HitSpy: Absolution

Act 2, Scene 2

HitSpy decided that he liked the .45. Not much had been modified on it, but it was well balanced, and it had a lot of power behind it. HitSpy only had one shot left in it, but he decided it was worth the extra weight.

He put it in his suit, and decided to focus on the men sleeping around him. He had volunteered to keep watch while everyone else slept, and now he was keeping a sharp eye out for enemies. They had made it as far as the town of Broken Arrow, and had decided to make camp. The Reds hadn't started any fires in order to keep discrete, and they had rationed out a little bit of their food for HitSpy and Scout. They didn't have much left, so there wasn't much that they could give to the two Mercs. Scout had been starving, so HitSpy had given him his portion.

HitSpy didn't mind going hungry for a night, but that didn't mean it wasn't against his better judgment. If he made too much noise, including stomach growling, he could attract unwanted attention, and that was something the Reds did not need. They were already tired and few; a battle would be something they could not engage in.

HitSpy could see everything within a mile radius. The Reds had decided to make "camp" on a small hill. He was beginning to like these men and the way they thought. It crossed his mind that he didn't know who trained them, but a couple of them had already confessed to being former military, so it wasn't a stretch to believe that former military stuck together.

A twig snapped behind him, drawing HitSpy from his thoughts. He pulled the .45 out of his suit, and aimed it at the direction of the sound. There stood his student, clothed in a suit and a bandana over the head, with some aviators over her eyes, probably night vision.

"And they said this route was secure", she mumbled in her French accent, as she held up her hands in surrender.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was TRYING to report to my Field Commander", she said, as she looked around at the sleeping men, "but instead, I stumbled across a group of rebels."

"Field Commander Barns", HitSpy said, remembering the conversation between the Sergeant on the train and the Field Commander. "What would happen if he were to… disappear?"

"Blu lines would be shaken. There would be ultimate confusion. Some would retreat, some would stay, but Red would have a huge advantage, what with the clones having no leadership."

"How far away is the Field Commander?"

"About a mile East of here. Want to help me make him… disappear?"

"With pleasure", HitSpy said, as he stood up. He put his .45 in his suit, and walked over to Scout. He shook the boy awake and quickly explained the situation to him. He left the boy to guard the camp while he was away, to which he didn't take well, and attempted to ask him a lot of questions. HitSpy turned and left when he decided he had had enough.

The two spies walked on in silence. It turned out that HitSpy's assumptions about his student's glasses were correct; they were indeed night vision glasses, a design of her own, which wasn't the greatest design ever, judging by how she didn't see the group of Reds before she stumbled over them. He knew that he could probably help her improve on the design, and told her as much. She didn't give him a definitive answer as to whether he could help her. Hard feelings, and all that.

They eventually made it to what appeared to be the outskirts of an abandoned police station. Abandoned wasn't quite the correct term, now that HitSpy thought about it, as he looked at the decent amount of Blu clones guarding the building. The two spies observed the clones from a nearby hill. It suddenly occurred to him that they had made it to Field Commander Barn's outpost.

HitSpy looked on, and wondered out loud, "How are we going to get in their?"

As he said that, he felt cool metal press against the back of his head.

"On my terms", his student said, as she cocked the revolver in her hand.

"So it ends like this", HitSpy said, through gritted teeth, getting up on his knees, and getting into character.

"Oh, it's just beginning", his student said, as she allowed HitSpy to stand. "When I give the signal-"

"What will it be?"

"The Field Commander's tragic death."

"I see."

The student began leading the teacher towards the base. HitSpy had his hands held up in surrender, and had his gaze fixed at the ground. His student guided him, saluting to Blu soldiers, and receiving salutes in return. It suddenly occurred to HitSpy that the only reason why these clones weren't shooting his student was because she was wearing blue.

But another thing occurred to him as well.

"Whatever happened to Harold?"

"He's visiting family in Kansas."

"So, no tragic fate befell him?"

"Not yet."

"Planning it?"

"If he makes one more jab at me possibly being a hooker, he's liable to get a knife in that neck of his."

"He's a bit of an idiot, isn't he?"

"A bit."

"Shut up, Maggot", a Blu clone with a Spas-12 screamed at HitSpy, "the Field Commander is trying to sleep!"

"Which reminds me", HitSpy's former student said, as she turned to the clone, "be a dear and wake the Commander up, would you?"

"Nooooooooooo", the clone said dramatically, but he went to go do so anyway. HitSpy's student followed closely behind him. HitSpy was forced through the front door of the police building, just behind the clone. They followed him through the decrepit building, and eventually came to a room with a makeshift bed. On it laid a fully uniformed, and quite peacefully resting, Field Commander.

