Cold wind bit into OTs-12's cheek, whipping her braids to the side and tugging at her skirt. A storm was inbound, bringing heavy rain and thunder, but it would not reach the area for a few hours yet. The doll judged that it would be the middle of the night by the time it hit, and by then she would be well away, sequestered inside the mountain base Griffin had stationed her at. "G17, status."
"Nearly done," replied G17, kneeling next to a boulder situated by a dried-up riverbed. SV-98 and RPD stood sentinel nearby, and FG42 was right next to OTs-12, arms folded.
"Everyone better start recalling their dummy links," said OTs-12 on the squad channel. "We'll be heading back to the base soon."
"Roger," said SV-98, and the others echoed her. G17 straightened up and climbed out of the riverbed, walking to OTs-12 and FG42.
"Major Sangvis activity through here. I'm guessing some sort of van or convoy, armored carriers plus foot mobiles, some mounted."
"Armored carriers?" said FG42, more a statement than a question. "Transferring troops, then. But where?"
"We haven't flushed out all of the Sangvis outposts in the sector," said OTs-12. "Perhaps they were reinforcing some in this region."
"That seems folly," said G17. "They'd know that we're operating so close. It'd be tactically incorrect to reinforce outposts in such proximity."
"Sangvis operates in strange ways sometimes," said OTs-12. "Someone must've ordered them to do this."
"Another Ringleader? So soon?" asked FG42.
"Perhaps." OTs-12 bit her tongue out of stress, all too aware of the implications. Sangvis troop movements in this area was a worrying prospect, and one she disliked dwelling on. The doll pushed the matter to the back of her mind and refocused on her squad. "Let's get moving to the gatehouse. FG42, take point."
The blonde doll nodded and ran ahead to take the lead while OTs-12 and G17 trudged up to RPD and SV-98. Both of them were oddly stoic at the moment, and OTs-12 suspected that it was the dreary evening darkness that was making them so. As they walked towards the foot of the mountain, she looked back west and saw the setting sun, a globule of molten metal sinking beneath the distant flatlands. The mountain range she worked in was rough goings compared to her last sector, all rocky cliffs and deep valleys, but OTs-12 suffered through it silently, quickly learning how to deal with the rough scree and narrow spurs she navigated near daily. Since the last battle, Commander Kerr had ordered routine patrols through the sector, meaning that OTs-12 and her Yew Team were often sent out into the harsh winds and perilous terrain of the mountains.
She could not deny the other two their evening depression. OTs-12 herself felt it: the oppressive weight brought on by the dark, an odd, melancholic feeling awoken inside her chest. All five of them were silent as they trekked forward, monotonously steady in their pace. Soon they had reached the thick forest of spruce trees that guarded the foot of the mountain. On the other side of the forest was the gatehouse to the road leading up the mountainside to the command base itself. OTs-12 craned her neck to look at the tops of the immense trees forming the forest as they approached. She had seen the forest dozens of times, twice on each patrol, but was repeatedly awed by the enormity of the trees.
The groups stepped under the tree canopy. The dolls all clustered together instinctively, hesitant to disappear into the dark forest depths, regardless of their dummy links. OTs-12 shared that sentiment, privately wishing that there was a better infrastructure set up for patrols. The commander insisted on doing it "in the rough," so as to not alert Sangvis patrols to their presence with reconnaissance outposts.
"Why do we need to be discrete?" SV-98 had asked. "This is our sector. We're the hunters here. Sangvis should be the ones hiding."
"Just do what the commander says, SV," OTs-12 replied. The commander had said nothing, though – her orders were instead spoken by Type 81, Kerr's adjutant. She had made no reply to their comments whatsoever, and left immediately after patrol orders had been relayed.
In time, OTs-12 had come to appreciate the commander's stipulation that the Griffin reconnaissance teams remained undetected. Sangvis operated far more freely than they might normally, and OTs-12 found herself strangely comfortable with the proximity of the enemy in exchange for more comprehensive information on their movements. Still, she would rather they kept more of a distance, especially in the wake of the sudden offensive less than a week ago. Comprehensive information was not all information, and a firm perimeter was preferable to a tenuous, ill-defined boundary.
