(25/10/2056 | 13:09)

"Our eyes have to be on the fritz." MCX postulated, squinting off into the distance.

"All five of us?" VSK asked, unsure if her British teammate was joking.

"Sangvis interference, perhaps." MP-448 rationalized, looking over her shoulder.

"That's ridiculous. There's no way we're all experiencing the exact same malfunction." M590 assured, glancing over to the team Captain. "Right Grizz. Grizz?"

Grizzly remained silent, looking through her pair of binoculars at what had drawn all of their attention. They had been sent to investigate a bunker complex nestled near the river, Hsu wanting to confirm that the area was still abandoned. After the operation to rescue AR-15, he wanted to take no more chances with how resourceful these ringleaders could get.

The issue was that when they arrived, it wasn't Sangvis guarding the entrance.

It was humans.

Barricades of sticks and scrap-metal had been erected at the mouth of the tunnel's entrance. At least six men, each of them wearing civilian clothing and clutching an assortment of various different weapons, kept watch. Most had scars over their eastern features, but nothing that came from combat. Radiation scars, traces of disease and survival.

Grizzly lowered her binoculars, silently pondering the situation before her team before lifting a hand and waving them on. "Let's find out what the hell they're doing here."

The five dolls formed a wedge, advancing towards the settlement's ramshackle wall. Each of them kept their weapons down, not wanting to alarm whoever was watching them approach. Their clothes were already a rather large sign that they weren't affiliated with Sangvis, but a bunch of armed robots in brightly colored outfits would still be enough to spook most guards.

Which explained why a burst of rifle fire slapped the ground in front of them.

Grizzly ordered the team to halt, alerts popping in her HUD. Yet her weapon became heavy, core programming not giving her or any of her team a chance to even lift their weapons in defiance. With their position, such an act would be suicidal anyway. There was no cover to be found.

Three of the armed men stepped forwards, weapons up and aimed straight at them. One began barking orders in a low, gruff tone. One that didn't register to Grizzly in the slightest. She looked to her left, VSK being the closest Soviet, but even she was still puzzled.

"They aren't speaking Russian. I cannot understand them." VSK said, going stiff as the mob advanced closer.

"Then what are they speaking?" Grizzly said, nerve holding firm despite the seemingly hostile farmers.

"Not Russian." MCX offered.

"Not helping." MP-448 replied.

"Who said I was tryin' to?" MCX said, before taking a smack upside the head from M590's palm. "Ow!"

"For a doll who used to be a Counter-Terror operator, you talk a great deal." MP-448 commented, taking MCX's attention off of her assaulter and onto the small Russian.

"Bugger off, you glorified crossing guard." The Brit hissed.

"Both of you, shut up." Grizzly demanded.

As the men approached, the volume of the man yelling commands only grew. Eventually, one of them lifted his rifle, firing a burst right above MP-448's head. The shorter doll flinched, but still did nothing.

Seeing that they were running out of time, Grizzly moved to holster her handgun.

"Sling your weapons. VSK, see if any of them speak Russian." Grizzly ordered.

"We are so gonna die…" M590 muttered, slipping her shotgun over her shoulder. The rest did the same, with VSK attempting to try and communicate with the gunmen. All the while, Grizzly sent a silent alert to the Commander, activating an audio stream to tune him into what was happening.

After a few moments of listening, the old man's voice rang through her ears.

"Grizzly, repeat everything that I'm about to say out loud."


(13:46)

Half an hour later, the dolls found themselves plunged below.

The Commander had managed to talk the band of gunmen down, negotiating their entrance into the bunker complex. There they had met with a lithe, ancient woman, draped in a dark red shawl and draped in scarfs. That was when Hsu finally made himself known, projecting his form out of Grizzly's ocular node similarly to how G36 had done for Helian. He spoke at length with the woman, the two figures going back and forth at length about a number of topics.

In the meantime, the rest of the dolls walked the complex. It was sprawling, larger than the maps had let on. MCX had found a diagram revealing three more entrances that lead to the surface, one resting in each cardinal direction.

But within the system itself, dozens and dozens of other humans were huddled in rooms that they had claimed as their own. Each wore ratted, worn clothes made of thick fabric. The vast majority had pock-marked bodies, radiation scars that were etched deep. The few that didn't were the children, filled with wonder and awe as the strange androids walked past them.

VSK looked back at the youngest of them, face terse with pain at their predicament.

"The oldest is five at most." She ruminated as she walked alongside MCX and M590.

"Some of them might have been born down here." M590 inferred, keeping her eyes forwards. She had her shotgun in hand once more, but took great care to keep the muzzle aimed towards the ground.

"How did they even survive this long?" MCX asked. "This is the badlands. Sangvis has had control of this area for years."

"Probably avoided poking the hornet's nest. Easy to hide if no one's looking for you." M590 postulated.

"Which means we're the reason they're at risk, now." VSK pointed out.

