice one, Margaret. Ever the charmer."
Margaret chuckled while Uncle Darnell sighed, staring at his watch.
"Yeah, yeah. Damn it, we're forty minutes behind now! Next group!"
Hank scrutinized the arsenal made available to him in the headquarters' armory, window shopping for his armaments. He passed a longing gaze over the racks of light machine guns and sniper rifles, but he knew he wouldn't be able to access them with his keycard; they were reserved for more veteran operatives.
Nearby, Nikolai ransacked some lockers. The agents around them also preparing for combat didn't help calm the tense atmosphere; ever since Nikolai had stormed out of the briefing room, an invisible wall of silence had solidified between them.
Deciding to break said wall, Hank turned to Nikolai and attempted to start a conversation.
"Hey, uh, Nikolai-?"
"Not in the mood, Shithead."
Hank held his tongue and went back to choosing his weapons from those available to Novice Field Operatives. He removed a UMP-45 from an open rack, then slung it over his back. He popped open a lid on the box with the letters BERETTA 92FS neatly stenciled in capital block letters. Hank selected a pistol at random from the neatly arrayed within. Its black finish was slightly worn, but the action was smooth and the barrel was clean.
Hank grabbed a double handful of mags from the ammo sack and pocketed a pair of screw-on silencers that matched his respective weapons. After a moment's hesitation, he grabbed a knife in its sheath and secured it to his belt. He wasn't very adept with knives, but it seemed logical to bring one. It could prove useful.
Nikolai on the other hand, spared no expense in arming himself. He made an imposing figure, with a SPAS-12 slung over his back, a M16 in his hands, and a USP strapped into his chest holster. He eyed Hank for a few seconds before snatching a bulletproof vest from a nearby pile.
He threw it with his free hand. "Catch."
Hank clumsily caught the body armor with an oomph. He examined the vestment in his arms; it was an intricate tangle of straps, clips, and pouches, sewn onto a centimeter-thick layer of kevlar.
Nikolai snorted. "Widdle baby is confused? Does he need help with his diaper? Go on, stop staring at it and put it on. At worst, it'll save your ass."
Hank ruefully undid the straps and put the vest over his head. It felt heavy and restrictive.
"You sure we need this shit?" Hank muttered.
Nikolai hoisted his rifle. "The bitch who's 'overseeing our operation' is probably gonna send us ass-first into an ambush. When we're stuck in the crossfire... well, your vest is better at catching bullets than your rib cage."
Hank rolled his eyes. "Clearly, the words of a genius."
"Not genius, Shithead. First-hand experience."
O.C. Credits:
Hina and Eli by Kagami 13
Nikolai Khruschev (birthed by Nikolai247, adopted by Alias-Maxima)
*All other Original Characters were made by me or the team as a whole.*
A/N: Alright, let's stop here for the sake of making this chapter a reasonable length. 6,000 words should be the approximate average, with the exception of a season finale/more condensed plot points of course.
But yeah! Hope you guys are doing well; my junior year is just about to reach its peak of stressfulness. I think I can still manage to write though, so long as I don't go for crazy 14,000 word chapters.
As per protocol, let's respond to our faithful reviewers (you know we love ya'll).
Reviewers' Credits:
Deathdefier243: Aw, well, sorry to hear that dude. Thanks for all the support so far though (if you're planning to not stick around to continue reading Hank's Legacy, that is) and good luck with your own stories too! :D
Guest (Chapter 34): Haha, this train has no brakes man, don't worry! Hank's Legacy will definitely see to the end! And as for our friends Sanford and Deimos… well, when the time comes you'll see how they'll come into play. ;)
Thanks for reading, and I hope you stick around for more!
Guest (Chapter 9): I apologize if you felt that the "ass-beating" in Chapter 9 was seemingly cliche or uninteresting. I want you to keep in mind, however, that firstly, these chapters were written two years ago by me, where my writing abilities were not up to par with my abilities now.
Secondly, I ask of you to simply read on and see how all these events that may seem cliche to you now tie up later on in the future. Everything in this story happens for a reason, and you will see why in due time.
Thirdly (and I hate to break it to you), "ass-beatings" are actually quite frequent in this fanfic's future chapters. This is Madness Combat after all, and if nobody's going to die from these sorts of fights, someone is going to have to have their ass handed to them at the very least. But if that does indeed upset you, then I hate to say there's not much I can do of it.
Ultimately, if this turns you off from this story, I at least thank you for making it this far. Nine chapters is better than none, and your feedback is appreciated. If you have anymore opinions you would like to share in reviews, then I highly recommend making an account where we can go more indepth with certain opinions you have on the fanfic in a private message chain.
Cheers. :)
Danreaper: Hey Dan! Glad to see you enjoyed this chapter after what perhaps seemed like a stale second season! Hopefully you have the same opinion on this chapter as well, and there's definitely more where that came from so no worries! Thanks for being a loyal reader as well after all this time; really appreciate fans like ya. ^^
Kagami 13: Kagami! Long time no see! Happy to hear that you liked how this season is starting up so far, and hopefully you'll enjoy the little bit more of screentime I gave to your characters! Though they won't necessarily be playing a larger role, I'm definitely having them do some more important stuff behind the scenes (which may be revealed in an extra chapter).
Thanks for sticking around man! You've been with me since Final Salvation, and I can't appreciate that enough!
That's all the reviews this time around. Huge, huge thanks again to my editors/co-writers (Alias-Maxima, Sacrom, MCG, and Jackie); they really did put a lot of effort in kickstarting season III! While Sacrom and I were busy trying to ace the SATs (which we both got 1900s on if you're wondering by the way), the others managed to hold the fort and keep the story progressing. Without them, I highly doubt this chapter would have even been released this weekend.
Next chapter should start up very shortly. Right now I'm just trying to organize the colleges I'm planning to go to and such. Hopefully you guys enjoy reading this as much as my team enjoys writing it; we're really excited to develop the Hank-Nikolai relationship and the characters of everyone you know so far! Just remember though that this all couldn't have been done without your support; if you ever like/dislike anything in any of these chapters, point them out so I along with the rest of the writing squad can improve!
Thanks for the continued support everybody! We hope you enjoyed this chapter of Hank's Legacy, and see you in the next one!
Have a great spring break!
~Spirit