Authors note: Well what do you know. After one long tedious night finishing the story, I'm back to writing. You know, they have to give us hard working authors a dream resort. With roller coasters, the beach, no writing untensils in sight, and some hot girls (I can see it now).Or I can just go to my TV, and watch The Matrix for the billionth time. Either way it's good. Anyways please R&R (read and review) and look out for another fanfic I'm writing at the moment called The Therapist. Now sit back Ladies and Gentlemen and enjoy the thrid installment of SOLDATEN.

PART III

Ian raced down the sewers hoping that the Anarchists didn't follow him. The girl on his back was light, and wasn't much of burden, but she was still being a nuisance. "Shut up" whispered Ian to the girl. She only moaned. Ian knew that if she were to keep her moaning up the Anarchists would find them, then she would be killed without hesitation and him, well the anarchists learned something from the angels that attacked Japan; something called "mind-rape." The words sent chills up your spine just thinking about it. Ian's feet pounded the wet cement as he ran. He didn't know where he was going, because he had cut his connection with Chrissie. If he hadn't severed the connection, the Anarchists would find the refugee camp, and then there would be nowhere to run to.Marthaand Vendellas "Nowhere to run" played through his head as he sprinted through the sewers. Every turn was either a dead-end or a dark passageway; either one was bad.

"Hey boss! I heard something over here." A soldier shouted.

"Probably another Refugee idiot; time to kill us another wetback boys!" shouted another. His comrades shouted in agreement.

"Oh Shit." Thought Ian. He knew he was screwed if he was caught by the Anarchists. The good thing about an Anarchist is that he couldn't hit the broadside of a barnyard door, but what they lacked in skill they made up for in numbers. If they fired, in matter of seconds, Ian knew he would be shot. And that's all he need from depleted uranium shells, agonizing pain, and more agonizing pain. Ian paused for a minute. He knew he could lose the Anarchists in the air ducts. He looked around. There was one about a few yards from his position. He ran to it, but wondered how he was going to stuff a 20 something, unconscious woman into an air duct without her screaming. And would there be enough time to escape the Anarchists. He didn't care; Ian pried off the air duct gate. Ian looked inside and only whistled. It was going to be a tight squeeze, but at least it would be safer than traveling through the sewers. Ian cursed; she was wearing a skirt with military skivvies under. Ian hoped she didn't wake up. That would be an awkward situation. Ian was a doctor, so he saw both sexes naked a lot, but only when they were drugged, and asleep. Ian could hear footsteps coming closer. "No time for second thoughts about women's panties," thought Ian as he threw her in the air duct and jumped in after her.

The air duct was more crammed than Ian expected. He could barely move his arms. All he could use to push himself and the mage was his feet. Slowly but surely, he inched himself and the girl into the duct. About 60 yards later, Ian decided to turn on his radio. He needed an exit; crawling through an air duct had lost its fun. "crack fzzzt click" went the radio, Chrissie's voice came over the earpiece. "Ian…do you know where you are?"

"In the shits?" he answered.

"Your friends' EKG is growing faint. You've got to get here as fast as you can, take the vent route."

"You're kidding right? I survived bullets now I have to be chopped to death by some rotating knives of death, just so you can see some red haze come out the ventilation! No thank you!"

"Just go! I'll stop the rotors and when you're behind give me the heads up so I can push you towards the laundry room. Start walking…now!"

"All right so I just go forward? Sounds simple; there isn't a catch is there?" Ian spoke as he inched his way to the engineering room.

"Just one." answered Chrissie.

"Great, what is it?"

"Commander Aida's coming with Field Marshall Langley-Soryu."

"Commander Kensuke Aida and Field Marshall Asuka Langley-Soryu of the Gaia-Mage Defense Alliance are coming here? Yeah right, you just want me back quicker, cause you can't stand being without me, right?"

"Shut up, Baka! We just received the transmission from the Wyvern, Aida's command gunship. I can play it for you if you want."

"No thanks, how long do I have?

"10 minutes at the least."

"Crap, what do they expect! Run the Gauntlet in 6 minutes! Without getting me or precious here killed."

"Ian,just shut up and move! You've got 9 minutes, Takahashi out."

