(25/10/2056 | 10:15)

The next day, Hsu once again found himself in the communications room, having been yanked away from his feeds yet again at Kalina's alert.

It wasn't a crippling issue. The other Commanders present didn't seem to hold the same hostility as they had prior. Or at least, they weren't showing it as far as he could tell. Stepping away, letting them get hands-on experience, was useful. For them, it gave them seat time commanding forces when the chips were down. For him, it made the underlying flaws of each bubble to the surface one way or another. Things to be improved upon once the time was right.

At the moment, he stood across from the holographic projection of a Soviet Air Force officer. Clean cut, pressed uniform, recently shaved and looking fresh off of a propaganda reel. He was young for his station, about the same age as Hsu. But he'd likely climbed the ranks the same way he had; by being the last man standing.

"While I appreciate your reaching out, Colonel Kutuzov, the timing could have been better." Hsu explained, shuffling through a set of recently transferred documents. "Normally I like to know about air support before I begin planning an op, not while it's happening."

The Colonel shrugged, unperturbed by the mercenary's frustration or any inconvenience that may have fallen upon him. If anything it seemed to amuse him, seeing this scarred westerner squirm.

"A simple communication error, Commander. One which we are rectifying now." The officer assured in the least assuring way possible. "Besides, with how far Griffin has allowed these marauders to advance, some would think you would appreciate the assistance."

Hsu bit his tongue as an insult came to bare, opting to instead maintain a diplomatically neutral demeanor. No one ever liked to be told they had to be grateful, but he took it for what it was. The officer was telling Hsu that he didn't give a damn what he thought, and he wasn't asking for permission.

Not like he could deny the 'help' if he wanted too.

So, the Commander bobbed his head. He remained quiet as the Soviet regaled him about the pristine status of his air regiment's fleet, and how they could 'single handedly deal with Sangvis themselves, if he so desired.' It was chest-thumping to the extreme, to the point that the Canadian couldn't tell where the state mandated propaganda stopped and the man's ever enlarging ego started.

He knew one thing, it was mostly a crock. No country had an air force worth a damn after the war, all their pilots with flight time in the double digits were dead. But that also meant he had no idea what to really expect, seeing as he doubted this was simply a call to intimidate.

When the Colonel finally quieted down, Hsu offered the usual pleasantries. He once again 'thanked' the man for 'generously' providing them with assistance. He laid out their plans openly, along with the intended timetable for the advance. He even offered the AR team as forward observers, though that was quickly shot down due to the Co'inability for dolls to sufficiently guide a military strike.'

It amazed him at how poorly the Soviet military seemed to view the intelligence of tactical dolls. Then again, considering their doctrine, it wasn't surprising in the slightest how little faith they had.

So when the call cut, he waited a few seconds, checking his watch before glancing over his shoulder at the beeping red light of the other receiver.

"Connection's terminated, you can stop hiding." Hsu informed. The light then turned green, another holographic projector beaming on the show Helian standing with a furrowed brow.

"Man's a bigger blowhard than an Englishman at a pub." The Sub-Director said, thoroughly unimpressed by the grandstanding. She then pulled a binder out from under her arm, flipping it open and reading the information.

"His wing is based out of Volgograd. One of two left in the entire Soviet Union that's at full strength." She began.

Hsu nodded, walking over to stand in front of the battlemap that he'd been explaining to the Colonel. "So he wasn't exaggerating after all."

"Unfortunately, no." Helian assured, moving to stand next to her subordinate as she flipped to the next page. "But the whole unit is green. Most of the pilots only recently graduated flight school, and he was promoted last month."

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"He's being an opportunist to advance his own career." Helian decided, earning an agreeing nod from the Commander. "So, general thoughts?"

"Cas is an infantry officer's wet dream."

"Actual thoughts?"

"Moron's about as likely to bomb us as he is Sangvis." Hsu spat, getting an amused smirk from his superior. "Can you get him to piss off?"

