Author's Note: Sorry about that cliffhanger (yeah, not really). I'd like to say thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter: LyndaKey1, HatchetHaro, KATT9033, GuardianStarka, inukag94, and Kit Williams. Your continued support means more to me than you can know.
Please forgive any typos and so forth. I'll be going over it again later to check but I'm just so done with this chapter right now. I can't re-read it for the fifty-billionth time. I wanted to get it up tonight. So, you're welcome.
WARNING: The gore continues.
Chapter Thirty-Six
New Saint Etienne, Governor's Mansion
"You don't understand," Jolene Krumfelt said in a heartbroken sob.
She held the handgun trained on Amy as Starr looked back at her from across the Reaper, the Covenant reticle sighted and ready.
"Y-you don't..." Jolene sniffed, "...understand."
Amy's finger was poised on the trigger, but Jolene swiftly tipped back the gun in her hand, put barrel in her own mouth, and fired.
The projectile slammed through her head, painting the floor and a part of the wall behind her with a red smear of her brains.
"Shit!" Starr shrieked.
It was one thing to be ready to kill people. To kill people, or see people dead and dying. It was another monster altogether to watch someone kill themself.
"Sarge?!" came Cory's frantic voice.
"I'm fine," Amy croaked.
There wasn't a place in her mind to process this and this wasn't the time to find one. All Starr could do right then was cram the feelings down and pull a blanket of mental numbness over her spinning mind. They still had a job to do.
She crossed the room toward markers as Trice, Winnefrid, Eeth, and Antho jogged back to the door, "She fucking shot herself," Amy spat as she pushed past them.
Stepping back out into the night, Starr and the rest of the team followed behind Kote and Daniel. They ran the length of the porch and slinked past the foot of the east wing. As they past the corner they began across the courtyard which sprawled to fill the middle of the building's large U shape. From the time, months ago, when Amy had toured the place, she remembered the courtyard as a manicured garden area full of blooming bushes, bird feeders and baths, and pieces of art. Now it looked like a moon-lit hobo camp. There were masses of tents and tarps strung from ratchet straps and lines, relocated furniture in jumbles, and clothing hung out to dry.
The sound of approaching battle was a dull and constant roar beyond the house. As they crossed to the west wing a few red and yellow dots began drifting around on HUDs up ahead.
Gunfire broke out and Amy's noise-dampening headset activated as a hail of bullets struck Daniel and Kote, their shields fairing in bolts of yellow as they dove for cover in the courtyard. The others scattered behind them and rounds chewed the ground at Amy's heels then carved chunks in the polycrete surface of a statue, spitting bits as Starr flattened herself against the opposite side and waited for the barrage to end.
When it did, a female voice yelled, "I got contacts! Sneaking up in the yard!"
There was a whoop and a few more gunshots rang from the upper floor window down into the courtyard, thwacking through tarpaulins and sending splintering wood from heavy furniture. To Amy's left, Vae wagered a glance from behind a hulking fountain and returned fire, lobbing plasma rounds toward the upper floor of the wing. A spastic spray of bullets zinged and splattered, rippling 'Barcaam's shields as he ducked back down.
"Hide and seek, asshole," a gruff male voice called.
The fuck? Amy thought.
Ashmund's people shouldn't be able to see them. Not just because they were moving in active camouflage, but because when Yipip had synched the armor of Daniel's army he had altered the shielding signatures. Their markers shouldn't appear on any displays not linked to the system.
A plasma grenade sailed in a gentle arc from within the courtyard, fizzing and crackling through the night air as it trailed a tail of blue-white like a little comet. It came to rest and stuck fast to the upper balcony rail.
"Down," a voice yelped from inside the house half a second before the detonation cracked the night.
The courtyard was illuminated in a wash of white brilliance. Someone inside the house screamed. Debris scattered and fell like rain.
"Move!" Kote hissed into the comms.
