The Final Piece
The five of them dropped out of both sides of the vertibird gunship, the wind whipping harshly as the helicopter quickly pushed off and gained height. Hans and the others quickly scurried to the nearest building, the base of an air traffic control tower, and crouched by its decaying walls. The fence around the base was still mostly intact, as far as Hans could tell, but the base was clearly deserted. At least, on the outside. All around the perimeter of the base stood the dead trees of the Deisenhofener Forest, which once upon a time obscured the base from sight. What little light there was to see by was cast by the stars and a half-moon, bathing the base in a silvery glow. The perfect cover for infiltration, assuming there was anyone still living at the base.
"Do you have a plan?" the Panzertrooper, Erich Braun, said. Hans looked at him, standing upright in the open as if he was untouchable. Which, for all Hans knew, he was. The armored soldier was holding his weapon casually, expression hidden behind his helmet.
"If Item 224 is still here, it'll be inside the basement. Likely inside some kind of secure room or armory, yes? So, we go in, find the room, and grab it" Paul said.
"There's a good chance the room will be locked," Hans said. "So, room first, and if it's locked, key second. Remember, a place like this will have a decent amount of automated security, so keep your eyes out for Panzerbots and turrets."
The others nodded and they got moving. The doors to the air traffic control tower were locked, so they carefully skirted around it to the base's short runway. There were a few crumbling aircraft hangars across the way, the few planes outside the hangars destroyed. Intentionally, from the look of it. What was odd was that the two vertibirds still at the base looked intact. The team went, one by one, from the relative cover of the ATC tower to a row of nearby Quonset huts.
By the huts was a large three-story building, no doubt the admin building. The five of them proceeded straight to the nearest door and crouched by it, weapons at the ready. "After you," Hans said to Erich, who nodded. The towering Panzertrooper stepped up to the closed door.
"With pleasure." He tried the door, which seemed to be locked. Hans was ready to start looking for another door when Erich rammed his armored fist into the frame by the doorknob and the door popped open, the hinges creaking. He hefted his weapon, pushed the door open with his foot, and was about to step in when a torrent of yellow lasers flashed into him. To Hans' amazement the Panzertrooper was unharmed, and casually lifted his gun. Hans watched the coils around the barrel glow briefly before launching a solid hunk of steel at supersonic velocity, eliciting a thick *hwock!* sound. There was a muted explosion from inside the building and the laser fire stopped.
"M72 Gauss Rifle. Rheinmetall's greatest gift to our world" Erich said, and lumbered through the open door. Hans shot a look at Paul, who wagged his eyebrows. The rest of them quickly followed the Panzertrooper into the admin building, closing the door the best they could behind them. Hans kept low, quickly taking in the hall they'd entered. On the floor were the smashed remains of a ceiling-mounted laser turret, still smoldering. They all followed Erich as he strode down the hall, pausing where it ended in a T-junction. To the right the hall continued on, going back into the building. To the left was a staircase, leading down.
"Which way?" Erich asked, his attention on Hans. The basement, or what ever the military equivalent was, was clearly down the stairs, so he gestured at the staircase. The five of them headed down the stairs, Erich in the lead. At the bottom of the stairs was another door, this one clearly much more secure. Hans took one look at the door and frowned.
"I don't suppose your kick technique will work on this one?" Hans asked, and Erich shook his head. The door was a kind of a vault door, with a large handle on the front and a card reader on the wall to the right. Hans tried the handle on principle alone and, as expected, it didn't budge an inch. "Christ's sake, it never changes."
"Upstairs. The keycard will likely be in the base commander's office" Erich said. Hans nodded and the team went back up the stairs, down the hall, and to the main hall of the admin building. The door they'd gone through was on the far right side of the building, the expanse of the main hall opening up to their left as they came out. There was a large model globe in the center of the floor, flanked by two flags: die Flagge Deutschlands, and the flag of the European Commonwealth, their colors faded and frayed, but still standing.
There was a second floor mezzanine, overlooking the main hall, but no staircase. The team kept close to the wall under the mezzanine, moving slowly across the hall. It reminded Hans a bit of the concourse at the Hamburg Airport, with its long sightlines and open areas. At the end of the hall was an open threshold, a bulletin board visible on it. With no where else to go the team was about to make their way over to it when a Panzerbot came grinding around the corner.
The tank-like bot's turret rotated and the team scattered, seeking cover wherever they could. Hans hunkered down behind the model globe as the bot opened fire with its MG-34, filling the air with a mix of lead and thunder. He peeked out from around the globe and returned fire, the bot's turret rotating away from him. It seemed to be focusing on Erich, which was no surprise to Hans. The nebelwerfer on the right side of the bot's turret opened up, sending two rockets screaming across the concourse and into the wall, narrowly missing Erich as he dropped behind a desk.