"Sir", the clone shouted, causing the Field Commander to jolt from his slumber. He gave the clone a nasty look, and turned towards the two Spies. A smile crept over his face.

"So this was the one who impersonated my Spy", the Field Commander said, as he adjusted his blue colored beret.

"Indeed", HitSpy's student replied, as she smacked HitSpy with the barrel of the revolver, "he has caused us quite a bit of trouble, Field Commander Barns."

"The original Spy", Field Commander Barns said, as he stood up, "I honestly didn't expect you to be so easily subdued."

"We have", HitSpy's student hesitated, "history. He trusts me."

As she said this, she winked at him from out the side of her glasses.

"Is that so? Tell you what, then; I'll give you the honor of searching him."

"Why, thank you, Field Commander", and with that, HitSpy's former student shoved her hand into HitSpy's suit.

"Promise not to bleed on my suit and I'll kill you all quickly", HitSpy addressed everyone in the room.

"Oh, what's this", HitSpy's student said, as she yanked the .45 out of his suit, "a semi-automatic? I thought you only trusted revolvers, Spy."

"I thought I trusted you, too", HitSpy said, a shade of red flooding his cheeks.

"Oh-ho, THE Red Spy, embarrassed", Field Commander Barns said, "how intoxicatingly wonderful."

"Ooh, actually", HitSpy's student said, examining the pistol, "I think I like this, too; well balanced, and despite only having one bullet left, very powerful", as she talked, the barrel of the pistol seemed to become entranced by the Field Commander's face.

"Probably really accurate, too", she continued, as she suddenly brushed the trigger. As soon as she did so, the .45 reported, and a fourth of Barns' face disappeared in a red mist, and became a red splotch on the wall behind him. Both eyes still open, he fell onto his side, blood beginning to spill from his nostrils.

"And a hair trigger", HitSpy's student continued, "you really do know how to pick them, Spy."

The clone behind her was either too stunned, or too stupid to make any sense of what happened. HitSpy's student flicked her right wrist, and from within her suit, just under her right hand, a blade suddenly protruded. She twirled around, and planted that knife into the clone's throat. After making some gurgling sounds, he fell onto his rump, his back leaning straight against the wall.

"Search him", his student suggested, pointing to the Field Commander, "maybe he has a trophy you can keep."

A small puddle of blood was beginning to form around Barns' head, but other than that, he looked relatively clean. On his hip, in a holster, sat a Luger, next to three mags encased in Velcro pouches. HitSpy examined the Luger further, and found a swastika engraved onto the side of it.

"Was he a Nazi enthusiast?"

"You would think", HitSpy's student responded, as she went to the window to see if any clones were rallying around the house. It seemed that they had paid no attention to the house at all.

Satisfied, she walked back over to HitSpy, saying, "Eight of them. In the morning, these clones will rotate out, and no one will come to fill their positions. We make a clean getaway with minimal effort."

"What about if someone were to alert these clones to our deeds?"

"No one cares enough for that."

"I think the clone on the floor would beg to differ", HitSpy said, as the clone on the floor shakily pointed his Semi-automatic shotgun at HitSpy's student. HitSpy knocked his student out of the way, just as a slug blasted its way through the wall behind her. HitSpy raised his new pistol, and fired a round at the soldier's head. It went clean through, leaving a small hole just above the right eye.

The noise reverberated around the house, and more than probably reached the ears of the clones outside. The first shot could have been mistaken as the Field Commander executing the enemy spy, but all of this extra noise was all too suspicious for the curious clones outside. HitSpy walked over to the Field Commander, and relieved him of the three extra magazines on his belt. He stuck them in his suit pocket, and walked over to the window. Outside, he could see several clones grabbing shotguns, but he also saw three clones just sitting there, playing cards, and not caring about the noises they had heard.

"They are divided", HitSpy said to his student, "like they can't decide what to do."

"I've seen it before", HitSpy's student said, as she picked up the dead clone's Spas 12, "they can't function as a unit without someone to lead them."

"They're as stupid as they are cheap."

"Something like that."

With that, the first clone busted down the front door of the police station. HitSpy's student put a slug through his chest, sending him reeling backwards. Out the window, HitSpy could see the other clones finally beginning to move. As HitSpy watched them, they grabbed their shotguns, and ran around the back of the police station.

"Three coming around back", HitSpy yelled to his student.

"Deal with them", she shouted back, as she closed the front door, "I'll cover the front."

"Fair enough", HitSpy concluded, as he moved towards the back of the police station, Luger in hand.

