Naturally, with his commandeered leg equipment now a shredded mess, Jack's priority list was being rearranged in realtime as the pair ascended the staircase.
To Do:
Punch Kashuba's teeth out through his arsehole
Convince Cave to start wearing more clothes / Find a clothing stall to get Cave not-naked again
Find a new pair of trousers
Even if the trousers weren't jeans, as long as they meant he wasn't getting a Highland breeze every time he lifted his legs, he'd be fine with whatever. Despite the potions, his legs were still aching like Hell, so he was wincing with every few steps he took upwards, but never broke stride.
Of course, this was all not a major concern for him.
His day had brightened up after he ditched the sledgehammer for the massive F.R.S.E Hammer from the dead Armournaut, and stole his AA-12. That would make any of the terrorists within the office spaces above fresh meat for his kill-counter, since 90% of the walls in places like that were thin drywall slabs in close-quarters, and that's exactly the environment that two things thrived in: Shotguns, and automatics.
Fortunately, the AA-12 put both of those categories together.
Though, Jack did have a thought.
"Cave?" he began, grimacing as he rounded another railing. The woman behind him was struggling slightly, but since her legs hadn't been literally shattered, she was doing OK.
"Yes?" she said calmly, voice betraying her slight exhaustion, either due to the stairs or London's insistence on her heavy contribution.
"You experienced in attackin' through thin cover?"
"Are you experienced in Advanced Naked Watsu Massages?" came the instant reply. Jack rolled his eyes. "Because at the rate you'll have to pay me back, you'll likely be one of Gamindustri's most experienced masseuses."
"Cave, leave your massage fetish for later, alright?" he groaned, trying to figure out whether it was him or Cave that was meant to be naked in an 'Advanced Naked Watsu Massage'. "I was askin' because I wanted to know whether you needed somethin' to pierce cover. Got a couple of machine guns, if you want 'em."
Cave raised a brow. "I assume one of those is that 'Kalashnikov' rifle that you gave me an in-depth description of at the nightclub?" Jack was briefly surprised, stopping only to peek through a doorway and continue upwards.
"Hell, you remembered that?" he asked, turning to her and smiling. Cave nodded, a small smirk on her lips.
"I remember how you said it would not stop working even if you filled it with entrails," she replied calmly, catching up to London and glancing up the emergency shaft. "And considering that I will be bathing in Mr. Cashbar's entrails when I am done with him, it is good to know that it will not jam."
Jack nodded appreciatively. "Nice to know you care. You want it?" He reached into his disk, and pulled out the AK, the reassuring weight of the rifle filling his left hand. Normally, a man might strain with such a weight, but London had already figured out that it wasn't too hard to dual-wield. He offered it out towards his companion.
Cave eyed it up and down. "I do have my SP and EXE Drive attacks," she noted, before reaching up to accept the weapon. "Though, weapons from your world do seem to be able to shred through opponents much faster. Thirty rounds?"
Jack shrugged, and continued up the stairs as Cave assessed the world's most ubiquitous assault rifle. "Haven't run out, so far," he replied casually. "To be honest, infinite ammo's been a blessin', here."
"I'd imagine so, considering your tendency to attract the attention of every single unsavoury armed maniac within a mile's radius," Cave noted. The rifle was much bigger than she'd expected, if she was being honest, but the metalwork and wooden furniture made it remarkably comfortable in her hands. "What's the plan?"
"You're aware that most office spaces are laid out usin' drywall and thin pieces of wooden boards, right?" Jack asked, peering through the gap in a doorway as they passed it.
"Yes. They do that for privacy, which I assume is why those men would likely be using it for cover."
"Right. Thing is, what you're wieldin' right now is designed to shatter any form of resistance. Body armour, clothes...thin cover. You catchin' my drift?" He caught a glimpse of Cave nodding bravely out of the corner of his eye.
It must have been true, what they said: Give anyone an AK, and they'll be a soldier.
"Why bother with the offices?" Cave asked. "Surely we can just take the emergency staircase up to the top?" Jack shook his head, and pointed upwards.
"'fraid not," he sighed. Cave followed his gesture, and saw what he meant; Despite them being three floors below their destination, the stairs stopped on the floor above. She grimaced, shifting her new rifle in her grip. "Looked over the blueprints on the way to save you," Jack continued, "This service staircase stops on floor one-ninety-seven. Only way up beyond there is to take the main stairs through the finance offices, which then leads us to the boardroom."
Cave frowned. "I came down that way when I was injured," she said flatly. "I'm afraid I won't be much help in giving information, since I was too busy dying to notice enemy positioning."
"Alright, fair enough. Important thing is that you made it out alive, Cave."