A sigh left M590, but she nodded. "Lots of people refused the evacuation order. Most of them didn't live long. I guess the Soviet figured anyone this deep in Sangvis controlled territory would be worm food."

"I wonder how they managed for food themselves."

"Hunting. Animals're still roaming out here." M590 inferred further. "Dunno if they'd be able to make any of their local stuff, wherever these people are from."

"Could be worse. Could be trapped with nothing but cheeseburgers." MCX joked. M590 rolled her eyes, not biting at the low-hanging fruit.

"American food is strange. There is that sandwich you call a… 'hot dog'?" VSK said, drawing the ire of M590. The shotgunner tensed up, eyes locking onto VSK's face like a heat seeking missile.

"Excuse me?" M590 asked, voice tight and squeaky compared to her usual lower pitch.

VSK tilted her head, unsure as to why the woman was so perturbed. "You eat hot dogs, yes?"

"No no, go back." M590 requested, tone still compressed. "What did you call it?"

"A sandwich. MCX told me it was a sandwich." The Russian said innocently, looking over M590's shoulder to the android in question. Slowly, M590's head twisted around to glare over at the British T-Doll, fingers digging into the milled steel of her weapon.

Realizing her joke was about to backfire, MCX leapt to her own defense.

"Technically it's between two pieces of bread-." MCX began, but was cut off by M590's racking a fresh slug into the chamber. "Alright, alright! Jesus!"

"If you're all done measuring hot dogs, I need you to get over to my position." Grizzly spoke over the radio. M590 grumbled at the directive, but felt as though her pride as an American doll had been adequately defended. Without further words, or further threats, the trio left to go find their leader.

Grizzly stood in an empty bunkroom, MP-448 alongside her along with a to-scale holographic projection of Hsu. The T-dolls formed a semi-circle around the man, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"They're refugees. Walked all the way here from Chongqing." Hsu relayed. "Been in this bunker for the past three years, hiding."

"That's… central China." VSK said. "They must have been marching for-"

"Six months. They left with a little over two-hundred people. There's sixty left." The Commander informed the group.

A cold silence hung over the dolls. Each of them shared an uncomfortable gaze, not believing what kind of mess they had stumbled themselves into. From a simple scouting mission to this of all things.

"We need to get them out of here." MP-448 told the group.

"Getting a convoy of trucks to your position would take hours, and the amount of attention it'd draw would make it the biggest target on the front." Hsu said.

"What about the Blackhawks?" Grizzly asked.

"They seat eleven. Even if we used all of our birds at once, it wouldn't be enough." The Commander continued.

MCX frowned at the man, seeing what he was getting at. "So, what. We're leaving'em here?"

All five pairs of eyes honed in on the Commander. None of them seemed pleased with the idea of leaving the bunker. M590 and VSK in particular looked outright repulsed.

But that didn't change anything. Hsu held his ground.

"We're in the middle of a massive military offensive. Every resource we dedicate to this is one less we have for the reason we're here." He told the dolls, focusing on Grizzly in particular. "Your team hasn't even finished scouting this section. This whole sector is a dark area."

"Thompson and IWS' teams can take our place, they're on standby." Grizzly pushed.

"Thompson's team is already assigned to a different problem." Hsu said, still not budging an inch. "IWS' squad is dealing with things here. They're not getting deployed today."

VSK opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped by a tug on the arm by MP-448.

The Commander scratched the scar across his nose, visibly thinking about what to do next. "...There's one option. But I need to check on it first. In the meantime-."

"Commander! They're back! We need you outside!" IWS' voice could be heard piercing the communication. Hsu looked over his shoulder.

"Shit." The man cursed, before turning to face the team again. "Hold position for now. Avoid drawing attention unless you have no choice."

The projection cut as Hsu spun around and ran for the door, pixels fizzling away. Which left the five girls looking between each other, wondering what in the world was happening. Or what would be coming afterwards.


(13:52)

As soon as Hsu and IWS rushed outside, they could see the Blackhawk touch down on the airstrip. A squad of humans in Griffin jumpsuits ran over to it as the rotors began to slow, pulling along crash carts and medical equipment. Several other humans were pulled off of the helicopter, each injured in various ways. Strapped onto the carts, hooked up to IVs as the doctors and nurses began to triage and assess.

Thompson got off after them, spotting the newly arrived pair and jogging over.

"Report." Hsu demanded as the Captain came to a stop before them.

"Situation's Tarf'd, boss. All four trucks had their engines shot to shit." Thompson readily informed. "When we landed it was all clear, but it was a trap. Fuckin' ringleader was waitin' for us."

"Intruder?" Hsu asked, not expecting the opposing leader to make such a deep dive behind their lines.

Thompson shook her head. "Scarecrow. She's back, and it sure as hell ain't a dummy this time."

A yelp left IWS, fear overcoming the sniper. Hsu was less animated, but still visibly displeased by the new arrival. It was bad enough that Sangvis was going after their logistics, having a ringleader carry out raids was even worse.

