Thursday, July 20th, 2017
12:12 GMT-5 (17:12 GMT July 20th)
Zero Hour + 35 minutes
The Arctic
Beyond the buildings, out on the icepack where it was a lot colder and the conditions decidedly harsh, everyone was fighting for their very being.
Through the sniper scope, Leon studied the battlefield. She could see the enemy moving from cover to cover which in itself was a problem. There was plenty of cover, unfortunately, made up of natural ice ridges and artificial piles of snow and ice. The muzzle of her rifle moved a millimetre as she lined up a suitable target as advised by her spotter and colleague-in-arms, Songbird. The young girl had become a master at finding and identifying those who needed to die. In this case, it was just a hand, something darker than the snow upon which it rested. Leon had brought her sight to the hand and then worked up the attached arm to where she was able to settle her crosshairs upon part of a hooded head. It was not perfect but it was doable and the wind was appreciably compliant that early morning. Her mind worked automatically as it calculated the required trajectory. She had been trained by the very best and she almost never missed her target. Indeed, as she controlled her breathing and then held her final breath, she squeezed the trigger.
The .338-calibre Lapua Magnum bullet left the muzzle of the Accuracy International AWM (Arctic Warfare Magnum) at over three-thousand-feet-per-second having accelerated down the twenty-seven inch barrel. The bullet cut through the air in a parabolic arc with just a little movement to the left due to the early morning breeze. Then, just a second after the round had been fired, the section of head which had been visible, was blasted apart as the bullet passed through, tearing apart clothing, flesh, bone, and brain matter. The snow directly around the head turned a greyish-red and the bullet continued on burying itself a foot inside an ice ridge before stopping.
Not surprisingly, the head exploding in their midst galvanised the remaining mercenaries into action as they searched for where the bullet had come from. It was the wrong thing to do. A second head exploded, covering two men with hot blood and brain matter. Leon growled to herself as all the potential targets suddenly vanished from sight, not wanting to become the next one to lose their head.
"At least the blood and goo will assist with body recovery," Songbird commented as she used her spotting scope to search for more targets while Leon switched out her magazine for a full one. "I have more business for you, Leon. Left of the storage berms, down from the skiway."
Leon adjusted her muzzle angle and she focussed on a group of three men who were getting in position to ambush a squad of paratroopers who were approaching the north end of the skiway. The ambush was executed and a gunfight ensued on the ice between the six paratroopers and the three mercenaries. Slowly and methodically, she lined up her sights and began her own internal firing procedure which ultimately resulted in one of the prone mercenaries bucking slightly but then lying still, never to move again of his own accord, the bullet having destroyed his heart as it passed through his upper body. Leon adjusted a fraction of a degree and she squeezed off a second round. In the second of time it took for the bullet to arrive, the man had moved slightly as he fired at the Paras. That meant the bullet decapitated the man in an explosive strike that had the Paras cheering as they watched the snow turn red for several feet around their targets.
The third man decided it was time to leave but he only reached his knees before Leon's third bullet severed his lower torso at the waist and the two sections collapsed to the snow.
..._...
As soon as the defensive trench network had been identified and those on foot had moved into attacking the trenches, the vehicles had spread out to avoid being targeted en masse.
La Coccinelle in Tango Hotel One had turned north to allow her gunner, La Terreaur, to keep those defending the trenches from sticking their heads up to fire upon those moving to outflank the defenders. The large vehicle slid from side to side as it bounced across the ice making La Terreaur's job all the harder but it was unavoidable. The younger girl loved operating the Maximi machinegun and she whooped with joy each time she saw a body drop to her bullets. But she swore violently each time a bullet whizzed past her or struck the armoured sides of the Toyota. However, her time at the machinegun was about to come to an end as her sharp eyes were drawn to a bright flash to her right and she yelled out a warning as a rocket blazed in their direction.
"Hard right!" La Terreaur called out. "Now! Now! Now!"
La Coccinelle turned the wheel hard and the vehicle skidded around just as the rocket breezed past close enough for La Terreaur to feel the heat from the rocket engine.
"It missed!" La Coccinelle exclaimed as she turned the wheel to bring the truck back on track. "Are...?"
She never got to finish the sentence as there was a violent explosion and the vehicle's rear end was kicked out and then the entire vehicle inverted and it slid along the ice for a few feet before it crashed into an ice ridge and stopped dead.
La Coccinelle was in pain, but she knew that pain meant she was till alive. But then her mind went straight to La Terreaur.
"La Terreaur, Répondre! Répondre!"
There was no response but as La Coccinelle climbed out through the front window on the opposite side of the vehicle, she saw La Terreaur stumbling in the snow a few yards away where she had probably been thrown when the rocket had struck. La Terreaur fell to the snow, obviously stunned or wounded but the youngster was struggling to return to the vehicle despite the obvious danger of the vehicle exploding not to mention that they needed to get out of the area before the enemy arrived. But she was determined and then La Coccinelle saw why as a snowcat came barrelling in their direction. It was painted a deep blue with horizontal orange stripes just above the broad tracks. A machine-gun mounted atop the vehicle erupted into life and the snow around the two French vigilantes was peppered with bullets.