Amy dashed for the porch. She stumbled over something, almost losing her Reaper in the process, and muttered fuckfuckfuckfuck over and over again until her feet fumble-climbed the lip of the porch and her shoulder slammed against the building's façade stopping her forward momentum. She landed hard against the building down from the damaged upper balcony, sandwiched between Trice and Kote. A hail of bullets tore at them from a lower window, giving up as they disappeared beneath the eve and swinging to try for Vae and Jhett who made it to the building behind Daniel and Allison. Another volley joined in as Eeth sprinted for Amy's position followed by Antho and the dogs.
It wasn't hard to figure they had neared where Ashmund had holed himself up. Under heavy guard. An increasing number of red markers seemed to point the way as personnel within moved about, red and yellow beacons breaking off from a mass in an upstairs room and making their way down what had to be halls.
Daniel snarled and his shields warbled revealing him as he threw a shoulder into the seams of the closed door, barging in with Allison, Vae, Jhett, and Antho at his heels. The dogs zipped in with them and gunfire burst in a crazed volley amid shouts and screams.
Amy took a step to follow and caught a few yellow and red dots as they approached from the flank. She turned hissing a warning to Cory just as troopers rounded the corner of the building. One of the men yelped when she let loose a blob of plasma-heated slag. He jumped back just in time and stumbled into the others, fingering the trigger of his pistol and sending rounds zinging past Amy's head. She squeezed the trigger again, vaguely aware of Cory's cry before he and Kote joined in. Ashmund's people ducked behind the corner, peeping out intermittently to lob wild shots. 'Hakkamr pushed past Amy and Trice with a growl, and stepped out beyond the building's edge, Sangheili curses filling the comms. He was silhouetted in yellow and white ribbons of energy as his shields and camouflage flagged amid gunfire. He braced his footing and fired until his rifle balked. Exhaust plates fanned open and the plasma coil vented heat that burned his hand. Kote threw the weapon down and exchanged it for his sword, lighting the blade and charging with a roar.
Amy edged to the corner and curled around it for a quick glance. Ashmund's men were scattering, still firing in a panic on Kote as the Elite slashed at them, taking them down one by one.
"Sarge," Cory's voice came across her comms in a pained and shocked croak overlaid against the others talking to one another as they battled it out in the house; gunfire, unintelligible shouts, and snarls.
"I'mhit," Trice slurred.
Starr pivoted hard to see him, camoflage failed, struggling to keep himself upright as he leaned against the wall. His Reaper was perched butt-end against a hip as blood seeped in a dark and shimmering river down his arm. The window behind him was struck by a slew of bullets from within and blew out. He flinched, which caused him to lose his balance and toppel to the deck.
Seconds seemed to tick past in slow motion as Amy scrambled to his side.
"Fire in the hole!" Allison's voice cut through the link.
The explosion thumped the wall and sent shards of glass flying from the shattered window and splinters of wood slinging out into the yard and raining down on Amy and Cory. The darkened form of bodies locked in a hand-to-hand graple crashed through the shattered wall several feet beyond where the doors hung loose on busted hinges. They tuscled for a few seconds on the porch then toppled out into the debris scattered yard and rolled with curses and grunting out of view. Jhett pulled himself through the opening after them, shields and camouflaged down but a sword snapping to life in his hand.
Amy slid to Trice's side on her knees, catching sight of movement through the broken upper deck. She brought her Reaper up, no time to aim, and felt the oven-like heat of the shotgun's thermal backlash as she painted the lip of the opening with plasma charged slag. Starr dragged Cory back as tiny flames kicked up and died down at the deck's shattered upper lip. A woman's scream pierced the noise and she fell through the opening and landed in a trashing heap on the boards, her hands burning agains her molten face.
A man ran from the house, arms flayling. He was followed by a dog which sailed through a window in pursuit. Eeth and Antho backed through the remains of the door sending shots down range through the opening.
Amy grabbed Cory's sleeve and tore it open over a neat bullet wound oozing blood from his bicep. Holes were torn in his side, seeping hot darkness from his ribs.
Vae gave ground, slipping back out under Eeth and Antho's cover fire.