The woman smiled slightly, something she knew she hadn't done much of since arriving in this goddess-forsaken tower. Considering that he had survived so many bullet wounds, slash injuries, broken bones, ruptured organs, shattered limbs, and emotional traumas over the past few months, she had to admit: London was probably the single most dangerous – and mouthy – of the group of Earth humans she had encountered, yet also one of the most pleasant...when he tried.
Just as she opened her mouth, there was a sudden darkness that overcame the two. The hum of the energy heading through pipes and the rushing of the air conditioning fans suddenly ground to a halt, leaving the entire emergency shaft in darkness. London quickly grabbed hold of Cave's arm, and pulled her towards him, and very close.
"Stay close," he whispered, "I'm thinkin' this is the start of an ambush."
Cave, now very close to the man she had been praising a moment ago, now smelled that very distinctive whiff of rotting flesh. In the low light, she couldn't tell what it was exactly, but considering that her shoulder – which had her male companion's arm around it – was slowly feeling more damp, she made the assumption that his arms were still wet with blood from...well, something.
The smell meant it probably wasn't recent either.
For the briefest moment, her momentary elation that he was willing to shield her with his body was replaced with thoughts of some of the horrible things he had done on the way up.
...didn't he once say he had a chainsaw...?
Just then, the shaft was suddenly bathed in crimson light, as the emergency power to the stairs was engaged. The air conditioning remained off, but this was no issue to them: The staircase was already quite cold.
Once he was certain nothing had used the powercut as a chance to move into ambush position, Jack gently released Cave, and started looking around, shotgun in hand. "What the Hell was that about...?" he murmured, scratching his chin.
"Were I guessing," Cave began, trying to wipe some of the blood from her shoulders, the red light turning it into a harder job than expected, "The power must have been shut down. Protocols for most major buildings in any nation dictate that emergency lighting must be available in the fire exits."
"Well, we're not runnin' blind, at least," Jack said flatly. "But I would assume in that case, the main offices'll be pretty dark?" Cave thought for a moment as they continued upwards, much slower now. Only two floors remained before they reached 197, so they couldn't be as loud.
"There are windows," she noted, "But from what I remember, the sun was setting. That means we'll likely be working from the light provided by neighbouring buildings; Not much, considering this is one of the tallest buildings in the city."
Jack grimaced. "Damn. Those NVGs got smashed by that armoured rapist, too..."
Cave raised a brow. "NVGs?"
"Night Vision Goggles."
"Ah, of course. I wasn't familiar with the acronym. I used those to stalk you through Leanbox's basilicom that night I choked you out."
Jack sighed as loudly as he could without drawing attention. "Oh, come on, you know I don't like talkin' about that..."
"Really? Why?" Cave smirked, adjusting the small lever on the side of the AK. One of the settings had a smiley face engraved next to it, and it was just before a crosshair marking. Presumably, the crosshair was 'single shot' for accuracy, and the smiley was 'fully automatic'.
She wondered whether the original owner had that put on, or if it was one of London's features.
The man in question seemed rather flustered. "Well, y'know...! I don't...I never really...I don't go unconscious." Cave shrugged, deciding to work with this little tidbit of humiliation that she had. After all, they had a minute or two to get up the stairs.
"Well, I thought you were rather adorable, all limp and sleepy," she smirked, leaning closer to him. To her (not unwelcome) surprise, the large enforcer leaned away uncomfortably, almost worried. "It seems like that post on Neppit in which you were cuddling the Lastation CPU Candidate was right: You really are a big softy."
She couldn't see it in the red lights to confirm her theory, but she figured he was probably blushing at that point.
"Cave, don't be doin' this, now..." he groaned, rounding the banister to head up the next flight of stairs.
"And why not?" the woman asked, once more, "I still think it best that we have each conversation as if it is our last. After all, we very well may die in the next battle. That being said, do you have any feelings of repressed guilt or dark secrets you wish to share? Anything you say that links to your blatant desire for gentle warmth and affection, or your blatant sado-masochist tendencies, is an automatic bonus."
Jack shook his head, sighing. She was trying to tell him something, damn it. He felt like one of those harem protagonists, although maybe he was picking it up, but had deemed her motives irrelevant due to the fact there was a much more important thing to deal with, being armed terrorists with spec-ops training.
"I'll show you a fuckin' automatic, if you don't lay off..." he muttered, before drawing his AA-12 and advancing up the final flight of stairs. The dominant smirk disappeared from Cave's face as she followed behind, AK held low. As they passed a large, white-painted '197' on the wall, they came upon a metal fire escape door at the top of the stairs. Nearing the door in the crimson light made voices more clear on the other side.