"Couvre moi!" La Terreaur called out as she ran towards their destroyed vehicle.
At first, La Coccinelle had no idea what the youngster was after but then as she fired off several bursts from her MPX-K submachine gun, she saw the girl reach into the flatbed and pull something free before leaping into the snow with her find. Then La Coccinelle understood as La Terreaur pulled open the transport container. She put the very last of her energies into pulling the device onto her right shoulder and her left thumb switched the weapon on. A little over a second passed before she could see the inbound snowcat in the sighting reticule. Then she received a tone and she squeezed the trigger held in her right hand. With a hiss, the missile was blasted from the launch container before the rocket motor then ignited and the NLAW missile accelerated to Mach 0.7 before it soon nosed over and impacted the roof of the snowcat. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the sides of the snowcat bulged outwards as the warhead detonated and the vehicle slewed to a halt with flames and black smoke billowing out of the vehicle.
By the time La Coccinelle had reached La Terreaur the young girl had collapsed into the snow beside the used missile launcher.
..._...
Inside the facility, a certain young woman was not enjoying her enforced incarceration.
Just about every piece of furniture had been destroyed and the coverings had come off the walls. The initial idea had been to find a weapon or a way to escape but then frustration had caused the nude vigilante to go to town on the entire room. However, after just six minutes of unrelenting violence, she had very little to show for herself except bruised knuckles, a bruised right heel, and a large heap of what had once been useful items.
"Any other time it would have been amusing to have recorded that little escapade. You happy now? Can I go back to sleep?"
Mindy turned to her daughter and smiled sheepishly as she pulled her jacket back into place and sat down beside the fire.
"It warmed me up," Mindy tried.
"I suppose we could use that useless wood for heat, maybe," Stephanie muttered. "Still, without clothes, neither one of us are going anywhere without freezing to death within minutes."
"Fucking Brits! Always the fucking voice of fucking reason!"
"You're welcome; somebody has to stop you damned yanks from being tossers all fucking day long. Now, if you're finished being a fucking twat, I'm trying to defrost my body after I was dumped into the motherfucking Arctic motherfucking Ocean, and I am sodding tired!"
With that, Stephanie curled up into a ball and huddled into her towel, her eyes tightly shut.
14:18 GMT-5 (19:18 GMT July 20th)
Zero Hour + 2 hours 18 minutes
The fighting was beyond intense as the opposing professional forces continued to clash.
Very little movement had been made in over two hours and most of 1 PARA was still out on the ice exchanging bullets and explosive devices with the better-trained-than-expected Axis defenders. Injuries were in double figures on both sides with the dead numbering quite high with the higher percentage being Axis dead.
However, on a more positive note, three aircraft had been destroyed.
..._...
The first aircraft to die had been an Antonov AN-74 Coaler transport which had emerged, somewhat unexpectedly, from an inflatable hanger during a heavy counter-attack by the Axis defenders who had moved out on two fronts to attack the Paras as a distraction to allow two dozen scientists invaluable to the operation to make their escape.
The roar of the distinctive over-wing engines had been heard and then the aircraft had accelerated out of the hanger onto the skiway. The Paras had moved to attack the aircraft, all while being attacked themselves. The engines roared to a deafening level as the small transport raced towards the far end of the runway, gathering speed as it went. Bullets chased after it with several striking the closed rear ramp and passing through the aluminium skin of the aircraft before burying themselves into bodies. However, the Paras called upon larger calibres which began to shred the aircraft but then one enterprising Para decided it was time to escalate – considerably – and he launched a Javelin anti-tank missile at the aircraft which had just begun to lift off but then the missile struck the right engine and detonated, setting off the aviation fuel in the wing fuel tanks which meant that the resulting explosion was several times larger than expected and the massive orange cloud of fire spread over a large distance, setting fire to several structures in the storage area to the left of the skiway.
That massive explosion had galvanised the Paras who made good use of the distraction to break the stalemate.
..._...
As for the other two aircraft, they belonged to Fusion.
Rampart had been more than a little angry when she had regained consciousness to find that she was badly bruised in places she did not care to talk about and it hurt to breathe. The whole affair had put the girl in a foul mood and her colleagues had chosen, quite wisely, to keep their distance. The trio had moved through the dome, checking out the two—storey pre-fabricated buildings as they went. Each building was nothing more than storage and basic accommodation, all of which they found after almost an hour was devoid of human life. They had then moved on and found themselves at a vehicular access opening which led through a tunnel of about eighty yards and thence up a ramp to the surface of the icepack.