Someone on the upper deck peeked over the smoldering edge and opened up, trying for Amy and Cory's position. The deck splintered at her feet and Trice drew his legs up as Eeth side-stepped and adjusted his aim, swinging his energy rifle up to deliver a barrage from below.
Cory's face knotted and his body tensed as he bit back a scream when Amy slammed the nib of a precious biofoam canister into one of the wounds and the port opened to fill the injury. He bit his lip, face drawn against the unenviable pain of application as she repeated the process again and again, shoving aside his tac vest and sealing the wounds. The noise of battle clamored in their comms and made the air crackle like a living thing around them.
Then, Kote was there, shouldering Amy aside and draping a wedge of Covenant bandage over Cory's upper arm and slapping one on his side. The others seemed to pull in close to give cover against resistance from within. Jhett returned from the courtyard to rejoin the fray with the female dog at his heels. Cory's tight features relaxed though his face was ashen. He gave Amy a weak smile and winced as she tugged his over-shirt and looped his arm through the opening, securing it as if in a sling.
"Good to go," Trice rasped, pushing to his feet with Kote's assistance.
The Private snuggled his Reaper into position and wrapped his hand around the grip, index finger resting against the trigger guard. Amy slapped a palm against the top of his helmet and he smiled. Allison emerged from the courtyard and approached the porch wiping her field knife clean across her opposite sleeve. She shiethed the blade and gave Cory a questioning thumbs-up which he returned with a wide grin.
They regrouped and moved into the house. Daniel was at the far wall of the ravaged room peering into the foyer beyond. His body was poised like a loaded gun, and blood dripped from the machete free in his hand. The bodies of several of Ashmund's troopers lay motionless all about. On the floor. Against walls. Draped over a topped and marred table. The male dog was wallowing gleefully in the spilled guts of a Brute who lay at Daniel's feet starring unseeing at the ceiling.
"Shit," Amy muttered.
"They've got TICs, Sarge," Winnefrid puffed into the comms, "A few've got active 'flage, too. The sneaky bastards."
Amy wasn't sure why it should come as a surpise that Ashmund's troopers would have thermals or why she hadn't considered they would make use of Covenant battlefield tech. Azrael Ashmund had equiped his people well.
And a fucking Brute. Ashmund had certainly saved the best to protect himself.
Not that it'll be good enough, she thought.
Daniel's team picked their way across the room hurridly checking their weapons; swapping battery packs and exchanging mags, and rifling nearby bodies for ordnance and anything useful. They were well aware of the red and yellow markers floating around on HUDs, picked up from signatures on the upper floor.
The Elites' shields hummed as they recharged and came back online. Active camoflage all around thrummed and popped as it regenerated stealth fields that swallowed them one by one.
Daniel's green blip moved out into the great room beyond and the team stepped around and over bodies strewn across the floor as they broke into two files at the foot of a wide staircase. The dogs charged up the middle of the stairs, two monstrocities barely twinkling in camoflage that caught in the broken light spilling from open doors. The team began up to the second floor, the humans sprinting after the Elites.
Their lines broke apart at the landing and they swept around, coming across more of Ashmund's men bunkered down and hiding in rooms. They began quickly clearing the floor and shots chewed at walls and splintered furniture. The dogs darted in and out of the gunfire to down entrenched men with brutal efficiency. Stuffing and fluff swirrled around and bled from bedding and couches. The air smelled of burned plastic and singed flesh.
When they regrouped to hit the master's quarters, Daniel peeled off with Jhett and Antho following, plus dogs. They cut through another room, their markers showing them as they circled back to a flanking position on the balcony.
A lone yellow blip moved about in the room ahead and Amy could feel her pulse slamming in her veins as she and the others pushed down the wide hall. Eeth, Cory, and Allison slipped past the open door, moving to position on the other side. Amy, Vae, and Kote formed a stack. When they were ready 'Hakkamr snorted, stepping off.
His leading shoulder had barely cleared the edge of the casing and Amy heard the whisper soft sound of metal sliding against metal, then the dull thud of something hitting the carpet and rolling, rattling across hardwoods and out into the hall.