"What about the logistics team operating the trucks?" He followed up.

Thompson then slipped a hand behind her back, pulling out three Griffin ID cards. Each was splattered with red, the smell of iron increasing in it's intensity. Hsu's eyes grew double in size, his breath hitching for the briefest of moments.

"Three dead. Three critical. Two walkin' wounded. All of'em accounted for." Thompson said matter-of-factly, offering the identification over to her superior. "The bitch used the corpses as bait. She knew we'd send help."

Hsu gingerly lifted a hand, taking care to keep his fingers as far away from the red splotches as possible. He looked down to look at each of their faces, two men and a woman. All of their names looked vaguely Russian, but each looked young. None over the age of 25, to be sure. Each face stared back at him, empty and unmoving.

"Boss?" Thompson asked as the man froze up. She leaned down, trying to catch his eyes. "Matt. Matt, you OK?"

Hearing his name pulled Hsu back. He carefully handed the IDs over to IWS, before wiping his still dry hands off onto his red coat.

"How'd your team fare?" He asked, rerailing the conversation.

Seeing that the officer had come back to her, Thompson continued. "No losses, but we took an injury. Bar-."

"When I get my hands on hands on that pig-tailed little shit, I'm gonna shove that wand of her's down her fuckin' throat!" BAR could be heard screaming. The trio turned to see the irate machine gunner being carried off of the helicopter, lower part of her right ankle missing. Garand and Springfield helped her along, while M14 rushed over from a wheelchair she took from the medics.

"Calm down, Jill!" Garand ordered, easing the one legged doll down into the wheelchair. "Chrissakes, you want me to need my ears fixed on top of your freakin' leg?"

"I'm gonna kill'er, Genny! I'm gonna fuckin' kill her!" BAR raved, not sitting still in her new seat. "She thinks she can shoot ME?! I've eaten dolls twice her size for breakfast!"

"We know, Auntie…" M14 said, trying to calm the older doll down as she started to push her along.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" The older doll raged, a new bout of curses and threats coming out.

Thompson rolled her eyes, looking back to the Commander. "We're fine. Short a leg, that's it."

The Commander hummed in acknowledgement, lifting two fingers to his mouth and letting out a sharp whistle at the group. All four of the dolls looked to him, but he singled out Springfield in particular and beckoned her over.

As the sharpshooter jogged close, he looked back to Thompson. "Head to the repair bay and tell Khan to swap her leg out A-Sap. I'm going to need you guys soon."

"Got it." Thompson confirmed, darting off to do as she was told. Springfield filled her place, giving the Commander a salute.

"Reporting, Sir." She greeted. Hsu pointed behind them, up to the ATC where Kalina and the other Commanders were still handling the battle.

"Two things. First, get up to Command and Control and tell them we're activating Contingency Plan Baker." He rattled off. "They'll know what it means."

Springfield gave a sharp nod. "And the second thing?"

"Tell Kalina to have Echelons Two and Four drop what they're doing and pull into our rearline. I want a full, continuous sweep of every resupply route." The man explained. "North to south, high alert. The other teams'll be joining them soon."

"Yes, Sir." She said, turning to go and run the message before a thought popped into her neural cloud. "What about Scarecrow?"

Hsu scowled. "Get the AR Team on the horn."

The doll nodded again, this time not asking any further questions. She took off, leather boots slapping against the asphalt as she sprinted. Hsu turned away, pulling a communicator from his hip and adjusting the frequency before he began to walk towards the far hangar. IWS quickly scurried behind him, the ID cars being slipped into one of her coat pockets.

"M-Mister Hsu, what happened when Thompson gave you the IDs?" The Austrian asked as she matched his gait.

"Not important." He said, activating the communicator and speaking into it. "Santiago, I'm coming over. There's been a change to the timetable."

"I thought things were going too nicely today. Use the side door." The pilot snidely relayed, not hiding her displeasure at Hsu's oncoming arrival as usual.

"Not in the fucking mood, Ines." The man spat, killing the volume and stuffing the radio back onto his belt. Both he and IWS continued to march on to the final hangar on the strip, furthest to the west and away from the ATC where both had spent most of the day.

"A-are you sure?" IWS asked once again, voice shaking. 'Not in the mood' seemed to be an understatement, but her concern for her mentor remained steadfast.

Hsu sucked in a breath, calming himself down. As they reached the door, he stopped, looking over to the Austrian as she held a wrist in her hand.

"I don't like blood. It scares me." He told her. "A cut, or graze is fine. But more than that freaks me out. Alright?"

IWS nodded slowly, her own chest unwinding as the man explained it to her. "Is… it from the War?"

"Everything is." He told her, before gripping the door handle and pulling it open. Both entered, one after the other.

