Chapter 7-2

When the grenade went off, I was momentarily blind and deaf. Worse, the EMP device had temporarily shut down my shields as well. I knew that was going to happen, but the thought did little to get me to stop worrying. I needed to do something before the Boxheads regained their footing and opened fire.

In essence, my task was already complete. The enemy was distracted and our people were in position. Withdrawing was an option and I'm sure a lot of people were expecting me to take it. That said, I'm not the kind of person to sit on the sidelines just because I can. Not when Kid Win was still in danger; not when there were dozens of Boxheads still running around. I planted my hands on the ground and forced my power into the roof. Unlike last time, I pushed my power outwards, trading raw damage for increased range. Hopefully, I'd catch most of them in the blast and either distract or disable them before they could hurt me. It wouldn't do to be taken out of the battle this soon.

My hearing returned and all I picked up at first was a heavy rumble, the sound of snapping bones, and screaming. Whatever I was doing was working. Good. After about a minute, whizzing bullets and some sort of electrical discharge joined the cacophony. PRT snipers and Dauntless, if I wasn't mistaken. If they were here already, things must be going according to plan.

The sound of people screaming and (presumably) dying should probably bother me a lot more than it did. Not something I could deal with now, though. I'm sure the PRT can find me a shrink later on.

Eventually, the roof gave way and I landed on something metal. I unslung my shotgun and took aim at the nearest hostile-looking grayish blur.

"A shotgun?" I asked. "Though I'd just get a foam gun."

Sarge shook his head. "Range's too short, at least on the hand-held models. They'll carve you into luncheon meat before you get close enough to use it."

"And a shotgun doesn't have that issue?" As far as I understood it, shotguns were close-quarter weapons. Then again, most of my gun knowledge came from Hollywood.

"Only in videogames, kid." Sarge said. "Anyway, this is a standard-issue PRT automatic shotgun. God knows you'll be needing it because that bow you're using might as well fire spitballs. No way we're sending you into battle with that thing. You need something with a lot more kick than that." I nodded in return. I suppose it was nice to see someone finally realizing how desperately underarmed we were in the Wards. "Now, I assume you know how this thing works, right?"

I looked at the weapon and understanding simply came to me. "Yeah, I do."

"Good. Now, normal rounds won't do shit against half-decent Tinkertech, so Armsmaster's been working on some shield-penetrating bullets. They're pretty big, so they won't fit in anything other than a shotgun. The gun can hold eight of them at a time and we can only give you 24 in total, so aim carefully and use your fists or your power whenever you can."

"Okay. I'm just…surprised that you'll let me have a proper weapon for once." And pleased, I almost wanted to add.

Sarge looked at me pityingly. "Yeah, well, regs just gone out the window, kid. Piggot's orders and we're not taking any chances with these guys. Just try not to get yourself killed, okay?"

My first instinct was to shoot it, but I couldn't be sure if it wasn't one of our own. My senses were still a mess and I didn't want to hurt one of my teammates by accident. Then the blur slammed into me. Apparently, it was hostile after all. Fuck.

A metal claw dragged me across whatever it was I landed on. Mechanical screeching ringed in my ears. That must have been the robot that took Kid Win. I pushed my shotgun into the machine and pulled the trigger.

Twenty-three.

The robot screeched, but seemed otherwise unharmed. I fired again.

Twenty-two.

This wasn't working. It must have been out of range of the EMP and the shotgun didn't have the power to punch through its shields. I holstered my gun and took out the glaive instead. If it was sharp enough to cut through Lung, it'd be sharp enough to deal with this damn thing. With my off-hand, I felt for the closest thing I could find to a head before shoving the weapon into the robot's neck. Immediately, the thing screeched even louder and threw me into a wall.

I pulled myself up and started running, narrowly dodging a volley from what I assumed was an energy cannon. Great, the robot had ranged weapons. If I remembered right, it had rockets too. Problematic. To make matters worse, the damn thing was fast, my sight still hadn't cleared up completely, and I wasn't sure how long my shield would hold. I couldn't fight this thing on my own. Not yet. I looked around. We were in a warehouse where someone moved in or built a small complex inside. If I ran into the complex, I'd be able to force the machine into close quarters where my glaive could actually catch it. If nothing else, it won't be able to blast me with rockets while I try to get within melee range, assuming it came after me at all. On the other hand, I could already hear the Boxheads running around within, which, while something I could deal with, could become a fatal distraction. It still beat staying out in the open and getting shot to pieces. I took a chance and charged inside.

Immediately, a pair of gangsters opened fire. I surged forward, disemboweling the first man with a downwards slash across his chest and slicing off the other's hands in one smooth motion. The survivor screamed, but I let him be. He was neutralized, would probably bleed out in minutes anyway, and I had a teammate to save. Callous, yes, but I can't afford niceties right now. Besides, I probably killed a dozen or so men up on the roof. If it takes a few more to get this done, so be it. Can't say the Boxheads didn't have it coming. To make matters worse, the nonlethal option had issues of its own: containment foam takes up a lot of space. I can't risk clogging up the narrow hallway in case we need to run back in a hurry. A third man came from around the corner and I threw the glaive at him. It tore through his legs, ricochet off the walls, and hit him again in the shoulder before returning to my hand.

Fascinating. I didn't know the glaive could do that. Something to write in my report.

Moving on, I brandished my shotgun. As far as I could tell, the big robot was duking it out with Armsmaster on his motorcycle. For the moment, that problem was dealt with. We'd probably have to finish it off when we got out (assuming Armsmaster didn't kill it first), but right now, my primary concern is getting Kid Win out before someone kills him to deny us our objective. I pushed on, running towards the gunfire.