Jack raised a hand as he stood on the right-hand side of the doorway, prompting Cave to halt behind him. After a second of listening to the voices on the other side, he gave another hand gesture to the left hand side of the doorway, Cave darting over and taking up position with the AK.
Despite the door being closed, a glance downwards would yield glimpses of small glimmers of white light beneath the door. Jack looked over to Cave. "They're using torches," he whispered. "Power must be down out there." The redhead gave a small nod.
"Shall we avoid confrontation?"
Jack tilted his head side to side. "Not much fun, but probably best. We dunno what they've got out there."
"Definitely thin cover. I saw a lot of drywall on the way down."
"Good. We staying together?"
"Well, I know what you get up to when left alone, so I'll watch our six. What if they spot us?"
"Kill everything that moves."
"Very well. I can run distraction."
Jack raised a brow.
"They've got machine guns, Miss Cave, they'll shred you apart."
"I did tell you that I can dodge bullets remarkably well. You'd be surprised how fast I can move."
"Just...be careful. Soon as I open this door and we're spotted, we'll be getting shot from every direction, and missing the target was not part of any of the training doctrines we were given."
"And failure was not one of the things the RRoD trained me to accept. Ready?"
Jack smirked, and levelled the AA-12 with his shoulder.
"Ready. Check our six."
Gently, he reached forward, and slowly turned the door handle to the fire exit that lead into the office. His hand gripped the small knob, and Cave braced to move through as quietly as possible. The confused voices on the other side were slightly less panicked, with the men now apparently realizing it was a simple power failure. For that reason, Jack suspected they'd have lowered their guard somewhat.
Whether they were on alert or not, Cave and Jack were gonna have to be absolutely silent.
As they slipped through the doorway, Jack squinted in the low light, trying to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Cave was already somewhat prepared for it, since she'd been going in and out of dark buildings for many years with the RRoD. That did mean, however, that she was stuck behind London, who was carefully picking his way into the room, crouching slightly so that he was below the office cubicle walls that formed a maze through the entire floor.
All around, there came the mumblings of the surrounding men, with heavy marching paces ringing out through the darkness against the carpeted floor. Jack and Cave did their best to try and be quiet.
As they entered a small 'alley' of cubicle walls, both sides decorated with noticeboards and documents, they made it about halfway through before Jack suddenly snapped out an arm and halted Cave, grabbing her mouth in order to muffle the inevitable reflexive yelp of surprise.
She was about to try and figure out how to ask him what was wrong without breaking silence, but she soon saw.
Up ahead, flashlights were getting brighter against the office wall. They were dead in the middle of the room, now, so they had reached activity center.
Jack glanced back to Cave, who met his gaze, then bobbed her head backwards to suggest they move the other way, back where they came, to find a different route. Jack nodded, then glanced behind her, before quickly shaking his head.
Cave turned.
Flashlights approached behind them.
There were no exits in the dark cubicle alley.
They were now cornered, whether the enemy had planned it, or not.
Jack glanced around, looking for something to hide behind, but nothing could conceal them. No printers, no nothing. A glance at the roof above them showed multiple flashlights all around the room, all in various locations around the maze of office spaces. Sure, they could be seen, but it was damn hard to figure out whether they'd see you, and to keep track of all of them at once...impossible.
He looked back towards the encroaching flashlight behind Cave, then the one behind him. He looked at her.
Her gaze hardened.
Jack paused, nodded, and then silently lay himself down as Cave began standing up, aiming towards the approaching flashlight behind her. A few hushed voices suggested that someone might have heard her, but a few creaky floor panels would be NOTHING compared to what came next.
Cave grit her teeth, and stood up straight, AK rifle in one hand, and drawn scissors in the other. She quietly crossed her arms over for a second, preparing, and then inhaled deeply. She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating as her trio of small drone-like combat robots appeared at her side.
She'd done this too many times to fuck up now.
Her eyes snapped open, and she went onto her tiptoe, pushing her left foot sharply to the side and forcing herself into a spin. The robots began to spin, too, and started using what was in her EXE Drive as a means to get the party started.
The whole room was suddenly illuminated in a brilliant rainbow of lights as within seconds, the drones released a barrage of energy shots, shattering and blasting apart the thin cover surrounding them as the soldiers immediately broke into panic and gunfire. Green, red, gold, blue, pink, and dazzling white made their appearances, suddenly turning the dark office space into a near disco-like Bullet Hell.
Jack was squinting under the blistering heat and light of Cave's attack, and he was certain she'd accidentally kicked him a few dozen times, but he kept the aim on his AA-12 levelled to where the flashlight came from. In the unlikely event that the guy survived the incinerating hell that had suddenly ambushed the dozens of men in the area, he would likely be crawling.