Inside the hangar, the lights hanging off of the top were on. They filled the area with an intense beam of light, overpowering the sun and covering every inch of the space. Right in the center stood the lone aircraft that rested within it's walls. A recently delivered, seemingly well maintained CH-47F cargo helicopter. A faded Greek roundel was present on it's tail, showing off where the helicopter had been seized from.

Close to the loading ramp, S.A.T.8 sat in front of a panoramic set of screens with an aviation helmet strapped on. The doll was focused on the screens, hands clutching a flight stick and oblivious to anything else. Santiago hovered over her shoulder, occasionally pointing to some item of interest.

As Hsu and IWS walked over to the helicopter, Santiago stepped away and joined the two.

"Normally I could care less if an officer cussed me out, but in your case it's a bad sign." Santiago assessed, standing in between the duo and the helicopter. "What's happened now?"

"Grizzly's team found a group of refugees hiding out beyond our line." He told the aviator, her expression going from serious to surprised. "They're too far for trucks, and there's too many for the Blackhawks."

"Dios mio." Santiago muttered, looking over her shoulder as she understood the man's urgency. "...Alright. Alright, how many?"

"Sixty two." He said.

"Still too many, even for this." The pilot lamented, putting a hand against the Chinook's hull. "I'll need two Blackhawks, for escort and to carry the extra. Are those weapon systems I asked for here?"

"Headquarters couldn't source us the miniguns you asked for-."

"Of course not..."

"-But Bar asked her old sector Commander for a favor. There's six Two-Fourtys and an M-Two, Kalina says they're all ready to mount." Hsu told her. Santiago, nodded, giving the hull a pat before turning to face the two again.

"Let's get those machine guns, then."


(14:04)

Back inside of the bunker, VSK was squatting next to a young boy as he cried.

She'd been trying for the past few minutes to calm the small child down. She found him like this, alone and sniffling. Yet when she arrived, he only seemed to cry even more. No matter what she tried, it seemed to only make it worse. Smiling, offering some sweets, trying to speak what little Mandarin she knew. It all backfired spectacularly.

The rest of her team, meanwhile, watched on.

"Should we help?" MP-448 asked.

Grizzly shook her head. "She wouldn't want it. No one ever likes being coddled."

"Including children…" M590 threw in.

"Some of the ankle biters love it, to be fair." MCX pointed out, taking a bite out of a fruit bar.

MP-448 leaned forwards, giving the British doll a deadpanned look. "Really? Insulting a child in front of them?"

"Oh come off it, they can't speak English." MCX said as a woman quickly shuffled past the, leaning down to scoop the crying child off of the ground. "See? Oblivious."

MP-448 still seemed displeased, more out of the principle of the matter than the practicality of it. Meanwhile, the child was carried away by her mother. VSK's stood back up onto her heels, head sagging in defeat.

"Why are they always so afraid of me…?" The sharpshooter lamented as her teammates approached.

"Your neutral expression is unnerving." MP-448 answered. "It is as if you plan to interrogate someone."

"Kids can sense tension. Just relax a bit." Grizzly chipped in.

"Might just need to replace your face." MCX suggested, jumping to the extreme as she came and draped an arm around VSK's shoulders. "Ever consider cosmetic upgrades? I know a bloke."

"Is the 'bloke' Mister Khan?" VSK asked, voice measured and skeptical.

"Actually, he's got a shop in the abandoned electronics factory-" MCX began.

"No thank you." VSK said, brushing the Brit's arm off. She then scuttled back towards the settlement wall, checking her loaded magazine.

MCX pouted, turning to catch the stares and glares of the remainder of their echelon.

"I was actually tryin' to help this time." She told them, her voice showing a degree of hurt from her offer being so brutally dismissed.

Grizzly and MP-448 walked past, the American giving her arm a playful hit with her hand. "A for effort, Pinkie."

"Please stick to being a nuisance instead. It's less pitiful." MP-448 threw over her shoulder, not bothering to look as MCX seethed at the insult. M590 moved to stand next to the stricken doll.

"Biiiiiiitch." The shotgunner said, directed at MP-448 in a hushed tone. MCX muttered some more choice words, notably louder and even more explicit.

Grizzly and MP-448 paid no mind, walking deeper into the tunnel system as they both activated their mapping software. MP-448's gait slowed notably, the lower quality doll's mainframe taking on greater stress from the additional program now running. Grizzly carried on as usual, but slowed her step to ensure that her teammate could keep pace. It was a small gesture, but one that the shorter doll seeme visibly thankful for.

"I truly wonder why they made me so short." The Russian asked, straightening out her tall hat.

"At least you don't make kids cry like VSK." Grizzly replied, offering her subordinate a silver lining.

The quip worked, a small smile creeping over MP-448 despite herself. "She's quite kind, despite her appearance. Most people see her and expect some kind of frigid seductioness."

"Yeah. Most of our designers really went all in on making us attractive." Grizzly lamented, giving the concrete wall a knock. Her internal radar went off, reading how much longer the corridor was. "Helped catch some crooks, but I've never really been interested in beauty contests."

