The 99th Platoon – The FlatFeet Saga
Act Three: Into the Lair

(A/N Back in the real world things start to heat up as we rapidly approach the end of the longest novel to date at a whopping 23 chapters. Not much more to say, I hope you've enjoyed everything and thank you for taking the time to read our work.)

Chapter 21: One Last Stand

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
The electronic probes attached to Sarge blew off with a pressurized hiss. He woke up screaming in full sweat. Trembling all over he tore off the cables keeping him connected to the machine. He barely had time to breathe when the door to C-Lab blew open.
"CODE OMEGA! CODE OMEGA!" It was the Lift Operator, a handsome Squirrel by the name of Sergio Pernandez. He nursed his bleeding hands. Rope burn had torn them to bloody ribbons.
Code Omega, Sarge though - the call for the "last stand".
Meaning security was breached.
Meaning they were in deep .

The next thing Dark knew was that he was sitting down, staring up at the ceiling. His vision was blurred, and his hearing was horrid. There was a slight ringing in his ears. He heard a slight hiss, and he was free. He cleared the rest of the straps and probes off of him and looked to the lift shaft. He could see a blurry figure standing there. His hands were crimson. Must've been the Lift Operator.
He was yelling something. Dark could barely hear it. Then, it slowly donned on the Panther what was happening. His hearing and sight adjusted just in time to hear the Lift Operator yell it one more time. Dark growled and looked to Sarge. He nodded with a grin. It was time. The Panther reached to his side and grabbed his sword. He grabbed it and threw off his trench coat, revealing the steel black scabbard on his back. He sheathed his sword, and snickered.

Oreos' eyes flickered open. The Squirrel sat up and looked around. One by one they were slowly starting to recover.
He looked at the still body of the Professor, the flat green line showing his heartbeat reminding Oreos of the partial failure of the mission. Oreos ripped the wires off his forehead, arms, and chest. He felt dizzy and weak.
"Damn, I haven't felt like this since Pyst's birthday party..."
But, there was no time to lose. The entire room shook. Dust fell from the ceiling. The Tediz finally arrived. Oreos walked out of the room, made a left towards the weapons cache. Upon arrival, he kicked the door open. The Squirrel calmly walked in, flicked the lights open, and his knees instantly grew weak.
"Oh baby..."
He looked around him. Looks like the 99th platoon finally got some decent funding. A large room with guns neatly place on tables in the middle, and rifles, pistols, explosives all hanging on the walls, waiting to be used.
A bit dissatisfied with the fact that the K7 Avenger was not here, Oreos shrugged it off and took a look at the new weapons. He stocked him self with 2 Luger Pistols, tucked neatly in his belt, a Tactical 12-Gauge strapped behind his back, and finally a SBP90 Submachine gun.
"Let''s get it on."

As Omega was removed from FlatFeet's mind, he woke up back in the containment tube. He summed up enough of his sapped strength to break the glass, and he flopped to the ground, the stasis liquid sloshing in a pool around him. He heard the sirens of Code Omega being sounded. He didn't really care. He drifted off into unconsciousness.

"Shouldn't we help him?" asked Oreos.
"Leave him be," answered Sarge, "He's been through a lot, let him rest."
RedStorm shook his head as he got up; the Squirrel quickly regained his senses. Grabbing an M-9 he placed it in a strap on his thigh. Lastly he took his favourite rifle the M-16 Assault Rifle and loaded it up. Nodding to himself, he looked at Sarge and the others.
"Tediz...lets rock!"
Sarge grinned as more and more pneumatic hisses were heard. Very soon Pyst was cackling, clutching his real minigun, Blaze was cracking his knuckles, Chael had loaded a sniper and donned his wrap-round shades, Ajax burned the bottom of his paw with his lighter, Stealth swung his sword, getting used to its weight, while Ricy and WWW loaded ammo clips into assault rifles.
There was a soft thud behind them. CoolGuy had pounded his palm with his fist. His brass knuckles were in place, his gift sword hanging loosely at his waist.
"You didn't seriously think I'd let you go without me did you?" the Venezuelan grinned. Sarge nodded, facing Sergio.
"Take care of the others as they come out. Are the rest of the 99th on the surface?"
"Twisted, Squeaky, Cartman and Snickers left here as soon as I got the message to them."
"You heard that boys… Our men are up there, and they need our help. Now."