Jack squinted under the light, just being able to make out...
...a tiny red-dot sight peeking around the corner of the melted cubicle wall, aimed at Cave.
That was all he needed; He pulled the trigger on his auto-shotgun, the recoil spring inside absorbing the sudden force and sending forwards a London-style barrage of buckshot, tearing through what remained of the other guy's cover and starting to maul the man behind the MP5. He could be heard screaming, just barely audible over the deafening scream of thousands of lasers firing at the same time and the menacing boomph that came in rhythmic sequence from the end of London's AA-12.
He wasn't sure what was going on behind him, he thought as he stopped firing and caught glimpses of 'Karl Adüti' after being turned into wallpaper paste, but he was certain that he could feel the thin panels of the office's carpeted floor vibrate every so often. He couldn't feel footsteps, but he could feel the sudden vibration of heavy objects slamming into the floor: Corpses, and with some of the slams being slightly less hard, or coming in rapid succession, that meant that Cave had cleaved some of them into pieces.
That meant that their gamble paid off: Cave had mentioned that the 'Black Label' move wasn't much of an easy-use attack for her, especially since she had always been told by her bosses to avoid collateral damage at all costs, but the entire floor here was nothing but terrorists, stockbrokers' desks, and shitty computer equipment. The fact that the devastation was a surprise was another bonus; Who the Hell expects to be melted all of a sudden?
As she stopped spinning, Jack wiped his eyes clean of the huge amounts of ash that came from Cave's attack, steadily standing up. All around the room came a mix of screams of agony, orders being practically screeched, and the smell of melted office-ware.
Once London got to his feet, Cave wobbled slightly beside him, prompting him to stick a hand out to aid her balance. He offered a genuine Grin Of Approval™, and patted her on the back. "You good?" he asked quickly, AA-12 raised slightly. Cave's eyes took a second to stop rolling in their sockets, before she shook her head clear and put the AK into hipfire position.
"It's the spinning that gets me, every time," she noted, awkwardly racking the bolt on the rifle. Jack smirked.
"Well, Little Miss Ballerina," he said smartly, "You wanna practice our duet?"
Upon hearing this line, Cave displayed an uncharacteristic – and frankly terrifying – grin.
'Let's dance."
Jack was conflicted on whether he should swallow with concern, be very proud of himself for that rather good Ballerina one-liner, or whether he should be feeling things towards Cave for working with that one-liner.
Nevertheless, he smiled, and looked around the room, standing up to his full height and back-to-upper-back with Cave's slightly smaller frame.
All around them, through the fields of melted office walls and drywall, he could just about see enemies darting around and getting into cover, seeming to avoid all the drywall. There were no lights, per se, but the amount of stuff that was now on fire provided a lovely warm glow that highlighted the silhouettes of the surrounding troops as they made their advances.
Jack nudged Cave.
"Set the switch on the side to the midway-point," he said calmly, glancing at the side of the AA-12 to make sure it was in full-auto. "Then point and shoot."
"Mr. Loondumb, I know how to fight," she replied, the sound of a click resonating to say she'd set the fire selector to fully-automatic, too. "Shall I advance to the other side through my path forwards?"
Jack thought for a brief moment, then understood; She meant whether he wanted her to loop around to the other side of the stairs from the direction she was facing, and for him to do the same.
"Aye, I'll head my way, then," he agreed, eyes following a target that was moving to his right. "Meet you at the foot of the stairs once it's clear. Good luck."
He felt the pressure release from his back as Cave moved away, and he did the same, advancing forward.
Paces, at first, but as soon as he could see where someone had just darted into, he picked up speed, and held the AA-12 waist high.
Up ahead, he could hear the immediate cry.
"CONTACT RIGHT!"
Less than a half second later, and his right ear was assaulted by the sounds of gunfire, cracking and ringing around the office space as he broke into a full speed charge to the other end of the room.
Midway, he slung the AA-12 into his left hand, holding the foregrip with his right and pulling the trigger, once more beginning the process of releasing his own barrage in retaliation. He wasn't sure if he'd hit anybody, or if anybody was going to be where he was running to, but whatever the result was, he was severely outgunned: Just the way he liked it, but also carrying a much higher chance of being killed very fast.
When the bullets nearby suddenly became too close for comfort, someone suddenly highlighting him using a flashlight for all to see, he dived to his right, straight behind a desk, munitions shredding the nearby furniture as he rolled behind some form of cover from the shooting.
Recovering, he came face to face with a man in a ballistic face mask, who immediately dropped his M4 and tried to draw his CQB pistol on him. He wasn't fast enough: London lunged forwards, grabbing the man's right wrist with his left hand and darting behind him, twisting the arm so that the inner elbow was facing upwards, the AA-12 disappearing in a violet pulse of light.