On semi-auto the G11 cycled as smooth as butter, barely pushing his shoulder and hardly moving at the muzzle. Hans put round after round on the bot's chassis, trying to aim for the treads, where the bot was weakest. The bot fired another three rockets at Erich's position before changing targets, reversing across the tile to get a better position. The turret rotated towards the rest of the team, nebelwerfer rotating like a revolver's cylinder.
Hans pulled back to reload just as the Panzerbot opened fire, its machine gun fire punching fresh holes into the globe. He dropped to the floor, the bullets zinging overhead, and quickly slammed another magazine into the G11. The Panzerbot shifted fire again, the concourse filled with a chaotic din of gunfire and explosions. Hans remained prone and eased up to the base of the globe, taking aim again. Klara's Drilling thundered hard, the rifle round tearing straight through the bot's armor but doing minimal damage.
Hans was about to open fire again when he saw Erich stand from behind the desk, take aim, and fire. The M72's slug hit the bot's nebelwerfer and set off one of the rockets within, causing a chain reaction that tore the bot apart. Red-hot pieces of steel, rivets, and bolts came raining down all around them, clattering across the floor. Hans rose into a crouch, ready for more, but the room quickly fell silent. The five of them left their cover and headed for the threshold, with Paul stopping briefly to check the Panzerbot's remains for any salvage.
"Such a shame when the fight ends too soon" Erich said as they went up the stairs, though Hans couldn't exactly agree. Maybe if he had his own SPAS-suit, like Erich, he'd find it fun. Erich stopped at the top of the stairs, Gauss Rifle up. Hans caught a glimpse of a laser turret turning to face the threat and waited for the two seconds it took Erich to end its very boring and simple life before proceeding up the rest of the steps to the mezzanine.
"How does that thing even work?" Klara asked.
"The gun, or the suit?"
Klara blinked. "Er, both, I suppose."
"The M72's a coilgun. Magnetic induction forces a solid steel slug down the barrel at hypersonic speeds. Zero recoil. The gun's a deadeye on its own, more accurate than any human" Erich said. "The suit's a little less sophisticated, but it's worth the disadvantages." He pointed to his right elbow. "Military-grade electron charge packs power the joint servos, but that's as high-tech as it gets. Hence why it's called 'Semi-Powered' Armor Suit. The suit's assembled on me like a medieval knight's armor, and is miserably hot. The helmet's more like a bucket with a gas mask glued on. Whole thing feels like wearing an armored Sladen Suit."
"But you're invincible as a result, yes?"
Erich scoffed. "If only. Lasers can't touch me, but plasma's a threat. Anything more powerful than an 8mm Mauser could probably punch through the neck, underarm, and thigh armor. Rockets and grenades are a death sentence. Shrapnel can't harm me, but the pressure wave will crush all my organs. A high fall will break my legs or kill me, and the servo system is vulnerable to water. It's not perfect, but the extra protection is worth it, and being able to punch or kick through locked doors, or skulls, is a whole heap of fun."
"I'll take your word for it," Hans said. "I wouldn't be caught dead in one, if it's even half as awful to wear one as you make it sound."
"You'd change your mind the first time a marauder fires a shotgun at you point blank and watches in horror as you shrug it off and casually blast a hole in his chest. Only thing better was American Power Armor, and no one will ever get their hands on one of those now that America's been blasted back into an Atomic Stone Age. If one of those T-51 suits is just 10% as powerful as they claimed I'd live in it 24/7."
Hans nodded. "Clearly your SPAS suit is military tech, so you've obviously been to other military bases before. Any idea where we should go from here?"
"I haven't been here before, but the base commander's office is usually on the top floor. We'll just keep following the stairs up, and kill everything that makes the mistake of standing in our way. Follow me." The team followed Erich as he proceeded across the mezzanine to a nearby pair of double doors, guarded by the now-destroyed laser turret. He pushed the doors open, erased the laser turrets beyond, and they continued on. As they walked down the hall the floors transitioned from tile to carpet, the walls transitioning from brick to wood paneling. The higher up they went the nicer the building became, a sure sign they were on track to the officers' area of the admin building.
As they ascended the steps to the third floor Hans noticed a Panzerbot halfway down the hall, its back to them. As they fanned out, heading for the doors lining the hall, the bot turned around. Hans ushered Hilda through one of the doors and opened fire before the bot could so so first, trying his best to aim for the bot's nebelwerfer. It finished turning and that's when Hans saw that the Panzerbot had two of the rocket launchers, the pods rotating as the bot prepared to fire. Hans ducked into the room and scrambled back from the door, the frame disappearing in a shower of toothpicks as one of the rockets blew it apart.
