I don't own Halo of Justice League; they are the property of 343 Industries and DC Comics/Warner Brothers respectively.
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"Fucking Hell!"
Gotham PD Sergeant Renee Montoya swore as she hunkered down behind her squad car – at least, what was left of it. Across the street from her, a large group of gangsters were unleashing a murderous barrage of automatic firepower on her position.
Barely an hour before, she had received a report about a disturbance in the Waterside area of the city. Given the recent gang activity, she thought it was best to go in with extra manpower. She was the first on the scene to arrive, followed by four other patrol cars.
That was when shit hit the fan.
What was supposed to be a minor disturbance was, in fact, an entire group of very well armed gangsters spoiling for a fight. Within seconds, one gangster detonated a makeshift pipe bomb underneath a squad car, killing two officers instantly. Another officer was hit in the chest, his bullet-proof vest all but useless against the heavy firepower. His partner tried to drag him into cover, only to fall victim to a stray bullet to his jugular.
Now, only Montoya and two other officers remained alive and able to keep firing. Her squad car, now pickpocketed with bullet holes, was the only thing keeping them from sharing the same fate as their colleagues.
For now.
"CONTACT, RIGH-!" The officer's warning was cut short as his head exploded in a pink and red mist. Montoya cursed loudly as she watched his body slump to the ground. She fought back tears as she glanced over the squad car. She could see the gangsters slowly making their way towards their position. A number of them were laughing and cheering at their impending victory, hardly caring for their own well-being.
Montoya tried to fire her pistol in their direction, only to duck back down to avoid the oncoming fire. Against her better judgement, she risked peering over the top of her car. Her breath caught in her chest at the sight of three armored vans backing into the street. Two of them unloaded even more gangsters, all armed with RPG's and body-armor.
The third vehicle, on the other hand, could only be described as a fucking tank. It was covered in military-grade armor plating, with anti-explosive grates on its sides and front bender. And attached to its roof was an honest-to-God M134 Minigun.
And it was turning in their direction.
She barely had time to shout out a warning, before the Minigun turned towards them and…
BRRRRRRRRRRRR!
The sound of an automatic chainsaw ripped through the air as several thousands of 20mm rounds ripped through the squad car like it was hot butter. The two surviving cops just barely dove for the pavement to avoid being ripped apart. One round hit the car's fuel tank, causing it to detonate in a massive fireball. The force of the explosion pushed Montoya across the pavement into another squad car. She wasn't too badly injured, but her ears were ringing from the close proximity to the blast.
She shook her head to try and clear the noise, and tried to spot her other remaining colleague. She saw him leaning against the charred husk of another nearby squad car. He was still alive, if the pained grimace on his face was any indication. Turning her head, she could see the gangsters moving towards her. She could see them laughing and jeering to each other, though it was blocked out by the ringing in her head.
As her hearing returned, she tried to reload her pistol…only to realize her gun had been knocked clear by the blast.
All she could do was watch as the gangsters moved ever closer, all the while the Minigun started spinning up again…
Only for a rocket to impact the makeshift tank, detonating the ammo in a fantastic explosion. Another rocket soon followed, hitting one of the other vehicles. The additional armor did no good as the rocket detonated inside the cab, cooking off the boxes of ammo stored in the backseat. The gangsters froze in their tracks, having just realized that two thirds of their heavy hardware had been destroyed.
Suddenly, Montoya heard gunshots ring out from above and behind her, followed by several gangsters falling to the ground with large holes in their heads. She glanced upwards, half-expecting Batman to swoop in to save her…
What she saw instead, she would later recall, was something even better.
Out from behind a smoldering squad car came the Spartan, firing his M382 rifle with extreme precision. Each and every shot found its target, with multiple gangsters falling in quick succession. The Spartan then leapt over the charred squad car and placed himself between her and the gangsters – the latter whom, having lost their heavy ordinance, now found themselves out in the open and complete exposed.
They didn't stand a chance.
Within mere seconds, their entire left flank had been decimated. The Spartan then turned his attention to the right flank, taking down more than half of the gangsters before they could rush back into cover. A few tried to fire their own weapons, only to find themselves with massive holes in their heads, chests and throats. One managed to fire her RPG at the armored titan, and let out a cheer at his apparent demise…
Only to stare in shock and horror as the Spartan merely grabbed the rocket midair and threw it back towards her. She barely managed to scream before the rocket hit her dead center – the resulting explosion consumed her and the three men next to her, leaving no evidence they were even there.
The Spartan then threw a grenade towards a large crate of RPG rockets, creating yet another impressive explosion and killing five more gangsters. The remaining gangsters then decided to rush the Spartan, thinking that they could overwhelm him in sheer numbers. The Spartan responded by rushing forth to meet them.