He jogged through the police station, noticing how decrepit the architecture was. It wasn't hit hard in battle, but it had definitely been abandoned for quite some time. Not even the local police stood up to Blu; they probably just evacuated who they could, and left themselves soon afterwards.

As soon as he got in sight of the back door, HitSpy leveled his pistol to it. The door knob started to jiggle, but it suddenly stopped. HitSpy placed his finger on the trigger, and waited. As soon as the door was kicked down, he unloaded four rounds. The clone in front took all four, and stumbled back into his comrades, buying HitSpy enough time to run to the right side of the door. He planted his back against the wall, and waited. When the next clone walked through, HitSpy leveled the Luger to the side of his head, and unloaded a round into his temple. Before the clone had time to fall to the floor, HitSpy ran up to him, and took him as a human shield. The last clone hesitated, not sure whether the man dressed in black was a threat or not, and HitSpy put the last of the mag into him.

HitSpy dropped the magazine in his pistol, and dropped the dead clone to the ground as well. He slapped a fresh mag into the pistol, and grabbed the door from the ground, putting it back into place. Looking around, he found a foldable chair, and picked it up. He walked back to the door, and put it up under the door knob, effectively blocking the door, and hopefully sealing it off from the outside world.

Satisfied with his work, HitSpy went back to the front of the police station. He took note of the fact that he had fired twelve shots before the pistol ran out of ammo. He would have to be more conservative with his rounds; he had a feeling that it was going to be a long night.

As he thought about this, he heard his student shouting from across the station, "A little help over here, please!"

HitSpy jogged over to his student, and watched her reload the Spas 12 that she had acquired, and witnessed her taking pot-shots at the door from behind cover. The door was practically destroyed, with only scraps of wood holding it together. HitSpy watched clones return fire from the holes in the door, forcing him to cover as well.

From behind the shattered remains of the door, he could clearly hear a clone scream, "Need some help, here!"

A few seconds later, he was fairly certain that he could hear the grainy radio reply of, "Roger that!"

"I think we are about to have company", HitSpy said to his student.

The soldiers covering the door continued to fire through said door, to keep HitSpy and his student pinned down. Within about five minutes, HitSpy could hear the sound of a tank coming closer, along with about a column of troops.

"Merde", HitSpy said, as he looked out the window to find twenty eight clones armed with M1 Garand rifles and a tank with a much larger barrel and much thicker armor than the other ones he had seen, but with no other armaments, marching up to the police station. The clones all turned and pointed their rifles at the door, and the turret on the tank turned to face the front door.

"Baise-moi", HitSpy screamed, as he turned around and charged away from the wall. His student followed suit.

They had almost made it to the next room when the front door exploded, as did most of the wall around it. HitSpy and his student were flung to the ground, the wind knocked clean out of him. HitSpy could hear the ringing in his ears returning. Through the big, fiery hole where the front door used to be, HitSpy caught a glimpse of the clone riflemen advancing towards the house.

"Well", HitSpy said to his student through the ringing in his ears, "it's been fun."

"What", the student replied, the ringing in her ears still prevalent.

HitSpy flopped onto his back, aiming his Luger at the advancing clones.

"Go", he screamed at his student, "I'll cover you!"

HitSpy's student finally understood what was going on. She scrambled to her feet, and ran towards the back door. As soon as she kicked the folding chair out from under the door handle, she turned back, and whispered, "Repose en paix, mon professeur."

As she fled, HitSpy blindly fired at the clones, trying to keep them back for as long as possible. He crawled on his back over to the next room, the kitchen, and took shelter behind a wall facing away from the door. He stood up with the support of the wall, and looked down at himself for a moment. A large piece of the front door was sticking out of his chest. HitSpy grabbed ahold of it, and attempted to pull it out, but it was lodged quite well into him, and only resulted in more pain for him.

'Well', he reasoned, 'I'm going to die here anyway. I might as well occupy myself with taking as many clones with me as I can.'

Even as he thought this, he could feel pressure building in his chest cavity. If bullets didn't take him, then a collapsed lung would.

It didn't matter if he won, because this battle would ultimately end with his demise.

HitSpy turned to fire on the clones again, only for the tank to blast another hole in the police station, giving HitSpy a clear view of the outside, and lighting more of the station on fire. HitSpy flattened himself against the wall to avoid taking more shrapnel. He could hear the ringing in his ears getting worse, but he could still hear the twenty eight pairs of boots marching towards him.