"Damn." Ian could now here the grinding of metal from the engineering room. He pushed the mage out of the tunnel and onto a scaffold and then climbed out. Ian checked her pulse. Damn, these mages were strong; she wasn't dead yet. He hoisted the girl on his shoulders and started walking towards the control room.His boots hit the metal floorboard hard giving off a sound that rebounded and echoed throughout the complex. Ian shivered as he heard the sound. Couldn't once he just have smooth sailing on one of these rescue missions just once? He opened the door to the control room; nobody. Ian knew that the quickest way would be ignoring Chrissie's way and taking a shortcut through the water purification system. It was a far cry from the vents in terms of safety, but if lucky Ian knew he and the girl would make it. He ran to the edge of the control room and jumped off. If he aimed it right he would be in an aqueduct heading towards the water purification system. CLANK His stomach hit the edge, even though he was protected by the armor, he got the wind knocked out of him. Gasping for air, he started to swim towards his exit. The refugee camp or New Bronx as the locals called it got its water from aqueducts that ran up and down the streets like rivers. Ian knew if he got off at the hospital exit, he would have enough time to care for the mage and seem like he wasn't playing John Wayne in the sewers. "Oh shit…" Ian fell into a chasm that he hadn't thought of. "Goddamn it!" Ian shouted, now he would have to get off a kilometer from the hospital. His arms scrambled to get to the exit, but the current was too fast. Ian knew he would end right back up in the sewers if he didn't make the exit. His arms failed uselessly until he remembered he had his pulse rifle still. He could usethebutt of gunas a hook, if he got in close enough. He reached with his rifle, hoping it to latch on to the gate. Ian stretched his gun out to where he could barely reach it. The thing he feared was true; his gun was too short. Then Ian remembered the girl's staff. He could use the insignia at the end as a hookto grab the edge. Ian shouldered his rifle then; he grabbed the staff and extended it. Perfect. It latched on without a hitch. He pulled himself and the girl towards the gate. Now the part Ian hated. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!" The drop. Ian swerved in and out of the turns. He dodged the obstacles and fragments of metal. As a kid he never went on any roller coasters, so this was his form of hell. Ian closed his eyes as he was entering the last drop. Ian couldn't scream this time, he threw up. Ian raced down the pipe line, until he could see light. He slowed down as he entered the "rivers" of the New Bronx. He stopped his ride, and leapt out of the aqueduct and started running with the mage on his back. People didn't stare long; this was part of their daily life. At least twice a week somebody came in Hollywood style, bring in someone who had just fought in a skirmish. It was nothing new to them.

Ian could hear the helipads opening up for the gunships. He had a little bit of time left. As he was running towards the hospital, Ian caught a glimpse of the mages gunships. In this war, the mages relied heavily on their gun ships because they had a certain lack of respect for tanks. Their gunships used VTOL technology, equipped with the most advanced missile systems and auto-slug cannon, and looked like an AH-1 with wings and without a rotor. Ian ran into the hospital and begged for a room. "Please! Please! You've got to get this woman a room!"

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't just…"

"DO IT!" screamed Ian. In a much calmer voice he continued "I'm a doctor, she'll get immediate medical attention with me, and then she'll be moved. I promise."

"All right," replied the receptionist "C-wing, 26th floor, Room 2603."

"Thank you." Rushed Ian as he ran towards the elevator. Ian pressed the 26th floor button and proceeded down. New Bronx was an underground city so everything went down, including floors. He finally reached his destination, he scrambled for room 2603. He finally found the room, located conviently close to the elevator. He opened the door up and looked around. It was a nice one-bed room with a view of the city. He took the girl of his back and laid her on the cotton sheets. Ian checked her pulse once again. She was fine, a nice surprise but somehow unlikely. He heard the mages were powerful, but he never knew they could cheat death. He applied some tourniquets to her legs and bandaged her back to stop the bleeding. Ian convinced himself that this was like dressing a corpse. The girl had malnutrition, she was very skinny and from the looks of things she was even weak, not much of soldier in Ian's eyes. But somehow she survived going all throughout the sewers and even through the aqueducts. Ian finished dressing her when he noticed something else. The mage was clinging onto a piece of paper. He took from her hand and read it: "Meet me in the Bronx, Love Kyle." He took out the ring that he found earlier. The names engraved were Gracie and Kyle. Maybe her name was Gracie. He set the pieces of paper and the ring on a desk. Ian powered down his armor, and took it off. He glanced at his armor. Bloodstained, battered, and shot; yep another day in the Bronx. He swapped his armor for a white lab coat that was hanging above. At least he'd look presentable. He glanced at the clock. The mages and Chrissie were both late. Ian decided he'd look outside at the city. Ian opened the window, as a blast of cool air kissed his face. Ian scanned the skyline of the New Bronx. The city was fairly unassuming on the top level, not much to see. The entire 'skyline' was deep underground; Ian saw the other buildings with their walkways and people bustling about. In the early 20th century New York took precautions in case of an Angel reached American shores. Unlike Tokyo-3, the first fortress city, New York was able to keep its old buildings. The only thing they had to do was to build these "Geo-fronts" so that the buildings could go underground. Nobody understood it much except for the fact that it took 9 years production time to complete. By the time it was completed, 3rd Impact was right around the corner.Then the whole city retreated underground to avoid the fallout. The Refugee camp was underground or barely above the surface, even though what remained of New York was above ground. The top level of the refugee camp was about sub-level 5 so thelevel Ian was at sub-level 32 or something like that. Ian heard the click of the door opening. Chrissie walked in holding two mugs of hot coffee, a semi-gourmet treat in the post 3rd Impact days. "Thanks for the coffee." He said gratefully.

"Put the coffee down." Demanded Chrissie.

"Ok, for what?"

"For this." SLAP! Chrissie hit Ian straight across the face leaving his face with a red-pink hue.

"OW! What was that for!" yelled Ian.

"You deserved it." Said a red haired woman in her mid-30's who walked through the doorway.

"Don't worry it'll heal it time, she still does that to Shinji." Continued a man about the same age as the woman.