"If he was in Saint Petersburg or Moscow? Yes. But Volgograd…" Helian said, closing her information pamphlet. "The Southern Districts are effectively Military Provinces. If it was an Army officer or a KCCO detachment, maybe. But the Air Force only listens to the General Secretary and the Presidium."

"Can't believe I'd ever be in a situation when I'd want the military to listen to a private business."

"Sounding more and more like a mercenary every day." She observed jovially, laughing as Hsu physically shuddered. "I'll see what can be done, but I make no promises."

With those words, her projection flickered away. Hsu was left alone, thinking about how to adapt to this new information. The Colonel hadn't told him when the airstrikes would be available. He hadn't told him what kind of support it would be. He hadn't even told him how many flights would be tasked. All that had been transmitted was a simple 'we're aware and we will show up.' Under other circumstances, he'd take that as a sign of the exact opposite. But being hailed directly made him ponder otherwise.

As he left the room, the issue still floated in his mind. But for now, he had active issues to worry about.


(10:31)

To SVD, collapse radiation was the source of all suffering in today's world. Or at least, all of the suffering in Ukraine.

The spread of the radiation was what had destroyed nations. It's what had pushed the ones that survived to gobble up, annex and colonize those who couldn't resist. It was what drove people from their homes, tore about lives and histories. Without the collapse, perhaps the Soviet Union wouldn't have moved east. Perhaps all of her nation would still be well inhabited, not just the land around the Dnieper.

So many possibilities. So many lost hopes…

…Needless to say, when her team came across the phenomenon, her mood significantly worsened. But what else was present confused her more than anything.

Griffin and Sangvis bodies, strewn across the rocks. A squadron that had disappeared from the radar twenty minutes ago. Both the mainframes and their dummies, all dispatched and left splayed in the grass. Her team had been sent here to perform a basic battle damage assessment, searching for a survivor who had called for rescue. But upon their arrival they noticed two things. The first was a notable presence of collapse radiation.

The second was that the survivor was gone. One mainframe, PP-90's, was missing. Her dummies all lay dead, but she was not among her fallen comrades.

As the rest of her team carried out amateur autopsies, she spoke over communications with her Commander. A man who she wasn't quite sure where she stood on yet, despite her now multi-month tenure in Sector 09. He gave the dolls under his eye a level of independence that was unique, even under Griffin. But he also avoided interaction with dolls like the plague, something that was more common among Commanders.

This conversation had gone as all of theirs had gone. Business-like, with little emotion between either participant. Despite her best efforts to prod the man.

"How high is the concentration of radiation?" Hsu asked.

"Not high at all. Low enough that I understand how the surveyors missed it." SVD reported, watching as Mosin put a round in the back of a wounded Jaeger's head. "Hotspots like this are common this far into the badlands. How familiar are you with collapse radiation?"

"Too familiar. I was deployed as part of the peacekeeping force in China when the war was over." The Commander informed.

SVD laughed, not finding the operation to be anything worth admitting association with. "Ah, yes. The United Nations' final failure. It amazed me how you all somehow managed to make the situation even worse."

"Seeing as there were only thirteen countries left, we were limited in what we could do."

"I am sure that gave the refugees great comfort in those hovels you called camps." The Soviet team leader said, passing Saiga as the shotgunner was stripping a vespid for an internal autopsy.

"Point is, I'm familiar with the topic." Hsu deflected, the voice on the other end deflecting away from the subject. "Any anomalous activity? Mutated flora or fauna?"

"Nothing, but with this concentration, one could assume some level of mutation nearby."

"I take viscon before I take assumptions. But you're right."

SVD stopped her advance, looking around the area with muted disappointment. It amazed her how even after she'd survived twenty years, being put in updated chassis after updated chassis, seen civil wars and world wars, she was still doing this song and dance. Why they hadn't retired her was a bit of an anomaly. Why Griffin took her on was even more of one.

At least time made all of this far, far easier to deal with.