Four gangsters were tossed aside like ragdolls from the initial impact. The Spartan then felled five others with quick jabs to their throats, chests and necks. One tried to take a swing at him with a sledge hammer, only for the Spartan to grab him and throw him back towards his cohorts…minus the sledgehammer. The Spartan then sung the hammer as easily as a dancer twirling a baton. Each swing made contact with its target, sending the gangsters flying across the street with bludgeoned faces, twisted necks, and caved in chest cavities.
One massive gangster tried to wrestle with the Spartan, only to be flipped over in a bone-breaking choke slam. The gangster's skull was shattered by the impact, leaving a dark red stain on the pavement. The Spartan then fired his grapple-shot at yet another oncoming gunman, and pulled him in towards him. A swift jab to the throat ending the gangster's life quickly.
Just then, the doors to the gangster's hideout burst outwards, revealing another group of well-armed gunmen. The Spartan simply pulled his rocket launcher forth, and fired a rocket into the midst of the oncoming attackers. The resulting explosion made short, gruesome work of the would-be reinforcements.
He then focused back towards the few gangsters still breathing, who had opted to fire at him from behind cover. At the same time, a large number of gunmen began to appear on the upper balconies. Some had managed to salvage a few RPG's and heavy automatic weapons. The Spartan fired the last rocket at the balcony, taking out a number of shooters. A few pieces of debris fell down to the ground, creating a plum of dust that temporarily blinded the few remaining ground-based shooters. The Spartan took the chance to fall back towards Montoya's position. Upon reaching her, he pulled her back into proper cover behind the scorched squad car.
"Are you alright? Can you move?"
Montoya was momentarily caught off guard by the Spartan's voice; she had been expecting it to be deeper in tone, similar to the Batman. Perhaps some kind of voice modulator in his helmet.
"Yeah," she said, flinching slightly as she knelt beside the car, "I'm just damn peachy." She paused as he rose and fired over the car, causing one of the gangsters to fall off the balcony. His body hit the tarmac with a dull thud, while his weapon bounced once before coming to rest beside the car. The Spartan used his grapple-shot to retrieve the weapon -a personalized submachinegun – and pull it towards him.
"Can you shoot?" he asked, holding the submachinegun out in front of her.
After a brief moment, Montoya took the weapon and cocked its chamber clear of the old round.
"Yeah, I can manage it."
"Good." The Spartan accepted the answer with a brisk nod, then loaded a fresh clip into his own weapon. "Stay in cover. Watch the flanks. Conserve your ammo." And with that, he rushed back out into the open and towards her colleague. He kneeled down and checked over his injuries. He then grabbed the squad car's and flipped it up on its side. If that wasn't enough, he then proceeded to grab and lift it up as a makeshift shield.
Torn between shocked and in awe, Montoya watched as the Spartan, her injured colleague in hand, made his way back towards her. A few gangsters tried to fire under the makeshift shield, hoping to hit the Spartan's feet. Montoya fired her new weapon in retaliation, feeling a sick satisfaction when she saw her bullets put one of the shooters down.
By that time, the Spartan placed the officer down beside her, then lifted and placed the car on top of her own. As he did so, he spotted the third vehicle adjusting its position. It was soon facing towards their position, its engine revving as the driver prepared to charge towards them.
"Eagle-one, do you read me?" he spoke into his helmet comm. We have enemy armor in the open, plus multiple targets on the upper balcony. In danger of being overrun. Request immediate fire support. Bring the rain." Once the Spartan finished talking, he instinctively moved between her and the building.
"Hold here. We need to wait before we can move your partner."
Montoya, exhausted and running on adrenaline, was far from appeased. "The Fuck!? What are we waiting for?"
She could almost hear the dark anticipation in the Spartan's response.
"Air support."
Montoya didn't have to wait long to find out what he meant.
Then, above the gangster's gunfire, she could hear the sound of an engine approaching. At first, she thought it was the gangster's vehicle making its charge. Then, one of the gangsters shouted and pointed to the sky…
Just as a barrage of rockets impacted the balconies, engulfing them in multiple bursts of fire and debris. This was followed by the sound of heavy 30mm cannon fire ripping through the air. The few remaining gangsters were helpless as their bodies were torn apart or incinerated by the overwhelming firepower. Another round of rockets struck the entrance to the building, utterly destroying the third vehicle and the gangsters huddled around and behind it
The barrage momentarily paused as the aircraft adjusted its firing arc. As it realigned itself, Montoya could finally see the aircraft in all its splendor: It had squarish wings and a bulky cockpit, with thrustors on each wing and two smaller ones on its tail. Under each wing were weapons pods loaded with close-range rockets. And sticking out from the nose was a massive four-barreled 30mm cannon.