"GRENADE!" Trice managed to scream a half-second before the explosion lit.
A hail of splintering wood and shrapnel chased everyone as they hit the deck. Amy was knocked off her feet in one direction and slammed to the ground by Vae. Eeth tackled Cory and Allison and drove them through a closed door and out of the hall.
When Amy drug herself up amid raining debris she listed in a crouch, the unstable floor groaning beneath her feet. The hall had been blown open just beyond the threshold, the door hanging in splinters by a hinge at the edge of a gaping maw of jagged, ravaged wood. The smells of burnt chemicals and sulfur hung in the debris-clouded air.
"Stay down," Vae hissed, snatching her by the back of her tac vest and planting her hard on her butt against the floor as a hail of bullets chainsawed through the wall and tore through the air where she had been standing.
'Barcaam shoved her flat and before she could protest rolled to drape himself over her. His weakened shields flagged and crackled and hummed againat her skin. The thud of rounds punched through the adjacent wall muffle by Amy's dampening earpieces as bullets zinged and ricocheted against Vae's failing shields.
The barrage ended as the return of normal sound popped in her ears like pressure equalizing, punctuated by the dry click, click, click of a spent magazine. Starr was hauled upright and she tucked her weapon to her shoulder and swung around to sight through the hole cut in the wall. Azrael Ashmund was mirrored in the canted, cracked glass of an ornate wet bar. He chambered the round on a fresh mag but before he could roll out and into play Amy could feel Daniel's heavy footsteps reverberating through the flooring. She couldn't see the Elite but as Ashmund twisted around the rifle was jerked from his hands and slammed into the side of his head.
Seeing the would-be dictator knocked unconscious seemed dream-like, removed from reality. A weight slipped from Amy's shoulders. Her body hummed with adrenaline. Her skin tingled and her mind was numb. She let her arms drop and her Reaper hung from her shoulder by its sling as she sagged against Vae's side. But, the relief was short lived.
"Sarge!" Cory Trice screeched.
Amy wheeled around, bringing the Reaper up, letting momentum carry it around to her back when she saw Cory on his knees beside a sprawled Kote.
'Hakkamr was slouched on the floor half-propped against a wall and half-cradled in the indentation his body had made slamming into it. A trail of purple blood was smeared in an arc across the singed, gaudy floral wallpaper behind him. Exposed skin was torn, peeled back in ragged tears over bone and tissues beneath. Both of Kote's raw hands were clasped to his collar and a river of perse pumped between his fingers around the piked end of a metal support beam protruding from his chest above the line of his shattered assault harness.
"Oh, God," Starr rasped, closing the distance in three steps and pulling Cory back as she dropped to her knees.
Kote twitched and choked as she unlatched his helmet unleashing a river of blood which ran from his mouth.
"Fuck," Amy breathed with a squeak, rummaging in her pockets.
'Hakkamr wriggled and made wet slurping sounds as she rattled a can of biofoam. Blood flecked from his lips which were drawn back over orange-green tinted fangs. Wide-eyes full of rage were locked onto the ravaged door. A trembling, blood covered hand came away from his neck. Amy could see the gray-yellow of bone at the joints of his knucles as he reached toward where Daniel was binding Ashmund.
"It's okay," Starr said breathlessly. "We got him. We got him, Kote," she said, her voice tight as she pressed the biofoam canister to his neck. The delivery nib sputtered, coughed a blob of foam, and hissed empty.
"Shit."
Amy guided Kote's tattered hand back and tried unsuccessfully to staunch the blood flowing from his chest around the wound with her palms. "We've got to get the bleeding stopped," she said, collecting her control even as her voice hitched and her hands shook. She searched Kote's armor but came up empty.
"Vae, give me your bandages," she yelled in desperation.
Kote slipped his hand away and reached past her shoulder again, his eyes slowly dimming.
"We got him," Amy squeaked in reassurance, again moving his hand back to the wound, "Just, hang on, Kote."