Regardless, it was a cold, dark walk through the forest. Pine needles shifted under and around OTs-12's feet, and the dry cracking of twigs and branches marked the positions of the others.
"Do you think they've got food for us in the mess hall?" asked G17. "P7 promised something like that.
"I think P7 was joking," SV-98 said, mocking. "Maybe we can heat up a pot of leftover soup, if Kerr isn't forcing us to stick to curfew."
"Knowing her, she will," said FG42, her quiet voice unwavering. It was unnatural to speak at a normal volume in the forest, and they all lowered the strength of their voices as they conversed. "She's been holding the base even tighter to regulation after the battle."
"I'd take warm food in my belly if it means losing an hour of sleep," said RPD, and the rest murmured an agreement. OTs-12 was hungry for some food, having last eaten a sandwich during lunch before the patrol, eight hours ago. She was tired too, tired from the long walk down from the base and through the forest, patrolling the outlying lands with the rest of her team. The doll did her best not to show it, however, and she could tell that the others were the same. Sleep and food would be welcome, but perhaps not available. Commander Kerr's rigourous patrol routine had sapped them of most independence. They woke early in the morning to attend intelligence briefings and training sessions, attending lunch, then embarked on the hours-long afternoon/evening patrol they were finishing now, only to be hustled off to bed with little food. None of them received much sleep thanks to the early alarm imposed by the commander, but it was not for lack of trying.
They traveled in silence for a little while longer. OTs-12 removed her earmuffs and clipped them on her belt, tired of the hot abrasiveness around her ears. The cold forest wind was gone amongst the thick trees, the air quite still between the trunks. OTs-12 started to feel tired again, a wave of exhaustion that she struggled to resist. Unlike earlier, there was no wind to cut at her face and keep her awake. The doll's eyelids felt heavy. She remembered hearing about old Soviet calvarymen from Mosin-Nagant, and how they could sleep in the saddle. Perhaps a doll could do the same, keeping their legs moving while their digimind rested. It was a nice fantasy, though likely impossible. Nevertheless, OTs-12 felt her attention slipping away as she trudged through the forest, falling in behind RPD.
"AGH!" shouted SV-98, and OTs-12 was pulled back to wakefulness, her gaze snapping over to the sniper. She had dropped her weapon and stopped moving, hands on the back of her neck and face contorted.
"What's up?" asked OTs-12, approaching the doll.
"Dummy link! It's gone!" said SV-98.
"Destroyed?"
"Since when did IOP dummy links just stop working?" G17 commented.
"So…" said RPD, and OTs-12 heard her bring her weapon's barrel up.
"Something's not friendly," she finished. "Did you get any information on what took the dummy out, SV-98?"
"No... it was faster than anything I've seen before." SV-98 was on edge, OTs-12 could tell. Though a veteran and Tiss's first choice for second-in-command, the doll seemed to be worried by the unknown assailant to the point of paranoia.
"Weapons up," said OTs-12, though everyone had already brought their barrels up. "Get your dummies ba-"
It was as if she had pulled a muscle in her neck. The pain was quick but sharp, and as soon as the tautness had come it disappeared: OTs-12 had lost a dummy as well.
"There goes one of mine," she reported, and SV-98 let out a shaky sigh. "Everyone, get any outlying dummies back here ASAP. Circle up."
The five dolls grew close together, and OTs-12 issued a general order to all of them to order their dummies to form progressively wider rings outside of the innermost circle. It was a gamble, to be sure – anyone or anything with adequate training or ability would be able to move through the nighttime forest undetected quite easily, the thickly placed tree trunks and branches providing excellent cover.
"OTs-12 to Gatehouse Pavlov, do you copy?" The radio was silent to her hails. OTs-12 swore. "We're being jammed. Two klicks out to the checkpoint, let's move."
"I'm picking something up," said G17. "Moving towards dummy four, south-southeast-"
G17 flinched, and no one needed to ask to know that the dummy had been taken out. OTs-12 and FG42, flanking G17, adjusted their aims to the southeast, and OTs-12 bit her tongue again. "Did you get a visual?"