In Montoya's eyes, at that moment, it was probably the most beautiful/hideous thing she had ever seen.
The gunship then began firing toward a nearby alley, where the few remaining gangsters were trying to escape in whatever vehicle they had left. Two of them tried to flee on a motorcycle, only to be gunned down by the Spartan as they passed. Another paused to fire his RPG out of desperation; his shot went wide and hit a nearby dumpster, while Montoya's aim and return shots were dead on.
It didn't take long before the last gangster was dead or had long since fled the scene. Whatever the case, it was only when the gunship ceased its barrage, and the Spartan declared, "All clear," that Montoya could finally relax. The firefight had only lasted about ten minutes, yet she could've sworn that it had been ten hours.
"Are you alright?" She looked up to see the Spartan standing over her. His stance was less intimidating, yet still on guard for any surprises.
"Well, given that I just survived a full-scale firefight with God knows how many gangsters armed with explosives, RPG's and frickin' tanks…I'm just feeling peachy." She then turned to look at her sole surviving colleague. "I just wish I could say the same for the others."
The Spartan bowed his head. "I'm sorry."
Montoya didn't answer; she just stared at the war-torn street and buildings. "This shouldn't have happened. This area was supposed to be locked down. Why would anyone want to come back here in the first place?"
"Because someone meant for this to happen."
She turned to look at the Spartan, feeling more inquisitive, and angry, then surprised. "Who?"
"The same person who lifted the lock down…and undoubtably blames you for his incarceration."
"…Loeb."
"He wouldn't lift the lockdown if it didn't affect his interests. Those men were too well armed to be mere street thugs – armored cars, BPV's, army grade explosives."
"So, whatever he has going on here," Montoya reasoned, "it's important enough to get the major involved."
And given his recent losses," the Spartan reasoned, "he would assume that someone on the inside would have intel to his operations. And while Commissioner Gordon would seem the most logical option, he's too close to Batman for Loeb to try anything without drawing any more attention."
"Leaving me as one of the other few cops not on his payroll." She snorted, "To think, I called him a wimpy as shit pencil pusher."
"A pencil pusher with a lot of leeway in the mayor's office. And he's had a lot of time to reorganize his father's connection network."
He then fired his grapple-shot toward a nearby weapon lying on the ground, pulled it toward him and placed it on his back. "I'll inform the Chief back in , see what else he can find out. He still says you should consider his offer, and that you've proven yourself more than ready."
Montoya paused, deep in thought. "I'll admit, it's a pretty sweet deal. New job, new benefits, a decent income. And, certainly a lot damn better than this place." Then, she sighed in regret. "But I'm not sure if I'm ready for that yet. With all that's been happening, I don't want to leave Gotham one good cop short. At least, not just yet."
"I understand," the Spartan nodded in acceptance. "Just know that the option's still there." Then, he turned and fired his grapple-shot up towards the gunship's rear platform. Montoya watched as he boarded the aircraft, and both disappeared into the night.
"At least he doesn't pull a vanishing act," she muttered to herself. She turned and walked over to her wounded cohort, who had fortunately fallen unconscious before the Spartan had arrived.
At the very least, he could offer true deniability to having any knowledge of the Spartan's presence. And of her current arrangement with the armored soldier.
'And it means less paperwork for me,' she thought.
She started tending to his injuries as best she could, just as a pair of squad cars pulled into the alley way. She waved to the new cops as they rushed over to help. She was, however, not so relieved to see the Commissioner exit one of the cars. From the look on his face, he wasn't all too happy to see her, or the war-torn street, either.
As he approached, he quickly noted the very large number of dead bodies lining the street. And the bullet-and-crater filled building. And the smoldering wrecks that were the gangster's former fleet of armored vehicles.
He then turned his attention towards her. She sighed as she rose up to greet him. "For the record, sir," Sergeant Renee Montoya said bluntly, "I'm not writing out the report for this mess."
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Phew! Well, that was something. I'm not entirely sure what it was…but it was something.
Anyhow, we've now met one of the few non-corrupted cops from the DC Comics/Gotham Knights video game: Renee Montoya. And of course, we now know the Spartan has a friendly contact in the city of crime. Given how close Gordon is to Batman, and that Barbara is Batgirl, it's logical to assume that the Spartan would want an associate that is a bit more…independent, so to speak.
So, I'll try to post the next chapter within the next few days. Until then, please read and review.