"Going quiet on me, SVD." The Commander intoned, much to the amusement of the Captain.

"Just pondering our situation. Wondering what the central government did to muck this all up."

"Knowing won't make the problem go away." Hsu pointed out. "Besides, we're here because the Soviet government wants the situation fixed."

SVD grumbled, her gaze falling upon the three Russian dolls as they all picked apart the remnants of a striker. Mosin in particular was fascinated with the minigun, spinning the barrels and posing with it like an action movie star. A-545 and AK-74M watched her with muted disapproval, neither seeming pleased at how laid back their teammate was being with evidence.

"It's not easy. Ignoring the resentment." Hsu commented.

SVD scoffed. "You presume they resent me, Sir?"

"I know you resent them." Hsu clarified, waiting for SVD to provide a protest. When she did no such thing, he continued. "Every time I see you on base, you're with anyone but them. Your mission briefings are dictations more than informative. And then there's the matter of who you chose as your Lieutenant."

"Saiga is as capable a co-leader as they come."

"And the fact that she's not Russian had no impact on the decision whatsoever." Hsu said, sarcasm so dense you could chip it off with an ice pick.

SVD grimaced, the sniper beginning to seethe that she had been so blatantly called out. The worst part of it being that, out of anyone in the Sector, Hsu was the only person qualified to call her out. But still, it frustrated her. Enough that she paid no attention to the other voice calling her name a few paces back.

"Take it from one remnant of a dead country to another. If you hang on for too long, eventually everything you miss is just going to turn into stuff that makes you mad." The man told her, shifting topics before she could muster up any reprisal. "Find whoever took out these dolls. Make sure it can't interfere with the advance."

With that, the call died. SVD spat out a curse at the inability to get anything in edgewise. So focused on the snub that she only noticed her newly arrived company when she received a nudge in the arm. Saiga hovered close, retracting her ballistic shield.

"Did you just prod me with your armor?" SVD asked.

"I already have to take a shower when we return to base." The shotgunner answered.

SVD grumbled. To others, such an act would be a blatant insult. To those who knew Saiga, they knew it was because of her complete and total OCD. Whereas Echelon Two's lieutenant was the base's renown germaphobe, the tanned Soviet took cleanliness and order to it's illogical extremes. Within the confines of their team's dormitory, Saiga's section resembled a five star hotel room while everyone else's looked normal and lived in.

So, SVD took it on the chin. "What did you find?"

"The radiation is not from here." She answered. "Mosin found many tracks leading to the north."

"Humanoid?"

"Da. Either Sangvis, our survivor, or the unknown party. Perhaps a mix."

SVD nodded, the information bringing some relief. "We have something, then. Good."

The Captain then brought two fingers up to her mouth, firing off a sharp whistle to get the trio's attention. It was time to find out what exactly was going on.


(11:24)

Almost an hour later, and they were still on the trail.

The five dolls found themselves walking along what had once, in theory, been a roadway. Dirt packed hard by years upon years of trucks and tractors, flanked by rolling hills, bushes and withered sunflower stalks. The path was wide, enough that they walked side by side. SVD in the center, A-545 to her left, Saiga to her right. Mosin and AK-74M took their respective flanks, in theory keeping out for surprises.

In actuality, the formation was subjected to what Mosin, A-545 and Saiga called small talk. Much to the boredom of AK-74 and the quiet bemusement of SVD.

"What kind of self respecting Russian drinks Dutch Vodka?!" A-545 demanded.

"The kind that has a refined pallet." Mosin replied, confident in her preferences. Confidence that only perturbed the youngest doll even more.

"You must be joking." A-545 said, finding the concept itself absurd. "How much does it cost to even import that crap?"

"We make a good salary!" Mosin insisted, dodging the request to name a price.

"And you're blowing it on western decadence!"

"Comrade Bukharin made it clear in his writings that all true workers of the revolution believe in Internationalism."

"Bukharin was a revisionist and a bourgeois sockpuppet!"