Jack moved his knee to the 'arm-wrecker position', but before he could raise it, a loud bang rang out from behind him, and a solid force shunted him forwards, costing him his grip on the man but not before knocking the pistol from his opponent's hand.
Jack yelled out in surprise, stumbling slightly, before regaining his bearings and spinning sharp and fast to get back at them. The man behind who'd shot him was also wearing a ballistic mask, making it hard to gauge what emotions they both had running through their heads, but more concerning was that the shooter still had a pistol.
Bullets zipped past as Jack broke into a short charge, balling his fist and doing his damnedest to shrug off the bullets that the attacker was firing into his face. The other man that had evaded his CQC had lunged to a nearby desk, grabbing a pair of scissors and sweeping forward with his improvised knife.
Jack's adrenaline-and-fury-fuelled reactions were sharper than the office implement; He twisted his abdomen to evade the masked man's hooked swing, deciding to change his plan for a punch into a plan for an elbow.
He followed through, spinning himself back around to firmly slam his right elbow-pad into the back of his opponent's skull, a sickening crack ringing out upon contact as the man screeched in pain.
Jack shifted slightly, grabbing the man's collar and using his victim as a form of brief cover from his other enemy's gunshots; The masked man in his grip spasmed as a series of pistol shots pierced his body armour and torso.
A pistol round flew under the corpse's armpit and slammed into Jack's face.
His head twitched violently as the bullet crumpled against his left cheekbone, the sound of cracking beneath his eye ringing out loudly through his skull, piercing the gunfire as a jet of blood spurted from beneath his vision.
As he shoved the corpse forward, Jack let out...what? A yell? A scream? Some primal roar of rage?
He wasn't even sure, himself.
All he knew was that it hurt, his depth perception was suddenly fucked, and that the corpse had stopped responding to the gunfire.
The other guy was empty.
Jack took his chance, ignoring the injury for now; He took the masked body and threw the corpse towards his opponent, giving him a brief window to lunge forward and pull out the double-barrel. The weapon materialized rapidly in his hands, another purple flash to add to Cave's laser lightshow from across the room, and he swept it up into a firing position.
The stock had snapped off earlier, but hipfiring was what he excelled at. Both steel barrels were levelled at his assailant within a split second, the pistol-waving man only just being in the process of drawing out a fresh magazine for his Glock.
Jack, meanwhile, was loaded.
The moment he pulled the triggers, Jack watched his enemy's head simply burst, sending shards of ballistic fibre and meaty chunks all over the place as the rest of his body went limp.
At the same time, the other corpse hit the floor, with the fresh one slumping on top with the thud of colliding bulk, before they were suddenly pressed together as Jack pressed forwards, dropping two new shells into the double-barrel and snapping it shut as fast as he could.
Bullets from around the area still tearing through the air and the office dividers, he opted to go for covering fire; Ditching the shotgun, he took out the AA-12 and RPD, slinging them beneath his armpits, and strafing back and forth in the darkness between desks, frantic yelling of orders from around the room being difficult to discern over the constant roar of machine-gun fire, and the enemy silhouettes briefly popping up in the rainbow strobes that filled the entire room from Cave's barrages of lasers and lights.
Jack, meanwhile, had just reached the corner of the office, and wasn't able to see the entrance to the stairs. That in mind, he doubted his odds of getting up there until the area was clear of opponents.
He could see some of their faces in the pulsing lights and the bursts of golden muzzleflash: Some of the guys near the back were Non-Commissioned Officers, like Sergeant Fenix. He was currently hunkered down behind a printer, giving him a remarkably high amount of ballistic defense. He was always very good at firing from cover, and was renowned for being pretty goddamn brutal in close combat.
As the 7.62 and the 12 gauge shells bounced from nearby surfaces and pinged against his legs as he ran through the tight quarters of the office, Jack made a mental note to show that COG-headed son of a bitch who was the best at kicking people's arses.
Left and right, he could see results; His enemies were dropping fast and hard, but those that were dodging the bullets were the more skilled guys from training. Naturally, that meant he was going to save 'the best 'til last', in a way.
A very close burst of rifle fire shattered a plasterboard column near his face, and he diverted the RPD to face to his three o'clock in retaliation, shearing away an entire office dividing panel as the man behind jerked violently in response to the penetrating bullets, staggering backwards and finally crashing to the ground through a desk.
A second later, a loud crack to his left slammed into his back, sending Jack stumbling forwards in the darkness as a marksman dropped a shot into his shoulder blade. Gritting his teeth and spinning, Jack opened up with everything he had towards the sniper, spitting out a fresh mouthful of blood as the furniture ahead of his turned into a show of dust and wood splinters.
