(A/N) Hey guys, it's Wednesday, and that means that it's time for another update! This chapter is brought to you by the amazing Ayane458, detailing the events immediately after Florida getting shot, from the eyes of Agent Massachusetts. Only two more days guys! Two more days to an incredible new season of RvB, and some very special news and announcements from us, so stay tuned for more. This is our official fiftieth chapter, and is a very special one, in my opinion. In it we see, for the first time, one of the main villains of this fic, the Insurrectionist Lieutenant Ian Harper, although admittedly, it's more of a glimpse.
As always, enjoy!
Chapter Fifty – The Fast and The Furious
Agent Massachusetts
Written by Ayane458
"Massachusetts...where to begin? She was always there when she was needed, the backbone of the group, the one person that you could just be yourself around, and she wouldn't judge you. Well, not too harshly, at least. When the rookies came, it was Massa, Florida and York that made them feel welcome, while the rest of us preferred to ignore them, to be honest. She patched us up in the field, she nursed us back to health when we were wounded or sick, and she never complained. In a way, she was the big sister to us all. Having someone like that around, someone who cared..."
"Reggie?"
"It wasn't something that I was used to, Gamma. She was...so...sweet. She deserved better than Project Freelancer."
- Wyoming and the Gamma AI (Extract taken from personal logs made after going AWOL).
The second she heard the shots go off, Massa knew she was in for a very long day.
In the mass confusion and hysteria immediately following, Massa couldn't begin to see what was happening on the podium. An armoured figure… two… the General being ducked out of the way as MP's herded the crowd away, desperately trying to restore some semblance of order. People running outside, panicking, some probably getting trampled in the process. Massa considered running in to help, but dismissed the idea – they had other people to take care of that, and she doubted she'd be given any forgiveness for abandoning her post.
Engines were started somewhere in the area, but Massa couldn't see anything moving through the tinted glass windows. In any case, the crowded area would slow anyone down.
"Florida's down for the count," Wyoming informed them all over the radio. Instinctively, Massa took a few steps in the direction of her downed teammate, all the way across the expansive conference centre. Carolina's voice put a stop to that.
"Everyone, get down here. Not you, Wyoming – stick with Florida and the General. Shoot anything that doesn't look friendly." Carolina was terse, giving orders as she thought them out. "The rest of us, we're going after them."
The engines from earlier had come from a group of three warthogs. Massa narrowed her eyes – she recognised the Insurrectionist colours on the armoured soldiers. Except… their armour seemed different…
While the normal Insurrectionist troops tended to be equipped with armour identical to that of low ranking UNSC soldiers, these suits instead were bulkier, with helmets that offered full protection to the face, not just the head. In fact, despite their bulk and lack of variety in colour, the suits bore a certain resemblance to the freelancers' own sets of armour.
Clearly Penn hadn't destroyed all of the information the Innies had gathered when they had captured Massa and the others, or else they had managed to send their findings off, because those suits had clearly been based on freelancer tech.
The Director wasn't going to like this…
"Massa, come on!" Virginia yelled, tugging at her hand. The two women ran towards the Freelancers' own transportation, two warthogs. Carolina and York were already on one, York driving with Carolina on the turret. Penn and Alaska were moving in and arrived as Carolina gestured to Massa to get on.
"Good luck!" she called back to Virginia as she hurried to take shotgun while the other three jumped into the other warthog.
The Insurrectionists' group was already mostly through the crowd, and Massa felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. While the crowd was beginning to thin, there was no possible way they would catch up to the Insurrectionists now.
What she hadn't been counting on, it seems, was the creative approach York took to driving.
Using several moves of dubious legality even in the current situation, York successfully weaved his way through the remaining civilians at breakneck speed, allowing them to travel through the middle of the square and exit the same way the Insurrectionists did.
Unfortunately, the lack of warning had thrown Massa out of her seat nearly onto the road.
One hand gripping tight to her rifle and the other placing a few dents near Carolina's feet, Massa was very aware that they only thing keeping her steady were her bloody ankles as the rest of her hung out of the Warthog.
