Chapter 7: Down Mexico Way, Part 6
"You know, when we took this job, I didn't think we'd be getting shot at this much!" Grif complained as he swung the armored truck around to avoid an incoming rocket from a MECH trooper located on one of the canyon walls. "Especially not by our old bosses!"
"Well, what did you think you'd be doing?" Church retorted as he braced himself. "Sitting in some shady cantina in Juarez doing tequila shots?!"
"As a matter of f–"
"Rhetorical question! Simmons, anything else we need to worry about?"
"Yeah– helicopters at twelve o'clock!" the maroon-armored soldier replied from his position behind the passenger seat.
"How many?"
"Four! And we've got some kind of half-track at nine and a jeep at three!" He nervously swallowed. "Oh God, why'd we volunteer for this?"
"Shared sentiments! Seriously, where was it in the contract that said we had to attempt suicide?!" Grif added.
"Less bellyaching, more driving!" Sarge retorted. "And don't stop 'till you hit the enemy base!"
"How about we not do that and say we did? That way, we'll be alive and happier!"
Sarge rubbed his chin for a moment. "Well, in that case…"
"Yes?"
"I've got just the thing to boost morale! Simmons, pass me the mixtape."
"WHAT?!" Grif and a nearby Herc replied in unison.
"Here you go, sir!"
Sarge grinned as Simmons handed over the cassette, the words 'Battle Music' written on the label in faded letters. "Yep– this should get 'em good." he said under his breath.
"Um, sir?"
"Dammit, Grif! I thought I told you to quit–"
"Remember those helicopters?"
"What about 'em?"
"Well, you're going to want to see this."
Sarge squinted as he looked up through the truck's windshield. There, right before his eyes, he could see two of the helicopters kill their main rotors before they suddenly folded up and retracted into a grove along the dorsal part of the fuselage, with the landing skids following suit. A moment later, a pair of wings swung out from beneath the cockpit, while a fin that had previously been hanging behind the tail sprung up and locked into place atop it.
"…what in tarnation?" he whispered as he saw the vehicle complete its shift from helicopter to jet fighter.
"Is that some new kind of Transformer?" Simmons asked. "Because if so, then I suggest we do the sensible thing and–"
"At this point, continuing to push forward is the sensible option." Church butted in.
"I'm sorry, but what'd you just say?" Grif replied.
"Let me put it this way– we slow down, we paint a nice big target on ourselves for those aircraft to shoot at."
"As if we aren't already a nice big target!"
"Yeah, but if we keep going at this speed, they're marginally less likely to hit us! Now shut up and keep driving!"
"And here I thought Trucial was bad!" Ben said as he and his brother ran alongside the canyon wall, trying to put as much distance between them and the smoldering wreck that had been their quad bike as possible. The rifles they'd been deployed with having been lost when they were thrown clear of the vehicle after it'd taken a direct hit from a rocket, they now carried Hammerbursts– the ugly yet reliable high-powered assault rifles that were so commonly seen in the hands of Red Shadow troopers worldwide.
"Preach it!" Clay replied, firing off a quick burst at a nearby MECH trooper. "At least there, we had proper backup from Noble and Halberd!"
Before the younger Carmine could say anything else, the sound of a jaunty Mexican polka tune suddenly began to rise up from the chaos, slowly drawing closer and closer.
"Um, Clay?"
"Yeah?"
"What the hell is that music?"
Right on cue, the source of said tune– a familiar looking armored truck– came barreling through at high speed with some kind of fighter jet hot on its trail.
Talk about a distraction! Ben thought as he took a brief moment to let the scene sink in before rejoining his brother in their ongoing advance towards a compound surrounded by a roundish chain link fence at the back of the canyon.
"I am the very model of a modern major general," Thom nervously sang to himself as he fired the jeep's turret-mounted machine gun at one of the MECH aircraft pursuing him, Cole, and Rosenda. "I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral. I know the kings of England and I quote the fights his–"
"Less singing, more shooting!" Gauntlet's intelligence officer shouted over the din.
Thom gave a brief, silent acknowledgment before swinging the turret around so it was aimed at another one of the aircraft– this one in its helicopter mode– and letting loose a hailstorm of gunfire. A moment later, there was an explosion as the helicopter was engulfed in flames, followed up shortly thereafter by the cockpit canopy being flung open as something shot out of it.
Well, that answers that question. all three Gauntlet operatives thought as they saw a parachute open just before the fireball that had been the helicopter hit the ground.
Even through his rifle's scope, Jun couldn't believe what he was seeing. There, on the canyon floor below him, he could make out the mercenaries' armored truck plowing through the compound's perimeter fence, utterly demolishing a couple of guard towers and a metal hut on its way in before slamming into what looked like a hangar. Behind them, he could see Clay and Ben hugging the wall, somehow managing to not get reduced to hamburger by the sheer volume of gunfire headed their way, while the team's jeep was rapidly approaching the newly formed hole in the fence.
And it's times like this where I'm happy that I don't usually have to be in the middle of the maelstrom. he thought. Especially when it's one as chaotic as that.
"Congratulations, all of you." Herc jeered from his spot on the floor. "I don't know how you do it, but you somehow managed to get us into a situation even worse than being chased by transforming aircraft through a textbook example of a no man's land!"
"Pipe down and buckle up, buttercup!" Sarge yelled. "We ain't out of the woods yet!"
"I noticed." came the retort. "Now, seeing as how I'm stuck with you for the time being, do you have a spare gun I can use?"
"Dude, don't you have a revolver or something?" Tucker piped up.
"I meant a gun that might actually be worth a damn against those MECH guys."
"You can have mine." Doc said before handing him a submachine gun. "It wasn't like I was going to use it anyways."
Herc's palm promptly collided with his face. "You have got to be kidding me!"
"I'm afraid he isn't." Grif replied, picking up a battle rifle that'd been knocked to the floor by the collision. "So…yeah, you're gonna need to pick up that bit of slack."
Herc groaned. "What's even his job?"
"Medic."
"Hey, Grif! Egghead!" Sarge butted in, chambering a shell into his shotgun. "Stop standing around and get a move on! This mission ain't gonna complete itself!"
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
If you're wondering what the deal was with the "what the hell is that music" bit, it's based on a running gag from the actual Red vs. Blue web series. Also, if you're wondering what those MECH aircraft were…well, to say more would be too much of a spoiler, though if you're familiar with the old M.A.S.K cartoon and toyline, you'll know exactly what they are (and I recommend you keep it to yourselves).