Jack glanced quickly to his left: Cave was now on the other side of the stairs, the lights pulsing on the other side violently.
Now he could really open up.
Ditching the two automatics with a pulse of light and briefly diving to the side to avoid a flurry of tracer rounds, he picked himself up and withdrew the minigun, staying in a crouch.
To his front, the roof showed lots of flashlights pointed in his direction, and also where the enemies were specifically.
Grinning, he made his bullet hose as secure in his grip as possible before pulling the trigger, the familiar winding up sound announcing the weapon's presence, followed by the deafening lightshow of lead that came from the six rotating barrels.
Keeping it low, Jack swept the weapon in an arc across the ground, practically sawing through the bottoms of every divider in his line of fire and shredding apart the legs of anyone who was still around. The enemy gunfire died down as Jack's enemies attempted to seek refuge from the floor-level leg-ripping bullets, those who fell being immediately torn to bloody chunks in a hurricane of hot metal.
Shell casings bounced from the wall nearby, many of them burning small holes in Jack's already tattered clothes, and one of them partially melting the skin on his shredded cheekbone to lodge itself into the flesh, the skin cooling just fast enough to leave the brass casing fused to his face.
If he was being totally honest with himself, Jack was fairly certain he was just about losing his ability to comprehend combat pain. The only thing that hurt the most in his fight with the South African Armournaut was the part where Cave mended his shattered legs.
In this case, he was full of shrapnel and lead, part of his face was gone, he could feel the bottom half of his left shoulder blade moving around as shards of bone beneath his flesh, his armour was clearly destroyed, and his eyes were on fire from the volume of smoke and heat filling the enclosed office space.
And yet, the only thing that stood out as painful was the splitting headache that was arising from the Jericho horns of gunfire that constantly droned in his ears from all sides, coupled with the flashing lights and the body pain.
He could barely comprehend any more advanced strategies than "Kill it all".
Once more releasing a yell of rage, he hefted the minigun and stood up to full height, beginning to march down the aisle he was in and see who had managed to get cover on a printer or table.
Thankfully, not many people had done that, and all that seemed to remain was stringy pieces of meat that hung limply from the remaining divider panels, and the weakened enemies that had shielded themselves behind the ever-durable office printers.
Finally, Jack released the trigger to get a clearer view.
Contact front.
Five men popped up from behind the two visible printers, two of them practically ignoring the shattered dividers and going in a straight sprint towards him whilst the other three provided covering fire.
Jack wasn't certain they were thinking straight in the midst of all the death.
Then again, he thought as he wound the minigun up again, neither was he.
The two men became little more than pairs of legs with lower spines as soon as the wall of lead hit them, shearing them into two bloody messes and sending the three remaining men into cover.
Jack grinned, and prepared to move forwards, focusing fire on the left printer.
Contact front.
The printer to his right suddenly had a flash to the side of it accompanied by another loud 'crack', one which introduces a bullet that smashed right into Jack's chest. He yelled in pain, stumbling and releasing the trigger, which gave his enemies just enough time to pop out and shoot at him over the now very much open office space.
"Shite!" Jack shouted, looking around for cover as the rifle fire began again.
To his right, a solid steel filing cabinet.
That would do.
He turned to his left, sprinted the six meters, and dived for three, sending him crashing into a pile of wood and shredded corpses, bullets pinging from his newfound metal cover.
He wished he had a healthbar.
A bullet tore through the metal and zipped over his head.
He wished he had found better cover.
Across the room, he heard a man yell "ONE IN THE PIPE!", followed by some furniture near him exploding violently.
He wished he had armour, he wished he had more STR boosters, he wished-
His phone buzzed in his torn pocket.
"THIS THING WAS DESTROYED!" he yelled, grabbing it and fumbling to answer. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!"
"Heyyy, Jack, what're you doing right now?" came Chaz's chirpy tone.
"GETTIN' SHOT AT WHILST LYIN' DOWN!" came Jack's loud and immediate response. "WHY DOES IT MATTER?!"
"Good," Chaz replied. "Don't stand up for the next ten seconds."
Jack raised a frantic brow as the call cut off.
Why couldn't he –
Oh, shit.
Amongst the gunfire, he could hear the distant sound of two jet engines getting louder.
It was coming from the enemy's direction.
He just hoped that Cave wasn't in the line of fire.
He had barely any time to process more as nearly the entire floor suddenly detonated sequentially, 20mm rounds blasting apart countless objects and filling the room with fire, heat, and ash.
London shoved his face into the floor and shielded his head with his forearms, curling up slightly as the area nearby burst into violent shaking and explosions.
It took a few seconds for the shards of wood to stop hitting him on the head.