Saiga, meanwhile, groaned in defeat. "Can both of you please stop turning vodka into a political debate?"

"You also confused Trotsky for Bukharin." SVD interjected.

"Fah." Mosin said, giving the line to her right a dismissive wave. "Fine, fine. What about you, Comrade Lieutenant?"

"I do not drink." Saiga answered.

Mosin recoiled, stunned that one could even utter such a cursed phrase. "How can you be a Soviet doll and not drink?!"

"My model was built for the central Asian republics." The shotgunner answered.

"She's from Kazakhstan, remember?" SVD followed up.

"So what? Seven-Four is from Vladivostok!" The riflewoman declared, ignorant as to why the region would be a dry area.

"I am beginning to get offended." Saiga informed the doll plainly, something that urged A-545 to advance out of the formation in an effort to avoid any further tomfoolery. Mosin muttered something about the shotgunner having 'thin skin,' meanwhile AK-74M shuffled further to the right for the sake of her audio sensors.

Demotivated by the presence of someone perpetually sober, Mosin instead opted to focus on their surroundings. Surroundings that seemed to get more and more abnormal as time went on. The overgrowth became more wild, the tint of the flora became darker, even the earth itself seemed to be morphed from the usual brown to a near purple.

"And now things get interesting…" Mosin said aloud as she hopped over a bubbling puddle of green goo.

"What is all of this?" AK-74M asked, never having been exposed to such an environment before.

"What happens when collapse radiation festers." SVD explained. "Though how the surveyors missed this is beyond me."

"Underpaid Government salarymen slack off all the time." Saiga answered, bringing her shotgun up to a low ready as she began to sense danger.

SVD chuckled, finding their situation rather amusing. Until she saw A-545 wandering up ahead.

And what she was wandering into.

"Five-Four-Five, STOP!" SVD yelled. The KCCO liaison halted in her tracks, instinctively bringing her gun up to aim at whatever her Captain was calling it. But try as she might, nothing was visible. Simply a long, winding dirt path through an abandoned blackened wheat field.

SVD went forwards, hand slipping under her vest, The rest of the team came up as well, setting up along the flanks. A-545 watched with interest as SVD pulled a rusted bolt out from under her cape, holding it between her fingers.

"What are you doing?" A-545 demanded, growing frustrated at the bizarre action.

"Watch and learn, cub." The sniper promised, before giving the bolt an underhanded toss towards the path in front of them. As it flew, a barely visible bubble formed, exploding outwards with a flash of force and light.

The newcomer flinched from the newfound stimuli, while SVD simply squinted and reached up, catching the bolt that had been flung back towards here. She watched, unimpressed as the bubble proceeded to disperse, its latent energy triggered.

"Collapse anomaly. Common in areas that experience high concentrations of collapse radiation." The Captain explained, slipping the bolt back under her uniform. "We call these ones 'Springboards.' Bubbles of suspended kinetic energy."

A-545 blinked a few times, her vision returning fully to see that the bubble had disappeared from view just as soon as it had come.

"How did you…?" She asked incredulously.

"You've been online for ten months. I've been online for twenty years. This plague has scarred Ukraine for even longer." SVD answered bluntly, before calling over her shoulder. "Saiga, Mosin, Seventy-Four. Column behind me."

"Should we report this to the Commander?" Saiga asked, forming up behind her leader as instructed.

SVD shook her head, motioning for A-545 to do the same as the others. "Not until we find whatever killed those Sangvis dolls before us."

Saiga hummed in understanding, waiting for SVD to take the first step before following. Once the Captain moved forwards, each of the other Soviet dolls followed suit, stepping where she stepped to avoid any more unwanted approaches by the unnatural formations.

AK-74M looked to her left and right. Now that she knew what to look for, more of the unnatural land mines seemed to pop up. Growing more and more in number and density the further they pressed.

"SVD, it may be wise for us to cut our losses." AK-74M suggested. Something that made SVD cackle.