Hans took the room in at a glance, to make sure it was safe, and took cover behind a row of filing cabinets. Hilda took cover in the corner, crouched behind a metal desk. The Panzerbot fired multiple rockets, blasting the walls apart in a shower of stone, stucco, and bricks. The other members of the team sporadically returned fire, unable to move much in the tight confines. The same went for the Panzerbot, thankfully, and as simple-minded as they are it was no trouble to bait it.
As expected the Panzerbot came down the hall in pursuit, turret rotating menacingly. Hans fired short bursts at its hull, the small bullets punching tiny holes in the bot's chassis. It finished its turned and fired, two rockets screaming over Hans' head and out the window. He practically collapsed onto the floor, scurrying down and popping up to return fire again. Hilda shifted position and joined in, though her 9mm MP5 had even less of an effect.
Hans ran empty and dropped the G11, going for the Mars Automatic. He ducked behind the filing cabinets, went back the other way, and popped up again. The Mars cracked, harshly kicking his hand, the heavy mechanism cycling stiffly. The .45-caliber round smashed through one of the bot's sensors, causing it to stutter as it tried to move.
Hans was about to fire again when he saw Erich appear behind the Panzerbot, raising his M72 Gauss Rifle. Hans dropped to the floor and Erich fired, the coilgun's slugs effortlessly punching through the bot's chassis and the filing cabinets. Hans heard the bot shut down and, after a moment, stood. The rest of the floor seemed clear, giving the team a moment's reprieve.
"Nice shot. Bet you're glad he came along with us, eh?" Paul said, and Hans nodded. The team reloaded their weapons and got moving again, heading down the hall towards the door at the end. There were no turrets outside, so the five of them were free to ease up to the closed door. Hans nodded to Erich, who opened the door and stepped in as if he owned the place. He shut the door behind him and Hans heard what sounded like two laser turrets firing, their high-pitched whine silenced by two muted explosions. Erich opened the door back up and the team entered the room, quickly spreading out.
As expected, they'd reached the base commander's office. The large, U-shaped desk dominated most of the room, the chair behind it knocked over. There were no bodies or skeletons, here or anywhere else in the building, Hans realized. It was odd how abandoned the building seemed, but he had a sinking suspicion that the basement would be occupied by all the seemingly missing soldiers.
"Check the terminal."
At Erich's recommendation Hans nodded. The terminal on the desk was still on and functioning but, as Hans had expected, locked. He uprighted the chair and sat down, praying the password would be written around somewhere. He pulled open the desk's few drawers and rifled through them, looking for sheets of paper or a logbook, but found nothing but junk. Sighing, Hans pressed one of the keys and the 'enter password' screen came up. "Hell. We're gonna need a password, so everyone keep an eye out."
"Just hack it."
Hans looked up at their Panzertrooper guide. "And just how would I do that?"
"Find and press the command function key, and on the subsequent screen type in 'set terminal/inquire' and press enter." Hans did as told, finding the key and entering the command. The screen changed to some kind of recovery mode, a mostly blank screen broken up only by the command Hans had entered. "Now enter 'set file/protection=owner:rwed accounts.f. After that, enter 'set halt restart/maint.'"
Hans entered in the commands. The terminal froze for a few seconds before displaying a series of strange numbers and irrelevant information and then proceeding to vomit a nearly-indecipherable list of discombobulated symbols, randomly broken up by complete words. "...What the fuck am I looking at?"
"It's a password reset system, normally accessible only by a technician. With the right knowhow though you can break into basically any RobCo terminal. See the words listed? They're ciphers, keyed to the individual terminal. Guess the right one and the system unlocks. Get it wrong, and you get screwed. How long are the words?" Erich asked.
"Five letters."
"Should be easy. Just click on one randomly."
Hans selected 'sands' and the display read 'entry denied, 1/5 correct.' "I picked 'sands.' It was the wrong word."
"There should be a few words in there that rhyme with it. Avoid them, none of them will be correct. Pick a word with different syllables."
Hans tried another, 'tarps.' 3/5 correct. "Closer. Tarps, three of five."
"Try one with another vowel, like I or U."
"Burps. Four of five correct."
"Any other words in there that rhyme with it?"
Hans looked the list over, carefully inspecting it for any words that rhyme with 'burps.' He was beginning to think there were none when he saw it, at the bottom of the second list. He clicked over to it and, after a moment's hesitation, clicked it. The screen went blank and then came back, stating 'logon admin, enter password now.' Hans typed in the word and then he was in. "Got it! Password was 'gurps.' What the Hell does 'gurps' mean?"