It took him another second for his ears to stop ringing.
The high pitched whine disappeared just in time for him to hear and feel the building shake, Chaz's jet flying past. A moment later, he heard a distant sound that universally scared the fuck out of a lot of terrorists and Soviet tank crews.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrt...
Breathing heavily, London took a few seconds to pick himself up, dusting pieces of melted filing cabinet away from the minigun and lifting its reassuring weight once more. Then, he looked around the room.
Though there was a lot of dust, he couldn't see the printers anymore. All he could see in their place were blasted out husks, with charred, bloody skeletons behind it, clutching melted Kalashnikovs and a broken Steyr Scout.
Broken being a loose word to describe the fact that the scope was lodged through the skull of one of the corpses.
London took a moment to assess this, and exhaled slowly.
The gunfire and light show across the room had died down; All he heard for a moment was a man crying and begging, before the sound of a single rifle shot silenced it all, ringing out around the room and leaving the only remaining noises as the wind rushing through a hundred smashed windows, and the sound of Chaz circling the building in the Warthog.
"Well, Miss Cave's won, then..." he mused, scratching what remained of his stubble that hadn't been replaced by small shrapnel.
Steadily, he made his way across the room towards the entrance to the staircase, minigun still in hand and the barrels still sizzling. His hand wafted in front of his face to get the settling dust from it, and he occasionally coughed, his breathing laborious and filled with puffs of smoke.
Cave had to be around here somewhere.
As he reached the bottom of the staircase that finally lead up to the last floor – and last room - in the entire tower, Jack looked down at his feet.
The bullet-riddled corpse of Corporal Ahrmah – someone Jack remembered as being very by-the-book in terms of his soldiering – lay in a shredded mess next to Jack's blood soaked and ruined boots. Hardly fazed by the gore, Jack crouched down to inspect the body. The low light made it hard to see, but...
...yeah, he had a radio.
Jack's had been broken earlier in the fight with the Armournaut, so he might as well get a replacement. Wrenching it from the shoulder mount of what remained of Ahrmah's tactical vest, he stood up and reached into his own torn and bloodied shirt pocket, fishing around for the radio frequencies he kept on a small piece of paper.
Upon finding it, he walked over to a nearby edge of the building, turning the paper to face the city lights that streamed in from below, before squinting at it.
His bullet-shattered cheek screamed at him to stop squinting.
Jack ignored it.
Reading off the list, he also adjusted the radio's frequency dial. "Oh...nine...one...seven...five...six."
For a brief moment, the radio picked up nothing but static, before Jack finally decided to speak.
"Gents, if any of you can hear me, it's London," he said flatly, before releasing the button.
Silence for a moment.
Then, one by one, the voices of Chaz, Luke, James, and Josh came over the radio.
"FUCK, MATE! YOU'RE ALIVE!" Luke cheered.
"What the Hell happened up there just now?!" Josh asked frantically. "We just heard a load of gunfire, and then Chaz strafed the building with the twenty mil!"
"Just wiped out most of Kashuba's men," Jack said calmly, wiping some of the blood from his cheek. "Got Miss Cave with me. Kashuba's on the floor above. Any word from the CPUs?"
"They're fine. I'll put them on the line, for you," James cut in, before a slight breeze was heard on the radio. Quietly, there came an 'it's London' followed by several 'Oh Goddesses!'. The radio suddenly made a series of crackles as someone wrenched it from James' hand.
"MR. LOONDUMB?!" Noire screamed. Jack winced, moving the radio away from his ear.
"That'd be me," he retorted calmly. "You ladies doin' alright?"
"Well, we all just got kidnapped, had our Shares absorbed by that dragon-thing, and tied onto its' arm, but yeah, sure, we're all absolutely fine!" came her snarky response. "And I take it your irresponsible backside has been having a real tough time going up that simple little-"
"Oh, shut up, and listen here, you hoity bitch." London snapped. The line went silent. "I'm up here with just Miss Cave, and I just had my arse kicked by some jacked-up rapist in power armour, then I had to wipe out an entire office space full of goons. The man at the top has hostages, and he can kill them any time he wants. I don't know if he's got some kind of back-up plan, whether he has more men, or what he's armed with. I've been filled with bullets and shrapnel, I've got plenty of broken bones, my cheek's ripped, I can't see out of my left eye, my clothes are practically in fuckin' pieces, and I'm runnin' on little more than the leftovers of four STR boosters I had a couple of hours ago, and pure rage." He hesitated. "Then you come here and whine that I'm irresponsible. Miss Cave and I are savin' all four of your countries from goin' through what Earth went through. This arsehole's gonna flood the economy with credits to make everythin' worthless. Tell the Oracles to start keepin' an eye on unusual stock market activity."