"Finally losing your nerve on me, Seven-Four? Suppose that your old programming is rearing its head." The sniper asked. Mosin snorted, throwing a mocking grin to the completely unamused AK wielder.

Though such a comment prompted the youngest of the five to speak up.

"So… all of you were civilian dolls before the war?" A-545 asked, rigidly keeping the formation as she was sandwiched in the center.

"Indeed. We were all given the privilege to fight and die for the glory of the Motherland." Mosin said sardonically. "Over, and over, and over…"

"You and Saiga were the only dolls purpose built for combat." SVD quipped. "Though in Saiga's case, her purpose was more for shooting terrorists and rebels than actual soldiers."

The shotgunner shrugged apathetically, adjusting her pace to keep up with SVD as the leader of the formation began to increase her speed. Mosin stopped, picking a pebble up off of the ground as she held the rear of the line.

"A long time ago, I used to be a train engineer. My line would go back and forth across the Trans-Siberian railway, connecting the west to the east." The blonde reminisced, looking about to find a row of murderous bubbles before tossing the rock at a target. The hit the first, then bounced over to a second, then a third, before falling to the ground. Each bubble popping released another flash of light and burst of air.

A-545 grimaced at the impulses of light, but made no comment as the doll played with fire. Instead, she looked behind her to 74M. "And you?"

"Tax collector." AK-74M answered, not adding anymore beyond that. A-545 waited for more details, but when none came, she frowned and faced forwards again.

"That leaves you, Captain." The KCCO doll asked. Something that got Mosin to laugh aloud again as she returned to the formation.

"Good luck getting it out of her. No one knows what SVD did before the war began." Mosin mocked, leaning to her left to call out to the front. "What was the rumor in the last sector we were in? KGB interrogator?"

"Interrogator, assassin, pole dancer…" SVD listed off blithely.

"Pole dancer? Excuse me?" A-545 asked.

"Rumors tend to be idiotic." SVD answered, before holding a finger to her mouth. "Now quiet down, all of you. We still have a distance to travel."

The line silenced itself, following their leader's directive. Quietly, the four dolls followed her lead as she navigated them further and further away from the battle line. Still trying to follow the tracks that had been left by the mob of whomever had attacked their allies. Like a group of bears on a hunt.


(13:44)

Two hours later, the team took shelter on a small abandoned farmstead. They had cleared the radiation zone, the landscape and environment returning to the normal wartorn hovel one would expect. Which was enough of a sign to them that they could take a break, consume some of the rations they had packed and recharge their battery power.

SVD had remained outside, contacting the FOB to inform the Commander of their progress. The rest of the team rested inside a barn, sitting in a circle around a makeshift fire pit. Mosin hovered above a set of planks, scraping her bayonet against her rifle's cleaning rod as she tried to spark a fire. The blond insisted that the MREs would taste better if heated, which was enough to get the other three to wait.

A-545, however, was starting to reach the end of her rope. She stood up, glaring at the door before beginning to march towards it.

"Guess I'm eating your ration." Saiga said. A-545 turned back around, fuming as she saw the darker skinned doll pick up the package and tear it open.

Finding a new target for her frustrations, she stomped back over towards the trio.

"This is pointless. Why are we still following a bunch of random tracks?!" The twin tailed doll interrogated. "For all we know whatever left them is dead!"

"Our orders remain the same. We do as instructed." Saiga explained, breaking the gray powerbar in half and biting down on one end.

"These orders are idiotic! That western slovach just wants to get us killed! Why else would he send the only team full of Soviets on a goose chase like this!?" A-545 insisted.

Saiga rolled her eyes, taking another bite of the ration bar and washing it down with her canteen. A-545 fumed, looking to the two other Russians to try and back her up.

Mosin looked up from her pet project, thinking for a few moments before looking at Saiga. "She has a point. We've been going for a while now."

"Indeed." AK-74M said, keeping her package unmolested as Mosin returned to trying to spark the firewood back alive. Saiga looked up to see A-545 with a malicious, smug grin plastered on her face.