I stopped when I sensed a few men taking cover behind a large door. Two men, three attack drones, and a flying drone. If I remembered correctly, the flying drone powered the others' shields and had to be taken out first. That said, shooting the drone down left me wide open to the people it was protecting. On the other hand, I was in a hurry and didn't have time to be careful. Seeing no other option, I went.

Like the others before it, the door slowly opened as I approached. The moment the hole was large enough to fit through, I sprinted towards it and slid through the opening. I took aim at the drone and pulled the trigger.

Twenty-one.

Immediately, bolts of plasma flew my way. I pushed myself forward, leaping through the air and behind a crate. A Boxhead charged me with a cattle prod-sword. I disarmed him, snapped his neck, and took cover. An attack drone hopped besides me and it took another two shots to take it down.

Nineteen.

One guy and two drones left. As I reloaded my weapon, I noticed that my ammo stocks were dwindling faster than I would have liked. Ammo was limited and there was no telling how many Boxheads I'd need to eliminate before we're done. I'd have to use my power more, or else I'd run out of bullets when I really needed them. There were only three of them left, so I could afford to use another weapon. Normally, my foam gun would have been preferable, but I couldn't risk clogging up the hallway. In this case, my lethal options, while regrettable, were necessary. Armsmaster even admitted as much earlier. I took out my glaive, leapt out of cover and pushed. Without thinking, I pounced the two robots and hacked them apart. The remaining soldier got up and calmly continued to fire in my direction. He was put down by a well-thrown glaive.

My power picked up battles all over the compound. As far as I could tell, we were winning too. At least, against the normal goons; Armsmaster and Dauntless were still busy dealing with the robo-panther outside. I could go and help, but taking that thing down wasn't our primary objective. Besides, it was Armsmaster and Dauntless, arguably the best fighters in our whole team. They could handle it.

I picked up Aegis and Gallant on the upper level. Given their powersets, they probably needed my help more than the others did. I ran up the stairs, taking out two more drones with the glaive. When I got there, there were two Boxheads firing in their direction, before they were hit by energy beams and started bursting into tears. Aegis walked over and covered them in foam. Huh, apparently they didn't need the help.

"Banshee?" He asked, finally noticing me. "Thought you'd be gone by now."

"I promised Alad that I wasn't leaving without Kid Win." I replied, sternly. "I don't like breaking promises."

"There were like fifty guys up there. If you're hurt…"

Hurt? I wasn't hurt at all, why would he… Oh. I was covered in blood again. I sighed. Say what you want about the glaive, it's not a clean weapon. Which, incidentally, makes conversations like this rather awkward. "Eh, it's not mine. The blood, that is. A couple of guys sort of bled over me again…which is really annoying. No wonder you wear a red costume. No one notices the mess."

Aegis looked at Gallant and said: "Velocity wasn't kidding…"

"Nope." Gallant curtly replied.

I wasn't sure what to make of their expressions. Were they worried about me? Okay, I knew they were just teenagers and I can't expect that much, but really? Priorities, people. Jeez. "Guys, shouldn't we be worried about Kid Win? I'm not the one who's been kidnapped. Do we know where they're holding him, anyway? I'd rather not have to check every room in the complex."

"Right. Of course." Aegis said, apologetically. About time he got his head on straight. "If our techs are right, Kid Win's just down the hall. The Protectorate's keeping the rest of the Boxheads contained, so we're going to airlift him out of there."

My power picked up two people close together at the edge of my range, but no one else. "Just two people in the same room. Kid Win and a guard?"

"Sounds about right. We should go."

Just one guard? That didn't sound right. "Wait. Shouldn't there be more?" The other two turn towards me. "Kid Win's important, right? Shouldn't there be more people guarding him?"

"You think it's a trap?" Aegis asked, following my train of thought.

"I'm saying that one guy with a gun isn't much of a guard detail for someone as valuable and dangerous as a Tinker. If I were in charge, I'd have placed an entire squad there, if only to keep Kid Win from getting any ideas. Where are they?"

"Up on the roof." Gallant replied, flatly. Ah, that explains it.

We stayed silent for a moment before Aegis spoke up. "We need to go. If there is a trap, the best thing we can do now is spring it." Gallant and I nodded in return. "If you two pick anything up with your powers, holler."

I focused my power again and picked up a few things. "Okay, two voices: Kid Win and a woman I don't recognize. Besides that, a few computers and gizmos."

"What are they saying?"

I could hear what they're saying, just not the context. "Not sure. Something about 'sticking 'it' in the other socket'." I sincerely hoped that this wasn't what I thought it was."

"Really now?" Gallant said with a grin.

Aegis frowned. "Gallant. I know what you're thinking. No channeling Clockblocker. That's an order."

"I'm just saying, we might have to call him Mr. Win from now on."

Our captain just grumbled. "Banshee, open the damn door."

I nodded, put my hand on the door and forced my power through it until the door came apart. We stepped through and found…Kid Win, with a scalpel on one hand and a screwdriver in the other, hunched over a woman with her neck cut open. Upon seeing us, Kid Win squeaked, panicked, and jumped five feet into the air. The look on his face was somewhere between 'kid caught in cookie jar' and 'complete pantshitting terror'.

"Okay…" Gallant muttered numbly. "That's not what I was thinking. At all."

Couldn't have said it better myself.