"Negative," said G17.
"Yew Leader to Gatehouse Pavlov, do you copy?" OTs-12 tried again. The radio spewed forth a garbled mess of static, indistinguishable from the crunch of dried leaves under her foot.
"This can't be happening," said SV-98.
"Keep it together," Tiss said calmly.
"I lost another goddamn dummy!"
"Where?" asked OTs-12, anxiety growing.
"North by northwest. I– I didn't even know it was coming. Tiss–"
"Tighten the outer rings of dummy dolls," ordered OTs-12, trying to keep everyone focused. "Widen visual scans."
They were making slow progress through the forest, more focused on watching for their unseen attacker than moving with any alacrity. All five of them grew dead silent, the only sound audible their breathing and the quiet crackle of brush underfoot.
"So is this Sangvis?" asked FG42.
"What else do you think it is?" derided G17. "Rhetorical question, before you answer."
"But this is beyond normal SF combat capability," FG42 pressed on. "It's unnatural."
"We're in the middle of a forest and it's nighttime," said RPD. "Don't assign them undue ability."
"Cut the chatter," OTs-12 said. Privately, she agreed with FG42's belief – despite the unfavorable conditions for spotting, no run-of-the-mill Sangvis doll was able to avoid detection in such a way and for so long. And, if it was a singular doll, none of them hunted the way it seemed to be doing now. At least, nothing short of a Ringleader. OTs-12's stomach turned at the thought of one, so soon after they had defeated the last. Why would Sangvis send another Ringleader to S17, directly following a Griffin victory?
Well, the question was not up to her to ponder. "We're still over a klick away from Pavlov," said OTs-12. "We need to pick up the pace. G17, redirect your dummies into an arrowhead. Everyone, pull your links in close, quit scanning. Just focus on navigating the forest."
As the team complied with her orders, OTs-12 saw their dummy links emerging from the depths of the forest and converge on their masters. G17 moved to the front to spearhead their push through the forest.
"Pick it up," said OTs-12, and the team increased their speed, jogging through the forest as fast as they could manage without accidentally tripping. Their surroundings seemed to move much faster now, and OTs-12 was quite happy with their pace.
"Lost one, a straggler," RPD reported. "It came from behind, bearing north forty degrees east!"
"That's good!" shouted OTs-12. "Keep moving, maybe we can put it behind us."
All five of them kept up the pace. They were nearing a klick out from Gatehouse Pavlov when FG42 reported a loss, and RPD again soon after.
"Run," said OTs-12, and they complied in silence. She dodged low-hanging branches and cleared raised roots as the group broke into a flat sprint.
It was a few seconds after she looked up from the ground that OTs-12 glanced at G17. The smaller doll wasn't slacking on her pace, steady strides keeping her at the head of the pack, but OTs-12 still found it easy to travel right behind her. She was considering ordering G17 to cede the position to her when the branches above exploded into movement. OTs-12 caught a glimpse one of G17's dummies being pulled up, an instant before G17 herself called out the loss. OTs-12 made no response, but simply opened fire, spraying bullets up into the tree branches.
"Get going!" shouted OTs-12. "Fast, now!" The potential to lose their pursuer in the forest was no longer likely. Not only had it managed to keep pace with them, but it had also struck at the doll leading their movement. Such capability indicated a great deal of mobility through the forest, and through the tree branches, by the look of it. "SV-98! Flare gun!"
"G-got it!" replied the sniper, reaching for her belt and pulled free the signal flare she had been given. The doll raised the pistol up and fired, the bright red signal rocketing up into the trees, only to be extinguished just after exiting the barrel, but not before offering a glimpse of the great, swirling black shadow that swallowed it up. OTs-12 saw one of SV-98's dummies yanked up into the trees, and so did FG42, who let off a volley into the branches. OTs-12 cursed the darkness of the forest as FG42's tracers disappeared into the forest.