"...u-um...s-sure. Sorry for the sarcasm...kind of an immediate thing that I do..." Noire muttered finally. "You want our help up there?"
"Too risky," Jack said calmly. "He'll kill the hostages if he senses anything wrong. Speakin' of which, where's that rocket launcher bloke?"
"Who?" Luke asked, prompting Jack to roll his eyes.
"Is Miss IF there?" he groaned. At this point, the radio suddenly made more noise as presumably someone grabbed it and ran off with it.
Jack turned and looked around.
He could see Cave on the other end of the room, wrenching guns from corpse hands. The bodies were all heavily charred and burned.
He mentally reminded himself to be really nice to Cave when that time of the month rolled around.
Just then, the radio spoke again, this time in the chirpy tone of Neptune. "Heyyyy, Iffy!~" sang the teenage immortal. "It's your boyfriend on the phone!"
Another pause, where Jack could make out a muffled 'But I don't have a boyfriend?', followed by a 'Ohmigosh, is it Mr. Loondumb?!'.
Jack frowned, and chuckled.
Curses, friendzoned again.
"Mr Loondumb?!" Miss IF yelled. "You're still alive?! Thank GODDESS!"
"You and I both know it takes a Hell of a lot more than dyin' to stop me," he said flatly. "I've got Miss Cave with me, so I'm not alone up here, either. What happened to our RPG-waving friendo?"
"Mr. Doe?" she asked.
"Aye."
"The police just took him to the station. He's gonna be interrogated by four different secret agencies, then debriefed."
Jack grimaced. "Shite. No recon on the top floor, then."
"Nope, none. Also, the CPUs are OK."
"I know, I just spoke to them. Good job on savin' them. I owe you one."
"Oh, you owe me one, huh?"
Jack suddenly regretted his choice of words.
"Aw, shit..." he muttered.
"Listen, Lovebun, you survive all this, you'll probably be remembered as above legendary," IF cut in again. Jack heard a short rustling, and a 'be-eeep' close to the radio. "Buuut in case you don't, is there anything you wanna...y'know, get off your chest? Personal secrets, bank details, things you wish you'd said to people before your unfortunate demise, last words, anything like that?"
Jack rolled his eyes. "Miss IF, what do you want from me?"
"Nothing particular," she whistled. "But, ah, any confessions, say them loudly, so that my...uh, ears can pick them up clearly."
Jack grimaced.
"Look, whatever the collective goal of you girls is, I ain't admittin' to nothin' that would be good blackmail material if I survive all this. Cave wanted it, you want it..."
"I'd say the CPUs probably want it as well."
"They ain't gettin' it, either. Whatever. Anyway, this might well be the last time we speak." He hesitated. "Sorry about the Deagle thing. I should've made it up to you earlier, somehow."
He practically felt IF's face harden. "We don't talk about the Deagle thing. You wanna make it up to me?"
Jack glanced over to Cave, who was currently trying on one of the plate carriers that hadn't been incinerated by her attacks. "Well, sure," he replied, scratching his head. "And how would I be doin' that?"
"First of all, survive. Second, you're taking all of us girls out to dinner and giving us the answers we want."
"Well, what questions do you want answerin'?" he sighed. "If it's about the arseholes doin' this, I'll be happy to-"
"Why are you so scared of girls?"
"Oh, kiss my dick, you cheeky beggar," he groaned loudly.
Jack let go of the radio button, and put it in his pocket.
As he watched Cave trying to tighten the lower half of a black armour vest so that it could accommodate her...assets...he considered something that he hadn't considered throughout the entire tower ascent.
What if Kashuba...won?
He had good odds of beating the shit out of that Commie fuck. There was no doubt he'd kick his shit in.
But the plan that Doe mentioned...maybe he'd already run that through. Maybe by the time Jack reached him, Kashuba had somehow managed to flood the entire economy and fuck it all up irreversibly.
In all honesty, now that he thought about it...
...Jack didn't care.
The CPUs could deal with the societal fallout.
Odds were, he wasn't gonna survive very long after this was all over. Hell, he'd probably permanently die soon after putting his shoe through Kashuba's jaw.
But, of course, that didn't matter to him at this point. The girls would be really upset, sure, but he would die a hero's death. Maybe get a statue, or something.
And hey, if he did die, odds were that he could hang out with those guys in the afterlife for a while.
He narrowed his eyes at the top of the stairs, and waited for Cave to finish gearing up, keeping watch for any movement from above.
Whatever happened between him and his former commander was a long time coming.
"One-hundred-and-twenty-seven, to one," he snarled. "Let's see which number in my K/D you increase, you Russian motherfucker."