HitSpy turned the corner and fired three shots. Two of them hit one of the clones, felling him, but the rest kept coming. HitSpy turned again to take more shots, but the clones each fired one to three rounds at him, forcing him back to cover. As his back hit the wall, he checked himself again, and found that a bullet had hit his left arm, and that another round nicked his left leg. His suit certainly was bloody now; so much for trying to save it.

He took one final shot at the clones before he ran out of ammo in his mag. He dropped it, and went to put another one into the Luger, when the sound of shouting reached his ear. For a second, he froze, because that annoying, high-pitched Bostonian voice was unmistakable.

Scout was nearby.

HitSpy ducked his head out from behind cover, seeing the clones that had been advancing stop in their tracks, and turned towards the little hill close by. On top of it stood a boy clad in red, screaming and waving something burning in his hand. After a moment, he was joined by several other men, wielding M16s. HitSpy watched Scout swing his arm and let go of the burning object. It flew towards the tank, and as it crashed on it, said tank was enveloped in flames. The crew quickly tried to escape, but the turret operator was caught in the flame.

While the turret operator burned, HitSpy clearly heard Scout scream, "You shall not freakin' pass!"

The clones turned their rifles to the hill, just as HitSpy turned his pistol on the clones, unloading everything into their backs. Five clones fell, and the rest all turned towards HitSpy, and the men on the hill charged the clones, firing sporadically. The clones couldn't decide who to face, and they were trapped out in the open; a terrific tactical advantage for Red. If Scout organized this attack, then he definitely deserved some credit.

HitSpy reloaded the pistol, taking note of the fact that he was loading the last mag he had into the Luger. He had to make these last shots count, or he may very well die before he could be saved.

Three of the clones made a run for the house as these thoughts entered and left his mind. HitSpy allowed them to make it inside before he popped out of cover, and put two bullets in each of them. Their bodies fell on the burning carpet, fanning out a little bit of the flames around them.

HitSpy only had six shots left, and there were at least seventeen clones still alive and fighting. He had to do something quickly, or Red might be overrun. They currently had about five fighters, including Scout, while the Blu's had seven- six- fifteen clones left. The clones could easily counter-attack, and wipe out the Reds. HitSpy had to keep their attention just long enough for Red to take them out.

The rifles. They still had at most five shots left in each, and three of them lay close to his feet. He dashed over to where they were, and picked up the first that he saw. He pointed it at the back of the nearest clone's head, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

HitSpy examined the rifle for a moment, and noticed that the rifle was out of bullets. The magazine was open and empty. He looked down at the clone he had picked it up from, and noticed that he had a bag full of clips, at least fifteen of them. Each held eight rounds, making a grand total of 120 rounds. He relieved the dead clone of his bag, and threw it over his own shoulder. He took a clip out of the pack, and placed it into the rifle. He aimed it at the same clone, and squeezed the trigger. The back of the clone's head exploded as a 30.06 round blasted right through him.

That got a few of the clones' attention. Some turned rifles on HitSpy. HitSpy gunned down two clones with chest shots, but a third was too fast for HitSpy. He yelped as a round penetrated his gut. He turned the rifle and fired three rounds into the clone in rapid succession, bowling him over. HitSpy yanked the slide back on the Garand, and pulled it back again to pop the magazine out. He quickly slapped in another, and turned the rifle on more clones. He pulled the trigger again and again, felling three more clones. Eventually, a volley from the clones knocked him over. Everything became a blur after that, probably because of the blood loss.

The next thing HitSpy remembered were two Red soldiers standing over him, talking to one another. HitSpy could feel the pressure in his chest, so horrible that it felt as if it were about to burst. Suddenly, he stopped being able to pull in air. He began choking and panting, as the soldiers began speaking frantically.

"Yep, that wound is sucking, all right!"

"Air in his chest is collapsing his lung. We have to get that thing out."

"Roger that. Get a good grip!"

With that, the two soldiers grabbed ahold of the stick lodged in HitSpy's chest.

"On three", the first said. "One… two… three!"

The two soldiers began pulling on the piece of wood, resulting in pain, but also releasing pressure from HitSpy's lung. With one final thrust, the two soldiers yanked the stick out of HitSpy's chest.

HitSpy yelled, but he could finally breathe again. He was content with the good work the soldiers had done.

"We've got to get him back to the base. I'll lift the legs, you lift the torso. On three; one… two… three!"

HitSpy felt himself being lifted off the ground, but he could also feel himself losing consciousness. He felt so tired. He needed to rest.

The next time he came to, the small group and Scout had made it to where the other Reds were sleeping initially. The other two soldiers began waking everyone up. HitSpy's last view was of Scout racing around in circles, mumbling, "What are we gonna do, what are we gonna do?"