The Kazhak sighed, setting her food down and waving A-545 off. "Let's talk with SVD, then."

Now having backing to her protests, A-545 turned around and beelined for the door once again. She stepped outside, looking around to try and find where their Captain was. Ten minutes ago she had been here, taking over the radio. Now…

…She was sitting on the porch of the old farm house. In a plastic chair that somehow had not disintegrated after years of neglect.

Honing in on her target, she jogged over. SVD cocked a brow as the young doll approached, curious as she stayed at the bottom of the steps and glared upwards.

"Comrade Captain. I and the rest of the team have conferred-." A-545 began, getting ready for a full fledged debate with the old doll.

"I heard." SVD muttered, tapping her ear. "Saiga turned her comm-link on."

The reveal took some wind out of A-545's sails. Her verbal stumble prompting a pleased smirk from Saiga. But still, she carried on.

"So you know that we all feel as though this mission is a fool's errand." A-545 said.

"Indeed." The sniper answered.

"Does that mean you will withdraw us?" The Russian asked. It was a formality, at this point. There was no logical reason for her to refuse.

SVD clicked her tongue. "I will not."

The wrong answer. One that prompted A-545 to drop all pretenses of respect and professionalism onto the floor.

"You cannot be serious. Are you delusional, or simply stupid?!" The KCCO doll demanded.

"Neither. I 'simply' intend to see this mission through." SVD replied, tone level and calm.

"This is not a mission, it is merely a flight of fancy because that brain dead American wants us dead or out of the way!"

SVD opted to not correct the girl's error, instead looking to see how Saiga took this information. Her Lieutenant nodded once, signaling that she was still on SVD's side. Like she always was.

"We keep going." SVD confirmed, despite the expression of furious resentment that the blonde dolls wore.

"Good, I can finish eating now." Saiga said, turning on a heel and walking back towards the barn. SVD returned to resting in her chair, looking out to the horizon like an old woman on her porch.

"I refuse." A-545 declared. Words that made Saiga stop in place, turning her head to glance back at the petulant girl.

"What was that?" Saiga asked, voice tighting ever so slightly. A sign that SVD took that meant A-545 was now in mortal peril.

"I refuse to follow a directive this frivolous." A-545 insisted, oblivious to the threat on her life that was now creeping back over.

"She's lost her nerve." SVD said dismissively, more to Saiga than anyone. But she of all people knew it was too late, both of the other dolls were already set on the next path.

"And you have lost your mind! What do you think we are going to accomplish here? Marching until our batteries drain completely?!" A-545 raged. It was then that Saiga's claw dug into her shoulder, spinning her around. The shotgunner's radioactive yellow eyes were alight, focusing solely on nothing but the insubordinate doll.

"The Captain gave you an order." Saiga insisted, words pointed like spearheads. But A-545 was just as adamant, ripping her hand off and stepping back.

"Fuck her, fuck you, and fuck your worthless mercenary Commander!" The Russian roared. "I am here as an observer for the KCCO and the Soviet Government. I answer to none of you!"

"You are part of this echelon, and you will follow the chain of command." Saiga pressed, unperturbed by the yelling. A dozen more jeers, curses and insults built up in A-545's throat, but she saw it would do nothing. Saiga would not defect from her leader's word, and her leader still gave no sign that she was going to bend.

"...I'm done with this." A-545 spat, turning on a heel and marching off towards the perimeter of the farm. Or at least, she tried to. The android didn't get far before she heard the sound of a hammer being pulled back, turning to see that Saiga had withdrawn a Gratch pistol from behind her shield.

"Stand down." The Lieutenant ordered, not aiming the weapon quite yet. She held it at her side, muzzle directed to the ground.

A-545 spun, not taking the same courtesy. She lifted her own rifle, irons landing squarely on Saiga's head. Finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger.