"Agreed. Though the idea of being trapped in the body of an eighteen year old doesn't fill me with anticipation." "At least I am not the least mature person in our squadron."

"MCX bother you that much?"

"People like that always bother me. Jokesters and comedians who cannot take a situation seriously for their lives." MP-448 said, removing the magazine from her pistol and checking the capacity.

Grizzly shrugged. "I get it. But she's pretty chill, and she means well. Even if she goofs off, it's not like she ever puts us or the job in danger. If it did, I'd do something."

"You are far more forgiving than my sister. She doesn't suffer fools lightly." MP-448 said as she pulled some loose rounds from under her shawl.

"Psh. 'Suffer fools lightly.' That's intense."

"I try to avoid being too much like her." MP-448 said, inspecting one of her cartridges before slipping it back into the magazine.

"She can't be that bad." Grizzly suggested.

"She used to be a Political Officer in the FSB." MP-448 answered bluntly, loading her pistol and engaging the safety.

"...And she's a Griffin doll now?"

"Da."

"Oh. Great. Good to know we hire ex-Commissars."

The tension in Grizzly's voice was not lost on the younger handgunner, but she agreed with the sentiment regardless. "And what of you, Miss Grizzly? Did your manufacturer deign it necessary to give you any siblings?"

"Yep. Brother. His model was made for guarding prisons." She said, giving her hair a flip out of her jacket. "Total nerd, though. He's more obsessed with anime than anyone I ever met. It's embarrassing."

"For him, or for you?"

"Both of us, but mostly me." Grizzly said with a deep chuckle. "Seriously, he's got body pillows. Plural."

Such an image made MP-448 audibly gag, getting proper laugh out of Grizzly at such a revolted reaction. But as they walked further down the tunnel, and came to a stop at the four way intersection, she looked back down at the Russian.

"You and your sister don't get along, do you?"

MP-448 looked up to her Captain, discomfort visibly etched on her face. She holstered weapon, giving her coat a tug to straighten it out in an effort to try and channel her nervous energy.

"Living in your sister's shadow is one thing. Being their keeper is another." MP-448 lamented. "For all of Makarov's intelligence, wit and ability to connive, she refuses to believe almost anyone knows better than her."

"Sounds like you've had to cover for her a lot." Grizzly observed, then shrugged. "Griffin dolls can't defy Tactical Commanders anyway."

"We cannot defy them directly. That does not mean we cannot partake in malicious compliance."

"She does that often?"

"There is a reason why I requested a transfer out of her team." Was all MP-448 would admit to, removing her hat and giving the bill a quick dusting off with her hand. "All I ask is that you be aware of the consequences of your actions, Miss Grizzly."

"Like to think I am." The American said, looking further down the eastwards path lit with blood red bulbs. She gave her radar another ping, checking the distance once more before waving both of them on.

"Come on. Sooner we're done with this, sooner we can prep the evac."


(14:36)

As the two handgunners continued to map the bunker, and VSK began the preparations for the group to head onto the helicopters with Hsu's help, M590 and MCX guarded the outside door alongside some of the armed refugees. It was an awkward state of affairs, mostly because neither of them understood a word the humans were saying. Which left the two of them resting off to the side, behind one of the metal slabs.

"So joining this Sector was Grizzly's idea?" MCX asked, stretching her legs out as she lay against the steel.

"Joining Griffin was her idea." M590 corrected, still flipping through her phone as she checked a new text from M500.

"Oh." MCX said, playing with one of her earrings as another question came to mind. "Are you and her-."

"I have a boyfriend, and I'm pretty sure Grizzly doesn't bat for either team." M590 said, rolling her eyes at the series of dog GIFs that her sister had decided to carpet bomb her DMs with. She then glanced up, seeing that MCX looked bewildered.

"Bat. You know, like baseball." M590 further explained, MCX nodding in understanding.

"Right. That sport that only you lot and the Japanese care about." She quipped smugly.

M590 scoffed, going back to her phone messages. "Still better than cricket."

"You think people play cricket? I'm from London, love. Football's the only sport we care about."

"Football. Sure, I love the Bills." The shotgunner said, grinning from ear to ear as she could see the Brit grimacing in disgust from the corner of her eye. M590 smirked, glancing back up towards the trees at the edge of their clearing.

In theory, there was enough room here for two helicopters to land. In practice, they would be rather close. The Commander had warned them that the area needed to be totally clear if it was going to act as a proper landing zone, especially with how vulnerable the cargo helicopter and it's cargo would be.

Looking out was when M590 saw a strange flash of color at the base of the hill. She gave MCX a tap with her foot, beckoning her upwards.

"Hey. What's that to our ten o'clock?" She asked the only person in their echelon with an assault rifle. MCX went on a knee, peering through a slit she'd made in the cover with her optic.