"Forget it, just see if the terminal tells us where the basement keycard is" Erich said, and went back to searching the wood filing cabinets along with the rest of the team. Hans began picking his way through the terminal's various entries, ignoring the usual trite like troop deployment info, personal notes, inventory logs, etc. There was a file labeled 'progress reports', which seemed promising. Hans clicked and began to read.
'December 17, 2076.
This is one of the best-intentioned but biggest pipe dreams I've ever heard of in my life. The Replikationsgerät Ausführung A, a damned cloning machine. The Reichstag insisted we divert valuable resources from actual concrete projects to this fairytale, and like any good soldier, I'm indistinguishable from a gullible stooge when I say 'yes sir!' and salute. Instead of contributing to the war(s) in a valuable way, like BMW and Rheinmetall have and continue to do, Porsche and IG Farben teamed up to create this scam. I have to give them credit for it, at least. They certainly stand to make a shitton of money off it(not that money has that much value these days anyway.)
Right, so, the replicator. Porsche handled all the mechanical and technical crap that I can hardly understand, and I must admit what they've created is truly impressive. I mean, only a genius could design a machine as big as a car that requires more energy than an aircraft carrier to clone a banana. Except, of course, it doesn't work. Not without what IG Farben has labelled Item 224.
Gone are the days where IG Farben would make pesticides and chlorine gas for the Fatherland, replaced by these very strange days in which our government frivolously wastes time, money, and manpower on a fantasy. IG Farben gave up their traditional projects to create what they described as 'induced cellular division.' What that actually means I couldn't tell you, but they asked us to help them test it.
Funny thing is, it works. Dunno if it'll work on fruits and vegetables, but it sure worked on the people we tested it on. I let the IG Farben rep know that our testing regimen has concluded and that they're free to come pick up their samples whenever they please. For the time being I've ordered that the samples be stored in the hazardous materials locker in the basement, with the passcode locked away in the usual way.'
Hans frowned. They tested whatever this stuff is on people? Who? Why?! He backed out of the logs, saw a command key on the terminal named 'secure lock release', and selected it. A hidden compartment on the desk popped open, a faded yellow keycard stored inside. He picked it up and looked it over before slipping it into a pocket and standing. "I found the basement access key. Let's go."
As they left the office and began the trek back to the basement door Hans decided that if he never found out the answers to his questions he'd be perfectly OK with that.
After inserting the keycard the basement door had opened without incident, which Hans had appreciated as a welcome change of pace from being shot at by laser turrets everywhere they went. Beyond the door had been a gently sloped hall, leading to a spiral staircase descending deep into the earth. The team had taken the stairs and ended up in a hall lined by pipes on one side and windows on the other, in which they now stood.
"I feel like there being no security here ought to make feel more safe, not less" Klara remarked, and Hans had to agree. The hall, the stairs, none of it had any security. No turrets, no Panzerbots, not even human guards. There was a fair amount of dust on the floor, disturbed by their feet. Nothing and no one had been down in the bunker in years.
Hans stepped up to the windows lining the right side of the hall and took a look. It was a large, cavernous room, dominated by a metallic spire stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Attached to the spire were four large pods, big enough for a person to stand in. He could see a few doors around the room, closed. "Nothing to do but press on" he said, and the team got moving. They took the hall down to where it sharply turned right, a straight staircase leading them down to the ground floor.
The door at the bottom opened like a pair of scissors, granting them access to the room with the spire. The five of them spread out, weapons at the ready and staying alert for any surprises. Erich and Paul went left, Klara and Hilda went right, leaving Hans free to walk straight up to the spire. There was a faint hum in the energy, like from high-voltage power lines, and he ran a hand along one of the pods. It resembled an upright metal coffin, sealed shut, a scale pattern running down the front of it. The other sides were glass smooth, a few cables and wires running up into the spire behind it.
Hans walked around the spire and noticed the other three pods were open, their interiors lined with leather padding and a jumble of strange technical and mechanical doodads. The pods were clearly meant to be occupied by people, but why and for what only God knew.
He heard the scuff of a shoe and turned to find Hilda standing next to him, looking the spire over. A little voice in his head reminded him of the ways their relationship was changing, reminded him that he was beginning to look at her differently, for a number of reasons, but he ignored it. The flames of passion were for romantics and teenagers; they were adults, who lived in very difficult times and had to do very difficult things to survive. Hilda, to her credit, wasn't all over him at all hours of the day either. Her mind was clearly on the mission, despite how her feelings were no doubt crying for her attention.