The doll was about to call out new orders when she was knocked from behind and sent tumbling to the ground. Pain from the fall briefly covered OTs-12's body with a wave of agony, and she lay prone for a moment. Sharp reports of weapons discharges started to fill the forest, first from FG42, then from RPD. SV-98's rifle cracked once before she screamed. It was a long, desperate sound, but yet it lasted only a few seconds before something cut it off.
OTs-12 slowly rose from the ground, her back aching. Something had happened to the rest of her dummies, for none of them would respond, nor could she see them anywhere. The doll got to her feet and raised her rifle. The shooting had moved away slightly, but through the trees OTs-12 could see muzzle flashes brightening the forest for split seconds. She started moving towards the others.
"Left, left!" FG42 urged RPD, and the grey-haired doll spun and let loose a spray of ammunition, peppering a tree trunk with slugs. RPD was down to two dolls, G17 and FG42 only at one. SV-98 was nowhere to be found. "Where'd the bitch go?"
It was a scene of disarray. The remaining dolls had formed a ragged circle, and all of them turned their weapons to OTs-12 as she came into sight.
"Hold your fire," she said, and they turned their aim away, though failed to lower their weapons.
"We thought it got you," said G17, still aiming away into the forest. "Like SV-98."
"Did you see what it was?"
"Kind of," FG42 replied. "All-black, humanoid. It took her into the forest."
"We need to keep moving to Pavlov," said OTs-12. "There'll be more dolls there."
"We're still half a klick out. We won't make it in time. Flares don't work, radios down."
OTs-12 sighed. "So you want to die here making a final stand? We need to start running-"
"BEHIND!" shouted RPD, and OTs-12 saw G17 start pulling the trigger as fast as she could before turning and running towards the others. RPD squeezed off a volley of shots, but OTs-12 hadn't even raised her rifle when a black apparition seemed to materialize out of the forest darkness and seize G17 around the waist with one hand. The other clamped about her neck, and OTs-12 saw the doll's eyes roll back in her head and her body go limp before she was pulled away into the trees, both G17 and the apparition vanishing just as quickly as it appeared.
"G17!" yelled FG42, but there was no response. They all stared into the darkness for a moment before OTs-12 spoke.
"We need to move. Get closer to the gatehouse, get a message out about what happened. We can't stay here."
"We can't just run," objected RPD. "It has our squadmates!"
"SV-98 and G17 are flat-out gone, and I'm not too keen on sticking around to find out what happened to them. I don't think we'll be able to do anything, not with our numbers."
"Isn't that your duty as team leader?" asked RPD.
"If it were any other time, I'd go after that thing without a second thought," said OTs-12. "But we've lost twenty one bodies to it, and I'm willing to wager that trying with our last four isn't going to make it any better." Her chest hurt at the craven nature of her words, but OTs-12 still found herself convinced. She had felt fear before, but nothing such as this; the fear of the unknown enemy. The doll was certain the others felt it as well, even if they didn't show it.
RPD scowled, but said nothing more.
"We'll need to move quickly," said FG42. "We're far enough from the gatehouse that they won't have a visual on us through the forest. SV-98 had the rest of the flares. And nobody knows how quickly that thing will come after us."
"It could be looking at us right now," said RPD gloomily.
"How reassuring," said FG42.
OTs-12 cleared her throat. "At our distance, there's a chance the gatehouse dolls heard our gunfire, but given how dense this forest is, and the unknown nature of what we're dealing with, it's equally as likely that any noise we make is being blocked. Regardless, we need to focus on getting at least one of us out of here to inform the Commander."
"RPD has an extra link," said FG42. "She has the best chance."
"So it's decided," said OTs-12, and RPD shuffled uncomfortably.
"I don't really think I can do that," she began.
"We'll make sure you get out," said OTs-12, and that was that. They formed into a short column, OTs-12 taking the front and FG42 the back, the two RPD dolls sandwiched in between. They took off at a brisk run through the woods, and for a short time the only sound audible was the rustle of leaves underfoot.
"Something's coming up behind," FG42 shouted. OTs-12 resisted the urge to turn around and open fire, instead leaving it to the rear doll. Her weapon's rapid-fire report was swallowed up by the thick foliage around them, and OTs-12 hoped that she had driven off their pursuer.