Through the magnified sight, she saw two heads shrouded in the dark. Purple hair with red visors, easily hidden to a human eye. The armed refugees continued to speak amongst themselves, unaware that they were being watched.

"Two bandits, west-south west. Distance is about four-hundred meters." MCX muttered, adjusting where the stock of her rifle rested. "I can drop one, dunno about the second."

M590 hummed, looking away from where the figures were 'hiding' as she activated the radio on her rig. "Grizzly, we've got visitors. I don't think they know that we know, but that might change."

"Sit tight. I'll be up there in a few minutes." Grizzly ordered.

"I'll come up as well, the people are already packing." VSK spoke over the channel.

"Copy. We'll keep playing bait." M590 said, releasing the PTT button and glancing down at MCX. "Don't shoot just yet. VSK's coming up with Grizz."

"I can hit'em myself, y'know." MCX asked, tone insulted by the insinuation.

"VSK and Grizz have a better chance." M590 replied honestly.

"You think the girl with a handgun has better aim than me?"

"I don't think, I know." M590 assured. MCX muttered something or other about the thing being a load of bollocks, but did as the team's Lieutenant ordered.

Eventually, VSK and Grizzly emerged from the depths. Grizzly casually sauntered to the girls, while VSK replaced MCX's place in the small shooting slit. Meanwhile, Grizzly marked both targets on all four of their HUDs, a red outline appearing around both Dragoons.

"Got the shot?" Grizzly asked the team sniper.

"Yes, but the other one will run. And if any of you take aim, they will likely run regardless." VSK replied.

Grizzly shrugged, turning to one of the refugees. She rattled off some extremely broken Mandarin, a phrase that would have surely made Hsu flinch if he was listening. But the message made it across, and the man handed over the rifle he was holding. An old lever-action weapon.

Grizzly cycled the bolt, ejecting one of the rounds and catching it. After seeing the spitzer tip and the size of the round, she felt confident that it would do what she needed it to. She slipped the round back inside, then looked over her shoulder.

"Drop'em." Grizzly ordered.

A suppressed round zipped out from VSK's rifle, flying across the clearing before smashing right between one of the Dragoon's eyes. It's head popped, doll and mech tumbling over while the second one turned around and started running for the hills behind.

VSK opened up with the remainder of her magazine, shot after shot following. A few hit the mech, one landed on the Sangvis drone's shoulder, but the rest flew wide. As Grizzly stepped forwards into the opening, she spotted the Dragoon now running up the side of a far hill.

VSK stood up, reloading her weapon with a fresh magazine. Grizzly continued to track the target, following it through the iron sight until she adjusted to the top of the hill. She took in a deep breath, focusing the crosshair on the elevation's crest. VSK watched on with bated breath, seeing the Dragoon climb up, and up, and up, running as fast as its walker would allow.

That's when Grizzly pulled the trigger. A harsh BANG filled the still summer air, round soaring off and smacking the Sangvis doll square in the back. The walker came to a halt, doll sagging forwards over the controls before sliding off in a dead heap.

Scowling, Grizzly ran the lever-action and tossed the old weapon back to its owner. VSK stepped up, awestruck.

"That was one of the best shots I have ever seen." The marksman doll said.

Grizzly tsked, spinning on her foot and marching back towards the bunker.

"More like the worst. I was aiming for the mech." The handgunner admitted. VSK stared in disbelief, turning back to see the now operatorless walker stand still. Like a horse without a rider.

VSK followed behind, following their leader and heading back down the ramp. M590 and MCX remained in place, with MCX glaring over at her remaining teammate.

"How. The hell. Did you know she could do that?!" MCX demanded, more amazed than upset at this point.

"Y'know how Grizzly was a detective doll?" M590 explained. "The National Guard also gave all of us police dolls subprograms in case we got invaded. She got sniper data."

The answer was satisfactory, but it also only gave MCX more questions. "Then why'd Griffin give her a handgun?!"

"Why'd they give me a shotgun? Why'd they give VSK the sniper?" M590 answered, alluding that she had no clue. How imprints were doled out to dolls in this company seemed totally random to her. But at the same time, a handgun that fired a stupidly large round seemed oddly fitting for Grizzly.

More than a lanky rifle, at least.


(14:54)

Back at the airfield, S.A.T.8 was doing a final check of the Chinook's instruments.

The large helicopter now sat outside, final checks being carried out before her maiden voyage. The new weapons had been mounted, the tank had been refiled with gasoline and outside more dolls were shuffling around as Hsu told them all the plan. But S.A.T remained alone in the cockpit, crosschecking the switches with her long list.

Weeks ago, when Hsu had approached her with this plan of his, it seemed simple. Take a helicopter flight training program, upload it to her neural cloud, work from there. She was the easy candidate, her model of doll having been built to be able to do whichever task there was software for. It was why, out of all the dolls in the sector, she had the most varied resume. A jack of all trades, but a master of none.