"Massa, get on!" Carolina snapped. "You need to be ready to shoot."
"Well tell your boyfriend to give a lady a little bit of warning next time!" Massa snapped back, her voice uncomfortably shrill as she slid her legs back onto the seat, steadily easing her way back to her previous position.
Luckily, Carolina and York were far too preoccupied to notice her stupid voice.
"Whoa, hey, c'mon!" York protested. "I'm not her, y'know–"
"He's not my boyfriend," Carolina cut in firmly. "York, drive. Massa, the second that thing gets in range–"
"Things. Plural," Massa corrected tiredly. Riling Carolina up may not be the best idea right now, but as far as she was concerned it was payback for Carolina's dismissive response to her almost becoming a smudge on the road.
"Focus on the leader's ride," she ordered.
There was not any sort of rank insignia on any of the Insurrectionists, nor was there any difference in their armour that might indicate someone of high importance.
There was, however, the fact that the outside two Warthogs were taking protective positions around the one in the centre. Massa assumed that this was the one Carolina had meant. A Lieutenant Ian Harper, if her recollection of the briefing was correct. Cal appeared to have some sort of beef with him, judging by his outburst afterwards, but it wasn't in Massa's nature to pry. Well...to pry when it wasn't necessary. Swapping her assault rifle for a pistol (damn, there's still civilians around – people better be careful with their turret fire) Massa stabilised herself as well as she could with her legs and aimed at the turret operator on the central jeep, the only one of the three occupants she had a clear shot at.
She made use of her HUD's zoom function and fired as the left Warthog's driver swerved, blocking her shot with his or her jeep.
Above her, Carolina had started up the turret, but she wasn't aiming it at Massa's obstacle. She was firing at the Warthog on the right, keeping their turret operator ducked down and unable to fire. Carolina couldn't do much about the woman who stood on the back of the jeep causing Massa so much frustration.
Massa cursed as the driver effortlessly kept up with her aim, blocking her target before she had a chance to fire. She was certain Wyoming could have riddled even the driver of the front jeep with holes right now. Speaking of the other agents, where had the other three gone?
Alaska chose that moment to fly out of a side street a little further ahead than the other three Freelancers while Virginia wildly shot at the jeep in front of them. The woman on the turret fell, and York swerved out of the way to avoid her armoured body. Massa was certain that their Warthog would have come out the worse for that encounter.
"Where the hell were you?" Carolina snapped over the radio.
"Terribly sorry, ma'am," Virginia replied easily. "Al here thought an ambush would work."
"It sort of did!" Alaska replied, not happy with his bright idea being dismissed.
"Did you get lost along the way?" Massa asked.
"Stopped for drive-through!" Virginia joked.
"Cut it out, you two," Carolina hissed. The other Freelancers had now pulled up beside them, and the streets were almost entirely devoid of people. Perhaps a warning had been given out. "Virginia, see if you can take out that warthog blocking the leader's. Penn and Massa, as soon as it's out of the way–"
"He's dead," Penn finished. Massa nodded before realising that no one was actually looking at her and responding 'Yeah'.
Virginia aimed at the Warthog as the man in shotgun clambered over onto the turret. Penn shot him straight through the chest more times than strictly necessary and both Freelancer jeeps swerved to avoid the falling body.
Carolina had switched from suppressing fire to something more aggressive, aiming for the side of the Warthog-to-the-right, hoping to hit something vital. Unfortunately, every time her bullets strayed away for too long, their own turret operator would pop his head up and shoot back, forcing her to turn back to him.
Massa frowned, noticing something going on with the guy in shotgun.
York noticed it too. "Shit, rockets! Al, look out!"
Except the guy wasn't aiming at either Freelancer team. The Warthog that now only had a driver braked and swerved so that it was facing the Freelancers side-on, and a rocket hit the side, turning the Warthog into a large fiery projectile heading for the Freelancers.