His mouth parts worked to form words that would not come. His tongue churned the blood rising in his throat into a froth which spilled from his mouth and slid down his neck.
"Sergeant Starr," 'Barcam said in a low voice.
Amy felt 'Hakkamr's tensed body begin to slack. He tried to speak but his breath came in agonizing rasps. His mandibles opened wide and his nostril slits flared. He was bleeding to death, his body starving for oxygen.
She became frantic, screaming "Vae, come on, we're losing him," not looking up from her task.
"Sarge," Cory said in a small voice.
Kote's hand was dripping blood across her shoulder as he reached, arm stretching to its full length and fingers wriggling weakly. The light in his eyes fading.
"Godfuckingdamnit," Amy seethe, looking into Kote's face, seeing his twitching mandibles pulling up on one side, his eyes far away.
"Sargent Starr," Allison said.
"Kote, hold on," Amy pleaded before screaming over her shoulder, "Somebody fucking help me!"
"Amy," Eeth said softly.
"What!" she yelled, her voice squelching hoarse as she turned to see them watching her.
They were dirty and bleeding from their own, less critical injuries, their faces vacant but their eyes knowing, telling her the truth she wasn't ready to hear.
Allison removed her helmet. Her visor was cracked in half and her nose was swollen; her hands were cut up and her arms were scratched and bloody. Trice was next to her, his Reaper all but tied to his damaged arm. Eeth stood behind them equally scraped and bruised, armor cracked and dented. There was a bullet hole in the shaft of his boot leaking blood onto the floor. Vae eased closer from one side, right hand holding left bicep as purple seeped from a crack in the armor and ran through his fingers.
Jhett stepped into the hall, the faceplate of his helm shattered and blood trickling from his nostrils, "Let him go," he murmured, taking her arm and gently pulling her to her feet.
Her jaw trembled and she thought about pulling away. She wanted to argue but couldn't find the words as reality seeped in and adrenaline ebbed in her veins. She was left suddenly exhausted and confused. And when she looked back at Kote he was still reaching, his hand and arm wracked with a tremor which shook his whole body.
He was sitting there in an expanding pool of his own blood. Smiling.
The far-off look in his eyes was clouded as his life drained away, but Amy could see the longing as he reached for something no one else could see.
"...Penny..." he managed to cough.
Starr felt her knees go weak and tears filled her eyes.
Footsteps thumped against the floor and Amy looked up to see Daniel approaching. Ashmund was left laying on his face on a singed oriental rug. The dogs had slunk in to sniff at his motionless form as Antho lingered just out on the balcony. The pudgy, shy Elite kept his head down and his eyes averted from the sight of the Stealth Major bleeding out in the hallway.
Daniel freed the machete from its holster but Eeth moved to intercept him, "No," the Stealth Minor rasped, dropping his head respectfully, "He was my file-mate."
The rest was left unsaid and Daniel stowed his weapon with a nod.
Amy turned into Jhett, unable to watch as 'Garen drew and lit his sword. She flinched, eyes screwed shut at the heavy, wet, sizzling crack as the energy blade was buried in Kote's chest.
"A warrior at birth," Starr heard Eeth murmur, his words translated in her comms.
"A warrior in death," the others rumbled in unison.
The moment of stillness was broken by a long groan. Everyone turned to see Azrael Ashmund pulling against his bonds. With his wrists bound behind his back he was uselessly flopping his tied arms like broken wings, legs peddling uncoordinated against the carpet. The dogs circled, hopping around him with tails wagging, looking from Ashmund to Antho, Ashmund to Antho as if begging for the command.
The Elite made a tight fist at his side then splayed his fingers. The dogs whined and worked to contain their excitement, laying on their bellies with their heads on their forepaws, tongues playing at their teeth as they watched the bound human struggle back to consciousness.
There was an explosion close enough to make the house shutter followed by the advancing sound of distant gunfire. Daniel stepped off and snorted. The others followed, marshaling to his battlefield hand signals. Ashmund looked up in time to see the rest of Daniel's team enter the room as a gnarled, mangled Sangheili hand reached for him.