Mon looked around him. The city was crumbling. The sky was disappearing. Omega had lost.
But Mon wouldn't leave. He still had a job to do. Deja was wounded. Not in her body, but this was her mind. If he didn't cure her now, she would probably go insane He laid Deja down and began to work, the buildings and sky evaporating around him.
Mon wiped sweat form his forehead and looked at Deja. He figured she was good enough now.
"Girl, you sure had it rough this time 'round."
True. He gently flipped her over and slightly lifted her shirt. He was glad to see that the kidney wound had now turned into a small scar, hidden by fur.
Mon hoisted Deja up on his arms. He took one last look at the dissipating world around him, and nodded with satisfaction to nothing in particular.
Mon would recall, later in his life, how it felt to be grabbed on every inch of your body, and wrenched out of nothingness. He woke up and thought he had gone blind. He wiped his eyes and got up. He fell like a dead weight to the floor and cried out loudly, he had forgotten that he was supposed to be confined to a wheel chair.
He wiped his eyes again and looked up at Deja. She was still unconscious. He dragged himself to the to his wheel chair, wiped his eyes one final time and tried to make sense as to what the hell was going on and why all the alarms were blaring. The other 99ers had joined the battle upstairs. He saw Sergio, quaking slightly every time a major explosion occur on the surface.
"Kid! Come here! Gimme hand with FlatFeet!"
Sergio went to FlatFeet who still lay semi-paralysed by the stasis tube. Trembling slightly he lifted FlatFeet up.
FlatFeet's eyes snapped open, and he grabbed Sergio's hands in his own.
The Lift Operator became calm as he hoisted the unconscious Squirrel from the ground.

On the main floor, a small Tediz group was waiting impatiently. There were three elevators, and right when the middle one made a ding, 3 Tediz ran in front of it.
The doors slowly slid open and the Tediz aimed their rifles.
The empty elevator was riddled with bullets.
Satisfied that no one could have survived, the Tediz C.O. made a motion with his paw for another Tediz to cover his back. The Tediz walked slowly towards the elevator, then quickly dove in on his back and shot at the top of the elevator. Surely enough nothing was there.
The two Tediz resumed position, but then the elevator on the left dinged and opened. The Tediz pointed their guns at it, but nothing came out of the doors. They loosened up, and then turned their backs.
THUD
Oreos' boots made a thud as they hit the ground. He walked out of the elevator and took out all the Tediz before they knew what hit them. Oreos waited patiently for the third and final lift carrying the others to arrive.

HQ was a mess.
The Tediz forces were certainly elite level. They were trained to do exactly what they were doing now.
Attack. Attack until they are 6 feet under.
The operation must have been pre-planned. The Tediz must have been aware that the 99th was under the weather as a unit.
Omega's rampage across the country most certainly made sure of that.
Squirrels with machine gun clips strung all over them ran to and fro, delivering the golden chains of ammunition to the turrets in the base where it was needed the most.
But there were so many Tediz. It was so unexpected...so unthinkable that they would openly attack HQ...
The Agency was fighting for its life and losing, but the Tediz needed one thing to remain constant. The 99th must still be battling Omega. If they came out...
Sarge knew this. As he and his men rode to the top of the shaft he smiled.
No more games.
No more tricks.
Lots of time.

The elevator jerked to a stop. They were waiting for the 'open' button to be jabbed. Sarge held his finger over it.
Dark rolled his neck and shoulders, popping them in one long fluid motion. He snorted.
"Here goes..."

ping!

The lift doors opened with their distinct ringing.
Silence. Nothing in sight down the corridors...
Safeties were dropped. Oreos joined them from nearby as they slowly began to explore the area ahead.
Dark looked to his right to see a bloodied Squirrel, leaning on the wall because he didn't have enough strength to hold himself up. The Panther leaned down to him. He nodded to the soldier, quite a compliment coming from such an evil man as Dark. The Squirrel handed over his M4, whispering something into the Panther's ear. Nobody heard it but Dark. A smile formed on his face. He nodded to the soldier again.
A bullet whizzed past his head. He didn't even flinch. It struck the wall behind him, embedding itself there. He set his eyes on the one who shot at him. Dark knelt, pulling up his aim. He pulled the trigger four times. Four bursts emitted from the rifle's muzzle. Dark watched as the bullets slammed into his foe's skull, blowing half of it off. A greenish blood flew up into the air. A grin materialized on Dark's face as he looked back at the others.

Sarge was signalling to the Platoon, now a formidable force assembled in the Agency halls.
It wasn't really difficult to convey the message.
He pointed to the right. He made shooting motions with his hands. The he extended the middle finger on his right paw skywards.

Go right, shooting and the bastards...

They turned the corner and the battle to defend their turf began...
Dark made his way down the corridor. He made it to the end and looked to his left. Nothing. He then looked around the right corner. A bullet whizzed past his head, skimming his left cheek. He pulled back around the corner, hearing a few more bullets slam into the wall. Growling, he stepped out around the corner. He had expected a hall full of Tediz. He found himself facing one. He grinned. The Tediz fired at him. The bullet caught the Panther in the shoulder. Blood flowed down Dark's vest, seeping down onto the floor. He was angry now. He pulled up his aim. He switched the rifle to fully automatic.

The Tediz yelped as the bullets tore through his body. The sharp pain. It was unbearable. His corpse fell to the ground in a heap. It was a mess of stuffing, green, oozing blood, and an outer coating, which was their flesh. Dark walked over to it and spit in it. He then continued down the hall, throwing the spent rifle to the side. As he ran, he unsheathed his long, silver blade. It shimmered in the light. He grinned. Time to have some serious fun.