Massa cursed colourfully with all the words her brother had taught her upon her entering the UNSC, Virginia proved herself equally well-equipped over the radio, York made an exclamation similar to his previous one and the other three remained stoically silent other than a 'Move!' from Carolina.
York swerved, up the sidewalk and nearly crashed into a brick wall, Massa leaning as far away from the building as she could while metal occasionally scraped against brick.
Looking back, Massa witnessed the Insurrectionists' improvised weapon collide with the other Warthog.
"Guys!" Massa yelled as Carolina turned to what had happened.
"No!" she screamed, the first break in her all business attitude Massa had witnessed that day.
Massa didn't have long to be either worried for her friends or impressed by Carolina's concern, because York called out a warning a second before he hit a parked car and through the Warthog into the air for a few frozen seconds, the world turning around them, before crashing down to the ground.
Massa must have blacked out, but not for long as very little had moved once she woke up. The Warthog had landed on its side, the driver's side, and Massa had been thrown from her seat and onto the pavement nearby. She quickly assessed herself for damage before moving: everywhere hurt, which she took as a good sign, and it all just felt like bad bruises. She might be black and blue tomorrow, but the armour had taken the worst of the damage for her.
Carefully sitting up and looking over herself to confirm her initial guess, she picked herself up and looked around.
York was still in the driver's seat, unconscious. His armour seemed mostly intact except for a few scrapes and dents, but Massa still wanted to check his head, which would likely have had a harsh meeting with the road.
Carolina had been thrown off too, but had woken up. She crouched on her knees and held her head with one hand, the other keeping her steady as she regained her senses. The other three…
About thirty metres down the road were two Warthogs, one flaming next to the other. The one not flaming –the freelancer's –had also turned on its side. Massa took a deep breath and made her way over there, preparing herself for the worst.
As she reached the Warthog that was not on fire, pointedly ignoring the one that was and the burning body inside it, she was confused when she found it empty.
"Massa!" Virginia called from the sidewalk, her figure mostly obscured by the flames. Massa rushed around to meet her friend and only barely restrained herself from hugging her: maybe later, but she had other concerns now. Penn was sitting propped up against a wall, looking extremely dejected. Alaska was lying near him, helmet off, unconscious but alive.
Virginia nodded at her, a gesture Massa equated to an 'I'm glad you're not dead'. "These two got the worst of the damage. The Warthog hit them head on –I just had to duck and hold tight." Massa nodded back before busying herself with Al, while Virginia piped in again. "I checked him out. He had one hell of a tap to the head at some point and he probably injured something in one of his legs based on how Penn and I had to get him out of his seat, but he's in no danger."
Massa smiled although no one could see it, and agreed with Virginia's assessment. "What about you two?"
Virginia waited patiently for Penn to answer first, which he did almost sullenly. "I'm fine."
Massa wasn't entirely sure whether or not she was willing to take that at face value, but decided it could wait. Virginia would probably tell her if she'd noticed anything wrong with him, anyway.
"Back hurts where I landed," Virginia told her. "Nothing more than that."
"Good," Massa sighed in relief. "I'm going back to check on York. Yell if anyone… uh, breaks a bone."
"Will do," Virginia replied drily as Massa jogged back.
Carolina and York seemed to have both recovered, and Carolina was gently helping York out of his seat.
"I take it that the others are fine?" Carolina asked as she approached.
"Yes, ma'am. Al's unconscious, but I can't find any serious injuries among them. We were lucky," Massa reported dutifully, adding the last to make sure Carolina understood that they weren't actually invincible. Although considering recent events, Carolina likely knew that well.
"And they got away," Carolina snapped.
"We'll get 'em next time, Carolina," York promised, easing his legs out of the Warthog and shakily rising to his feet.
"Massa, check York," Carolina ordered. "I need to report this to the Director."
With that, she walked off, still within sight but far enough away that none of them would catch any words over the Director and Carolina's private line. York and Massa exchanged looks, knowing full well that Carolina had just spared them the brunt of the Director's anger.