"No!" the man yelled, eyes full of hate as he tried to wriggle away. "You can't win this," Azrael said through clenched teeth, trashing as he was lifted from the floor.
Daniel paused, holding Ashmund by the collar and looking at the man with open contempt.
Azrael smiled. His ear was bleeding, leaking a thin trail of red that ended in a spreading stain on the front of his shirt. His tie was loose and askew and blood was smeared and matted with carpet fibers and glass shards ground in one side of his head. He looked deceptively like a disheveled banker. Like one of the cred-stock traders in a history book from after the collapse of paper and minted money.
"You. Won't. Win," Ashmund spat, "This is my planet. These people belong to me!"
Daniel looked him over with a droll expression.
"Do you really think they will allow you to do this?" Azrael went on, "My followers are everywhere."
"But, for you, it's over," Amy snarled.
Ashmund blinked, turning to see her standing at Daniel's side. Recognition dawned on the man's face.
It should. They had once sat across the political table from one another. Many times. For hours. Back when she was trying to reconcile the UEG's requirements with the people's demands. Back when she had believed Ashmund spoke in-part for the rebel factions and wanted what was best for everyone. But, he was nothing more than a tyrant. He had poisoned people, children, and condemned them to a fatal illness and a horrible death in his attempt at domination. He had enslaved a city and had had countless numbers slaughtered, others fed to Brutes.
"Why, Sergeant Starr," he said amiably, as if he had just then remembered who she was. His broad smile revealed perfect teeth and he said, "I do believe purple is your color."
Amy looked down and saw her hands, her arms, her shirt and her pants. She was covered in Kote's blood.
She clenched her fists and set her jaw, and a smile broke across Azrael's face as if he had won some small victory. He turned to Daniel, "It was you," back to Amy, his eyes twinkling, "Wasn't it?"
Ashmund leered into the silence when no one spoke.
"Oh, now, don't be shy. It was you. It was your little hovel out in the country infiltrated by my man. Humm? Wasn't it? Tell me," his face grew dark and he snapped, "Did you watch her die?"
Amy was barely able to whisper, "What?"
"Oh, Gilbert told me. About how there was a cemetery plot and a grave covered in flowers, a headstone with the names of that treacherous bitch and my children carved in it."
Starr felt her lungs turn to stone, unable to draw in air as he went on, "Gill painted quite a lovely picture. Truly he did. It's really too bad she decided to betray me, to run away like the tramp she was."
"Shut up," Amy said, her voice barely audible.
He went on, "I have acquired everything I need. Doctor Guthrie might have been able to save her. So, what I want to know is: did the eyes I'm looking into watch her die?"
"You sick son-of-a-bitch," Amy hissed.
Ashmund laughed, coughed, then laughed some more, "And you," he turned back to Daniel, "You must be the one who is infatuated with Hagart's daughter."
Daniel's hard expression cracked and he blinked.
Azrael tisked, "Sergeant Starr shared quite a bit with Gilbert, I'm afraid."
Daniel looked at Amy.
"I.. I..." she stammered.
"Did, what is her name?" Ashmund asked in jest, "Ah, yes, Lucinda. That's it."
Daniel jerked his gaze back to the man still clutched by and dangling from his fist. Scarred mandibles drew into a silent sneer of warning. A warning Azrael didn't heed.
"Did Lucinda find her father shot in the head? Oh, tell me she's the one who found him."
Daniel's lips quivered, skinning back to reveal crooked fangs. He tightened his grip, twisting his fist into Ashmund's collar.
"Did she cry? Was it awful for her? Did you comfort her," Azrael cocked a bushy brow, "as a man comforts a woman?"
Daniel growled, the sound rolling up from his chest as his whole body tensed, the tendons in his neck standing out in cords. His eyes narrowed over pupils constricted to tiny slits, nostrils flexing as he drew Ashmund's face close to his own.
Azrael smiled all the more and said mockingly, "Then again, you do appear to be barely more than half a man," his smile turned down to a frown of pity and disgust, "Perhaps I should comfort her for you."