"Enough!" SVD declared, stepping down from the poach and placing herself between the two feuding dolls. A-545 growled, lowering her rifle. Saiga remained still, backup weapon by her side.

SVD turned her back on her lieutenant, stepping over to the deserting doll. A doll she was taller than, a doll she was older than, a doll she was probably a better fighter than. If she wasn't limited by the confines of her own mechanics. This Russian doll had been a pain in her neck since she got here. Part of her wished that she had let Saiga shoot her in the back.

But it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted the runt to listen, for once.

"You asked what I did before the war." SVD began. "Everyone does. It is a needless mystery, they care simply because they do not know and I do not talk about such things."

"That is irrelevant to my protests against continuing this mission!" A-545 said.

"It is extremely relevant." SVD insisted, biting down her frustration. The girl was naive and ignorant, neither was her fault. "You still do not understand. As dolls, no matter how much we are modified, we are still tethered to our core programming. Everyone, everyone on this team still carries that."

"So your old programming is why you insist on this suicide mission?" A-545 asked, mocking the idea. "Fine. What was your duty before the war, then?"

"SVD, you owe this welp nothing-." Saiga began, quieting down when SVD lifted her hand.

"I'm her Captain, I owe her a chance." SVD insisted, glaring back at Saiga. "We never gave her that. We almost did not give Mosin or Seventy-Four one either."

Saiga's grimace remained, but her eyes dimmed. The shotgunner stowed her pistol, offering no more resistance as SVD turned back around.

"I was part of Kyiv's Fire Brigade. A firefighting doll." The sniper explained. "My job was to find people and pull them out of places no human could survive. It felt like every week, there was a new fire in the factories. And I was the one who went in, every time. Dragging them out one by one, saving their lives."

A short pause, SVD stopping to let A-545 voice any more quips. But the younger doll remained quiet, staring up at her senior and listening for the first time since they had met.

"I haven't saved a life… in ten years. All I've done is kill things. Humans, dolls, ELID mutants. Kill, kill, kill. Over and over again." SVD explained. "I am sick of it. For once, I want to save someone again."

That last sentence finally made it all click. All the tracking, all the caution, moving so fast despite the treacherous terrain.

"...You think the doll who activated her panic alarm is still alive." A-545 said, laying it out plainly. She then leaned to her right, looking to the third doll present. "And you knew this was why?"

Saiga shook her head. "SVD is my friend. It never mattered why."

A-545 rolled her eyes, still not believing that Saiga's loyalty was that iron-clad. "I still think this is a fool's errand."

"Are you coming or not?" SVD interrogated, her patience now having worn dry.

A-545 still looked displeased, but nodded. At least now she knew they weren't hunting because her leader was kill crazy. And despite it all, she did believe in the idea of 'no man left behind.' As long as there was a man to find.

"I will trust your judgment… 'Captain.'"


(14:27)

PP-90 had lost track of time and space at this point.

The last thing she remembered was the ambush. Pink and purple tracers flying around. Cutting down the rest off her team and all of their dummy links. She'd been hit, the damage had been enough to take her straight into isolation mode. The firefight hadn't ended, there was… a chance that the others had survived.

But they weren't here, in this room where she woke up. The fact that her injuries were still present was proof that she wasn't stuck in level two consciousness, nor had she succumbed to the wound and been reactivated at the FOB. Someone had put her here.

It frightened her. All of this did.

Ever since Commander Bateer had made her his adjutant, she'd been psyching herself up for this mission. The first real combat job. No more menial tasks, guard duty or logistics. Actual, full on firefights with Sangvis. The first day had gone so well, too. Her team had been totally unscathed, meeting all of their objectives.

But now… she had no idea what to do. She couldn't stand, the hole in her side made her petite body unable to stay balanced. All she could do was sit, and wait. Wait for whatever came for her.

That was until the gunfire began.

At first she thought it was simply wishful thinking. Her imagination that a rescue had come. But then the sounds got louder, and closer. Conventional weapons, nothing like what Sangvis used.