"FG?" she asked.
"Here," said the other doll. "I think it went away."
OTs-12 could not believe their luck. Through the tree trunks she could see the glow of searchlights from the gatehouse, roving back and forth across the boundary between forest and foothills. OTs-12 allowed herself a moment of congratulation. The pursuing Sangvis had given up the chase, and none of them had been seized in the final run. SV-98 and G17 notwithstanding, it was a good outcome for a surprise attack by a Sangvis unit of unknown type.
FG42 fired again. RPD screamed suddenly then, and OTs-12 saw one of her dummies thrown overhead, slamming against a tree trunk. OTs-12's back flashed in pain as something struck at her, and she dropped to the ground, crawling away. FG42 let loose with her gun again, emptying the magazine, and OTs-12 felt rounds impact the tree in front of her. She stopped crawling and rolled over, bringing her rifle to bear. RPD had bolted off through the forest, making a beeline for the gatehouse, but FG42 had remained. OTs-12, dazed, watched the blonde doll drop the empty magazine to the ground and seize another from her belt, but before she could push it all the way into the gun, the weapon was knocked aside by an unseen hand. OTs-12 fumbled for the flashlight on her belt. FG42 seemed to contort herself wildly, and only after a few seconds did OTs-12 realize she was working to avoid strikes. The doll punched out with a fist, but stumbled through empty air; next, she was reeling from a strike to her face. OTs-12 turned the flashlight on and pointed it at FG42.
What stood by her compatriot was only remotely Sangvis. Completely pitch-black in color, the figure stood half a head taller than FG42, long, lithe limbs adding to the impression of a towering stalker. Its face was a mask, and only by the bright light could OTs-12 even tell that there were facial features at all. It lacked clothing, its form instead homogenized into only the most vague indications of female gender.
Upon the sudden illumination, the Sangvis landed a final blow on FG42, breaking the doll's spinal cord, before twisting and crossing the forest floor to OTs-12 in only a few quick strides. OTs-12 dropped the flashlight at her side and raised her rifle, and before the Sangvis could stop her she pulled the trigger, putting a magazine's worth of bullets into a rough line up the Sangvis's torso. For SV-98 and G17, thought OTs-12, but she didn't bother to speak the words over the furor of gunfire.
The Sangvis stepped back, repulsed by the gunfire. OTs-12 reached for another magazine, hoping to get it in before the enemy recovered. Lucky for her, though, a flurry of tracers ripped through the forest, several hitting the Sangvis, which quickly disappeared into the trees. Gatehouse troops, thought OTs-12. RPD had apparently made it to Pavlov. Already, the sounds of Griffin dolls crashing through the bush was apparent, and the Sangvis doll had noticed too. OTs-12 dropped the empty magazine and inserted a fresh one. This would be a story to tell her older sister.
The Griffin search team's flashlights shone through the tree trunks, casting odd beams of light about Tiss. Faint shouts were all that she could hear from them, and she thought she could hear RPD. I need to move.
"Gatehouse… have to…" RPD's voice drifted over to her, punctuated by a cry of pain. OTs-12 raised a hand to shield her eyes against the search team's lights, but despite the uncomfortable brightness she was happy to see them. It meant safety.
"Movement!" shouted a doll – OTs-12 recognized the voice as T-5000 – and the searchlights swung away from her, leaving Tiss in the darkness with spots swimming across her vision. Flashlight. She reached for it by her side, closing her fist… only to get a handful of leaves and brush. The searchlights were sweeping the forest to her left, though the dolls seemed to find no trace of the movement they had seen earlier. RPD's wails rose in volume.
OTs-12 suddenly felt an immeasurably strong urge to get away. She reached for her rifle – it, at least, was still there – and made to stand, only to have her weapon snatched out of her grip and chucked into the brush. A hard metal arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her up, and before she could so much as kick or scream, the Sangvis embraced her neck with a cool hand, and OTs-12 closed her eyes and went to sleep.