A hiss rattled in Daniel's throat, his body trembling as veins stood in relief against the muscles of his arm. His hand unwound form the fabric of Ashmund's shirt and the man dropped to the floor, his legs buckling to send him down on his knees. Azrael doubled over and hooted and choked on his laughter as Daniel whirled, hand clenching and mandibles working as he reined in his anger. The scarred Elite paced away two steps then turned on is heel, his face a mask of fury, his wrath terrifying as his resolve became absolute.
Daniel snatched Ashmund by the silvery, salt-and-pepper, tousled mess on his head and jerked him up. For the briefest of moments the scarred Elite smiled pleasantly but before the other man could get his feet underneath him to stand Daniel began walking, storming from the room, dragging Azrael by his hair after him.
The others followed, taking up a flanking posture as Daniel moved down the balcony and kicked in a door, crossing the room and pushing out into the hallway.
Ashmund choked and screamed in a fit, twisting and turning from Daniel's grasp all through the bowls of the mansion. He bellowed for help that wouldn't come and the Elite moved without concern as his party covered him meeting no resistance. They descended the wide main staircase as a unit and crossed cavernous front rooms to the wing's entryway. The front doors were already standing open, but at the foyer Ashmund found his feet and dug in his heels. He was jerked from the house, and dragged, kicking and screaming and pulling like a dog at the end of a leash as they crossed the deep porch to step down onto the main lawn.
Elite warriors were everywhere running and shouting reports, relaying information about advancing, friendly movements and the direction of hostiles seen trying to flee. Gunfire punched the air afar off and nearby and there was the sound of crashing and shattering glass from somewhere inside the house.
"Where are we going?" Amy asked as she jogged to keep up.
"There," Jhett barked, motioning to the head of the long drive where a familiar green truck swung through the dented gate.
"Sarge!" Peach hollered, her face looking ten years older even though she was smiling like a fiend as she braked hard and the truck drifted to a squalling stop at the edge of the circular drive.
"We have need of this conveyance," Vae said, motioning for the Elite manning the chain gun to get out.
"Holy... fuck," Peach said, a little too loud to be heard over the low din of nearby firefighting, "Is that who I think it is?"
She slipped out of the driver's seat as Daniel hauled Ashmund up by his hair and slammed him into the bed at Vae's feet.
"Affirmative," Eeth said, mounting up beside Vae.
Peach scrunched up her nose and leaned to spit in Azrael's face, "Rot in hell, asshole," she sneered.
"Jhett, take Cory and Allison. Antho, you and the dogs go, too. Peach," Starr pointed at an Elite she had never met, "and you, you two go with them. Get teams. Search and secure the house. The whole grounds," she said, retrieving a Reaper from the passenger floorboard and tossing it across the vehicle to Peach.
Daniel slammed the driver's seat back as far as it would go and wedged himself in. Amy barely had time to secure her door before the truck lurched, gears grinding and tires squealing.
As they tore from the Governor's grounds and began down the hillock road toward the city Amy could see that New Saint Etienne was fully under siege. A few buildings which were once presumed strongholds were in flames. Glimpses of people could be seen scattering through the streets ahead across the blood-splattered, plasma-raked, bullet-torn, and body-littered roads.
In the city streets firefights flared up and died down all around them and it looked like for Ashmund's men and the suviving, terrified civilians it was every man and woman for themselves.
Any vestige of politeness or manners or even lawfulness was a thing of the past. Amy caught a glimpse of a mob tearing at the boarded-up doors and windows of a building with their bare hands. Someone flashed by a moment later lighting a Molotov cocktail. A firefight spilled out into the street up ahead and disappeared down an ally with Elites and soldiers in pursuit. The truck's engine topped-out and whined loudly...
"Put it in fourth," she hollered across to Daniel as she hung on to the roll-bar for dear life.
He snarled and grappled at the gearshift with the crook of his partial arm. Gears ground and the truck shuttered. Eventually he found it and the vehicle jerked forward with renewed vigor.