So, she started smashing herself against the door. Again, and again, until it finally toppled over, and she rolled out into a hallway. Light shined once again, and she could see wallpaper peeling off. A lamp with yellowed glass hanging from the roof, and the sun beaming out from a window.

A series of bullets then ripped out from below her, causing PP-90 to tumble over. Below, on what she gathered was the first floor of this residence, yelling could be heard as assault rifle rounds and shotgun blasts rang out in total chaos. Voices barked out orders and information at a rate that fried her circuits, but they sounded as if they knew what they were doing.

As PP-90 turned around, she spotted the top of some handrails. Stairs heading down. Another series of buckshot rang out, before a Sangvis ripper's body flew up and smashed into the wall. PP-90 went wide eyed at the carcass, squeaking at such a violent display.

"Are we clear, Seven Four?" A stern voice called.

"Kitchen clear, Saiga." Another replied. "Five-Four-Five, how's the dining room?"

Another burst of shots rang out on the first floor.

"Contacts neutralized." The final voice answered. Gunfire raged outside for a minute longer, before that too stopped.

"SVD and Mosin say the perimeter is clear! Stack up on me, I found stairs!" Saiga ordered from below. Stomping footsteps could be heard as the trio moved into formation below, the sound of magazines being switched out and bolts being cycled echoing up the steps.

"I'm… I'm here! I'm in the hallway!" PP-90 managed to say, trying and failing to pull herself up onto her feet.

"Stay put, we're coming!" Saiga shouted back up, clunks coming up the stair steps before the three of them appeared. A-545 blew past, moving to clear the far side of the hallway. AK-74M did the same for the rooms closer to the stairs. Saiga approached PP-90, going on a knee and spotting the hole where the SMG doll's right hip should have been.

"...We have a helicopter coming." Saiga assured, moving her ballistic shield to help the young doll up on her feet properly. "Let's get you downstairs, there is a big chair in the living room."

PP-90 nodded, muttering a grateful thank-you as she hung onto the shield and walked with Saiga. Both dolls crept down the stairs, slowly to make sure that the injured party didn't fall and injure themselves further.

SVD and Mosin stood in the doorway, speaking to one another until they spotted Saiga and their rescue coming down the steps. The two rifle dolls traded a few more words, before Mosin stepped back outside.

PP-90 sat down in the aforementioned big chair, in front of a grand stone fireplace that hadn't seen use in no one knew how long. Another hit of pain came and went, but she still focused on SVD.

"You… you're one of Sector Nine's Captains." PP-90 recalled, having seen the other team leaders in the large briefing before the operation began.

SVD flashed her pearly whites, proud of her status being recognized. "Glad to see my reputation precedes me."

PP-90 smiled, letting herself relax now that safety finally seemed to return. "Spasiba… thank you."

"The helicopter will be here in thirteen minutes. Rest." Saiga instructed, before looping around the chair. SVD followed the lieutenant, looking out over the yard filled with recently shot Sangvis drones.

"Not bad work for a rescue mission." SVD chimed, her grin growing. "And people wonder why I'm an elite doll."

Saiga grunted, spotting Mosin as the blonde climbed atop the tin roof of the watershed and fixed a green flare against a pole. The device ignited, giving a visual marker for the helicopter's LZ.

"What are we going to do about Five-Four-Five?" The shotgunner asked. In the back of her mind, their confrontation still cycled on repeat. She wasn't sure if the KCCO doll would actually shoot her, or was calling her bluff.

SVD shrugged, nonplused over the whole affair. "I didn't tell the Commander what happened."

That was enough to answer. Saiga's face soured, seeing that her leader seemed to have decided to adopt the loud doll. But the choice wasn't her's to make. SVD saw something in the brat, though Saiga didn't know what.

In the end, it didn't really bother her anyway. It was just another mission, done and shelved for the next one.


A/N: INTERPOL team's coming up next. Arc is almost halfway done.