Better than a master of one, or so she told herself.

She had expected that they wouldn't have thrown her into the pilot's seat for a real mission until tomorrow. She'd already had plenty of practice, both in the simulation and in the air. But flying in a controlled environment with Santiago at her side was far different from flying this hulk on her own. Even for the operation tomorrow, Santiago was supposed to be the primary pilot. She was simply insured.

S.A.T sighed, sliding down into the pilot's seat as the nerves began to overcome her. She grabbed the helmet, looking down at the visor with trepidation. Her team had all bade her good luck, IWS in particular seemed to sense how uncomfortable her assault specialist seemed. But her Captain's attempts to help had little effect.

"Almost ready, garota?" Santiago asked as she stepped into the cockpit. S.A.T jumped a bit, fumbling the helmet in hands and letting it fall. Luckily, Santiago laned down, grabbing the headgear before it hit the ground.

"Kids these days, no respect for equipment." The pilot teased playfully, sitting down in the other chair.

S.A.T let out a strained laugh, trying to keep up her usual appearances. "You're not that much older than me, Zia Ines."

"Old enough for you to call me 'Zia'." Santiago answered, before lifting both her hands and grasping at the back of her neck. She undid a clasp, before pulling a chain out from under her flight-suit. "Here, I have something for you."

She then showed the item to the doll. A golden pendant and chain, with the figure of a man in a monk's robe etched into the profile. He was floating in the air, above a small set of hills and among some flapping birds.

"Santo Giuseppe. Patron Saint of pilots." Santiago told her. "My mother gave this to me before I left for the War in Africa. It kept me safe. Now, I give it to you."

"I can't-." S.A.T began, protesting.

"You can, and you will." Santiago insisted, placing the pendant in the doll's hand. "But not forever. I expect it back once we're in Kyiv again. So no funny business, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Realizing what Santiago was implying, S.A.T sighed. The girl nodded, taking the chain and tying it around her neck under the lion's mane of hair.

"By the way. I brought you some company for this trip." Santiago told her. S.A.T looked up, confused as the head pilot made her way out of the cockpit. But then, Thompson stepped inside, setting her weapon down and looking around the workplace.

"Yeesh, this thing's big even up here." Thompson observed, impressed by the old bird. "Haven't been in one of these in years. Never got to sit up front before."

"Wait, hold on-." S.A.T said, standing up and shaking her head. "You can't be up here! It's not safe for you!"

Thompson waved her hand dismissively. "Oh pipe down. If it wasn't safe, you wouldn't be sittin' here."

"I'm here because I'm flying the helicopter!" S.A.T insisted. "What if we get shot at?! What if we crash?!"

"Uh, don't crash?" Thompson answered, as if it was something simple.

"That's not the point!" The shotgunner fired back. "What if I mess something up!? If you're back there, you'll be fine! But if you're up he- Mmff!"

The girl's concerns were cut off when Thompson pulled her over, muffling her words as they locked lips. The action caught S.A.T completely off guard, but she soon felt herself closing her eyes and leaning deeper into the embrace. Nervous or not, being with Thompson always had this effect eventually. A strange sense of safety despite the American's chaotic nature.

Feeling as though her lover had leveled out, Thompson pulled back and wore her smug grin once again.

"So. Don't crash?" The gangster asked again.

'...Don't crash." S.A.T promised, sighing in relief. The two then went back into their chairs, the erstwhile pilot slipping the helmet on and activating the radio.

Meanwhile, outside of the Chinook, Santiago stood before Hsu as she informed him of the flight squadron's status.

"We should be ready to lift off in ten minutes." The Brazilian told the Commander, hands on her hips as she watched the rest of the dolls begin to shuffle towards the helicopters. "We have enough hands?"

"Springfield, M-Fourteen and Bar are going in the Chinook. Garand's riding along as a flight medic." Hsu explained. "AUG and Type One-Hundred are going to be in Dragon Four, IWS and K-Eleven are in Dragon Five."

"Beleza. Alright." Santiago agreed as Springfield and M14 shuffled past and boarded the big helicopter. BAR followed them, her personal weapon slung on her back as stopped next to the two humans.

"All good?" Hsu asked the recently injured dolls.

"My ego's still bruised, but that'll heal when I get to kill something." BAR said without a shred of irony, eyes gravitating towards the newly mounted .50 on the Chinook's loading ramp.

"I get the big one, right?"

"By all means." Hsu said, watching as BAR walked over to the M2HB and pulled the weapon up into place. Santiago saw as the last of the dolls got into their respective assigned flights, then looked back to the vengeful MG doll.

"Thanks for the machine guns." She said, nodding her head towards Hsu. "He never gets me anything."

As BAR locked the heavy weapon into place on its stand, she planted her feet firmly on the loading ramp. She then leaned forwards, pulling the bolt on the M2 back with a satisfying 'CHA-CHUNK.'