The suspension rattled and Amy felt like her brain was jarred around in her skull when they turned down an industrial side street without slowing and hit a patch of asphalt webbed with railroad crossings.
"Watch out!" Starr screamed as up ahead the Wraith spooled up and crashed into, and began to climb over a staged line of inert locomotives. It's bulky form swung around as Daniel jerked the wheel, jostling his passengers and sending the truck into a skid along the tracks. He slammed his stump against the steering wheel and the horn bleated as the Wraith trundled on in a sharp turn. The truck burst through a wash of radiant heat throbbing from the tank's exhaust panels. For a moment a smell like burnt kerosene enveloped them.
They jostled and bumped along before Daniel finally guided them back out onto a smooth roadway. He eventually found a path and rejoined the main streets and turned down Aubuchon Boulevard, headed toward the highway. Amy looked down the road and could see it was blocked up ahead from the postal hub to the airport by the collapsed base of the evac tower.
"Turn here," she said, pointing to a side street.
Daniel obeyed, slinging his passengers to one side as the truck bumped the curb and rolled up onto a wide pedestrian walk. They wound around the obstruction through an eerily silent, low quarter neighborhood. It seemed that the closer they came to the highway the fewer reports of gunfire there was to be heard. The darkness beyond was decreasingly cut with muzzle flashes and plasma bursts but more and more bodies were caught in the passing headlamps.
By the time the truck was brought onto the service road and neared the main blockade they found the area swarming with rearguard Elites and other soldiers who held the line of the wall. They were knee-deep in blood and gore in some places, the bodies of the dead piled high in others as the invading force poised to defend their take.
Daniel let the truck roll to a stop and disembarked without killing the engine.
"What are we doing?" Amy asked as she piled out.
Daniel didn't answer, of course he didn't, and no one spoke for him as he reached into the bed to drag Azrael Ashmund out of the truck.
Soldiers, warriors, and civilian enforcements stepped back. As she followed, Starr saw that mingled with the army's forces were people who had clearly effected their own rebellion and they watched as the man who had enslaved and held them captive was hauled toward the gate. Amy felt her stomach flutter with an awareness. She had already seen with her own eyes why Daniel's rage was considered gloriously legendary, but she had a feeling she was about to witness something which would only solidify his place in the annals of Ambrosia II's history.
"You... will never... win," Ashmund mumbled, his face battered and his lower lip swollen, split and bleeding after his ride.
Daniel ignored him, pulling him along without breaking stride as two Elites and three soldiers cleared the road, moving aside concrete barricades and a gate of coiled razor wire.
"Do you... hear me?" Azrael asked, hanging limp, the toes of his once expensive alligator shoes scraping against the asphalt and polycrete. "My people are everywhere," he said, "This... will never end."
Daniel walked out into the expressway several paces and dropped Ashmund in the middle of the highway. The Elite turned and gestured toward a group of warriors with hand signals as he reached to unsheath his machete.
"You can kill me," Ashmund rambled on, his face set in a sneer as he collected himself awkwardly and rose up on his knees, "but it will never be over. This will go on..."
Daniel brought the machete down in a back-handed arc, silencing Ashmund mid-rant. The man's head was lopped off clean, his body crumpling to the polycrete to bleed a pool of crimson at Daniel's feet.
The scarred Sangheili stowed his weapon and lifted the quickly exanguinating corpse. He began back toward the roadblock with Azrael's body leaving a trail of blood behind him. A warrior carrying a human fuel canister pushed through the throng of silent onlookers, and Daniel hefted Ashmund's body, impailing it on a fork of rebar jutting from the face of the gate. The body was doused with gasoline and without expression Daniel stepped back unlimbering his plasma pistol.
A single round lit the accelerant and as Azrael Ashmund's remains burned Daniel tucked the pistol into leather straps crisscrossing his chest. He turned and the ranks of those watching parted before him. Amy watched as he disappeared into their midst with a grim expression on his face and the blood-smeared, green-black of a Legion Master's cloak snapping and fluttering from his shoulders in his wake.