"What even is this thing?" she asked, and Hans shook his head. It was important, clearly, but probably not relevant to the mission. Hans shrugged and got moving again, heading for one of the room's other doors. It was sealed, a small control panel on the wall next to it. Hans moved aside, hit the button, and the door opened. He slowly peeked around the frame, a non-descript wall the only thing visible. He edged out a little further and saw that there was a hall on the other side of the door, running directly to the left, parallel to the room. Hans eased around the corner, another door a short distance on the hall, a laser turret mounted on the ceiling above it. He was about to raise his G11 when the turret came to life, an MG-42 barrel with yellow diodes glowing as it came to bear. He quickly scurried back around the corner just as the turret fired, the high whine changed to a dull thunder in the tight confines of the hall, the air thick with the odor of ozone.
"Are you OK?!" Hilda asked, crouching next to him. She was looking him over, the same way she'd done during the battle at the Brandenburg Gate, a lifetime ago, and nodded. "You're OK." The others quickly came running, mindful to avoid the open door.
"I think I found something important" Hans said, nodding to the door. Erich stepped up, M72 in hand. Hans watched him walk without fear into the hall, the lasers reflecting off his armor. He raised his Gauss Rifle and fired, the turret exploding with a sharp bang, and stepped aside to allow Hans to enter. The menacing laser turret had been rendered into a pile of harmless diodes, leaving the way open. Hans approached the sealed door, eyes on the wall-mounted terminal to the left. There were no buttons or handles on the door, so he tried the terminal. There was an 'open door' function, but it required a password, so there was no other option but to read the terminal's single log entry.
'Notice to all personnel.
This room is to remain locked until such time as the representative(s) from IG Farben and its subsidiaries comes to retrieve the six (6) samples of Item 224 from within. Due to the nature of Item 224, it may be handled only by said representative(s) of IG Farben and its subsidiaries. If, for any reason, including the arrival of IG Farben's representative(s), the sample(s) must be accessed the individual seeking to access them will be required to complete the facility's VR security program and remain under the supervision of Lt. Stuckart, Lt. Bayer, or Kapitan Strausse.'
Hans frowned. "Apparently, to access this room, one of us will have to complete the 'VR security program', whatever the Hell that means" he said, and turned to face the others.
"Mm, we've heard of this sort of thing," Paul said. "According to a few of our esteemed Panzertroopers and Stormtroopers, a few of the military bases they've raided have had virtual reality systems in them. What's actually in these VR programs, no one can say. I doubt there'll be another way in to the room."
"Erich?" Hans asked, and the Panzertrooper shook his head.
"Tried it before. Ended up with a dented boot."
"Very well, then, let's go have a look at this computer shit" Hans said, and the team went back into the main room. Hans approached one of the empty pods and gave it another look, but he came to the same conclusion: it looked like a metal coffin. Even with the leather cushions it'd be claustrophobic and distinctly unpleasant. There were no terminals or computers attached to or near the pods, so they were in the dark. He unslung his G11 and handed it to Hilda, who frowned.
"You're not going in there, are you?" she asked.
"One of us has to, and it certainly can't be Erich. It's a virtual reality program, how bad could it be?" he asked. He unholstered the Mars Automatic and also handed that to Hilda, who winced at its weight and size and immediately set it down on the floor. "It's just us, for the time being. The Coalition still hasn't put in an appearance, so we've got time. I'll go in, complete what ever the security course is supposed to be, and get that code. We don't know if there's a way out in the simulation, so give me one hour and then pull me out. Got it?"
The others nodded, except for Hilda. She fidgeted, her hands on her hips. She quickly grabbed one of Hans' hands and gave it a squeeze. "...I don't know what it is, but I have a bad feeling about this stupid thing. Be quick, OK? Get in, and get out" she said, and Hans nodded.
He let go of her hands, turned back to face the pod, and blew out a breath. He stepped up into the cramped thing and turned around, lying back and watching the darkness flood his vision as Erich pushed the pod's door shut. A few very dim blue lights turned on, providing just enough light to see by. There was a respirator mask in front of him, which he put on, along with two glove-like apparatuses at waist level he was clearly expected to put his hands in to. He did so and looked up, wondering if there was anything else he was supposed to do. The air provided by the respirator was weird, and it took him a moment to realize that was because it was so clean. There were none of the usual odors that lingered everywhere; the smog and dust and acrid smoke. It was fresh, clean, pure air.
Hans took a deep breath and he was hit with a sudden sense of vertigo, his head spinning. He tried to move and found his limbs heavy, unresponsive. He closed his eyes and then he was out like a light.