"Oh, I know what the ladies like." BAR mused, bringing her aviators down over her eyes.

This was going to be far too fun.


(15:32)

As the sounds of approaching helicopters filled her ears, Grizzly and M590 rose from behind the metal slabs.

The Captain had replaced MCX as the bunker's guard dog, deciding it would be best if someone with a stronger sensor was on watch in case more Sangvis attempted to approach them. With this many people's lives on the line, Grizzly was taking as few chances as possible. VSK was popping in and out of the trees, double checking to ensure that nothing was skulking about.

Hearing the incoming aircraft, Grizzly spoke into her radio.

"VSK, pull back to us. We need to make this fast." She ordered.

"Yes, Kaptain." The sniper replied, appearing out of the brush and running back over to the duo. Behind her, the three helicopters could finally be seen. Two blackhawks riding ahead of one chinook lurching behind, in a reverse flying V. As they came over the clearing, only the chinook and one of the blackhawks descended. The final helicopter hovered high, rotating above as it provided top cover.

As the transports came down, Grizzly spoke with the pilots over the radio. M590 stepped back, grabbing hold of the bunker's door lever and wrenching it open. An alarm began to signal as the doors peeled apart, light beaming down the ramp.

Down below, MP-448 and MCX stood alongside the long columns of refugees. Each of them was carrying some items, either on their back or under their arms. The youngest of them were crowded into the center, flanked by the elderly with the middle aged adults forming the outer lines.

When the call came down, MCX waved over to MP-448. The shorter handgun doll stepped on top of a derelict crate, shouting out the phrase she'd practiced to signal that the path was open. The herd of people began to move forwards and upwards, out of the depths and into the fall afternoon.

"Like heardin' a bunch of sheep, innit?" MCX asked no one in particular.

MP-448 scoffed, hopping back down. "Your jokes remain subpar."

The British doll scowled, looking through the line and glaring at her Russian counterpart as she finally grew sick of her jeers.

"Do you have a problem with me?" MCX asked as she waved more of the refugees up the ramp and outside.

"Yes." MP-448 told her, grabbing a knapsack dropped by a woman and passing it back to her.

MCX wasn't exactly appreciative of the truthful response. "What? What did I do?!"

The Russian traffic officer leveled a glare through the line of people. "You are an unprofessional, annoying, loud-mounted air head who thinks that pranking people and bad jokes are personality traits."

"...OK. That… that hurts a bit, not gonna lie."

"I weep for you." MP-448 said sarcastically, stepping back onto the stool that allowed her to look over the whole line. Soon enough, the group had passed them, now boarding their respective helicopters.

MP-448 jumped off of her crate, following up behind the column before looking behind her.

"You want me to not have a problem with you? Take things more seriously. " She told MCX. "Any person can see you're capable. Why act like a fool?"

"I just… like seein' people happy, is all." MCX admitted quietly, getting MP-448 to stop in her tracks.

"...Admirable." The Russian admitted, waiting for her teammate to catch up before they both cleared the bunker entrance.

Back onto the surface, Grizzly and BAR were helping the last of the civilians into the helicopter. As they all sat down, BAR retook her position and pulled her weapon station back up into place. Grizzly dismounted, pointing to the remaining stragglers of her team and waving for them to follow.

"Ladies, I do believe this calls for a celebration." Grizzly said, stepping into the secondary blackhawk as IWS made room.

"On a helicopter?" The sniper asked, gingerly adjusting the machine gun she'd been put on. Never before had she used such a brutish weapon. She didn't quite like it, either. Felt extremely uncivilized to her usual weapon.

"I didn't bring beer, unfortunately!" Santiago called from the cockpit. "Strap in, we're taking off!"

Soon enough, they were airborne once again. Their helicopter took its position in the formation once more, flying to the left of the chinook and some distance in front of it. Occasionally, M590 would look out into the fields below, scanning the ground with hesitation. Meanwhile in the cockpit, Santiago's radio burst with life, Hsu's voice coming out as he began to relay a new set of orders.

"I heard something about a Ringleader over the radio." M590 asked IWS, looking up to the Austrian. "Should we be worried?"

IWS shook her head, trying to find some way to comfortably hold onto the M240. Eventually, she gave up, letting the weapon float in place and grabbing hold of the handle above her. She peered down, watching the treetops fly by at a breakneck pace.

"The Kommandant is handling it as we speak." IWS assured.

M590 hummed, not sure if she should take the words at face value or see them as nothing more than a platitude. But at that moment, their helicopter lurched to the left, breaking from the formation and going onto a new path. IWS yelped, nearly losing her footing before M590 leaned over and grabbed the sniper.

After the helicopter leveled back out, Santiago turned. She glared at IWS, displeased at the girl's poor positioning.

"Get back on the gun. We've got a new job."


A/N: Another chapter down. And the halfway mark for this arc.

Next time, it's the AR team's show. Some good old fashioned head hunting.

o/