Slowly, they moved out of cover and advanced up the tunnel with Rampart on the left and the other two girls to the right, with Obsidian twenty feet ahead and Nox twenty feet behind. The ramp was shallow to make it easier for heavier vehicles to move up and down which also meant that it was an easy stroll for the hyper-fit Predators. The tunnel was well-lit which none of the girls liked - their kind naturally preferring darkness – but they tolerated it and ultimately, the lights allowed them to catch sight of three men at the far end of the tunnel, seemingly deep in conversation. Their conversation allowed the three girls to close to just ten yards before they were seen and a weapon was raised in their direction. The tunnel echoed to the sound of gunfire, but then as the reverberating sound dissipated, the three girls surveyed their handywork.
All three men were dead, but Rampart noticed something: one of the men was wearing a flight suit. The young pilot looked around and then she sniffed the air; she grinned beneath her face covering as she smelt the sweet smell of aviation-grade kerosene. Then her ears caught the sound of a turboshaft engine starting up followed barely a minute later by the unique sound of twin rotor blades whipping the air into a frenzy. Rampart signalled her colleagues to move and they ran towards the exit from the tunnel where they emerged into the frigid Arctic air. Over to their left, several large shipping containers had been lined up, in two parallel lines, as a makeshift windbreak and in between were two Bell 206 helicopters, both with their main rotor blades spinning. The helicopter at the far end had its right side door open indicating that the pilot was missing – actually dead!
Rampart was in no mood for finesse, so after a brief look around, she pulled open the top of a small steel storage unit and she found what she was looking for after a very brief rummage. As she pulled out the object, the nearest Bell started to lift off and as it did so, the tail rotor kept the tail clear of the nearest steel container. Rampart, being a pilot, knew exactly what was critical on a helicopter and what was not. In the case of that Bell, the most critical component, the tail rotor, was just feet away from her. She released the large cargo strap from her hand, retaining one end and then she whirled it around her head a few times and let it fly.
For a moment, she through she had missed, but then the cargo strap was caught by the tail rotor and reeled in before the mechanism then seized as the thick cargo strap refused to break but just tightened ever further onto the tail rotor. Then the tail rotor mechanism gave way and the torque tore the tail off the Bell, causing the machine to spin out of control under the torque of the main rotor which was spinning at hundreds of revolutions per minute. Rampart then tore her eyes from the stricken helicopter and she dived to the ground followed by her colleagues.
The Bell moved forwards as it span and it collided with the tail rotor of the furthest helicopter, causing a similar incident, except that the first helicopter settled atop the second one, and both tore themselves apart, sections of composite rotor blade and aluminium fuselage flew in every direction, shredding any human-being within fifty yards who was not under cover. That was before the fuel tanks detonated and a raging fireball extended skywards to mark the demise of the expensive helicopters and the deaths of several mercenaries.
"And that, my friends, is what happens when your tail rotor fails," Rampart commented as she moved off in the only direction which was not aflame.
Nox simply shrugged as Obsidian shook her head and followed Rampart.
The main entrance to the Axis of Evil facility was arranged such that it was protected from the very worst of the weather which the Arctic could conjure up.
That placed it in the very centre of the connected structures all of which would have to be seized to reach and hold the all-important command centre. Captain McFadden and Alpha Troop were intact and uninjured. They had forced their way past the defending forces with typical Royal Marine indifference to the fighting conditions and the rapidly cooling corpses left in their wake. The four squads had paused at the north end of the Block Four which housed the administration section of the facility. The entire facility was raised four feet off the ice on steel legs sunk many feet into the ice below. That height ensured that the Royal Marines were below the level of the windows and mostly out of sight.
"Movement over near Three Bravo," a marine said to his officer as he pointed into swirling grenade smoke two dozen yards away.
"Axis?"
"Arguably worse," the marine replied darkly.
The sergeant chuckled as he recognised two teenaged vigilantes approaching, their weapons aimed wherever their eyes were. They were followed by four younger members of Fusion and then one of the adults. The seven vigilantes had sight of the troop and they rapidly covered the distance before splitting up. Stripe took up a position covering the direction from which they had come with his own section made up of Rage, Fury, Resolute, and Splinter. The remainder moved over to the captain and squatted down beside her.
"Kick-Ass," Captain McFadden said. "Arbiter."
"Captain!" Arbiter responded cheekily.
"We're heading for Block Seven," Kick-Ass advised the captain.
"We're starting with Block Four and then we're going take Block Two – the power house."
Kick-Ass nodded. The power house was crucial to the operation as they would need the electricity produced by the four generators housed within the structure. With a nod, Kick-Ass waved his team forward, moving off past the Royal Marines and making for the far end of Block Six which was used for light maintenance. From there, they would take a left and head for the vehicle workshop in Block Seven. In reality, it was not just a simple stroll through the snow as every move could prove deadly and bullets whizzed in every direction, often unaimed.
Arbiter stopped at the corner of Block Six and she looked up to where a set of steel steps led up about nine feet to a platform fitted with a small crane and a roller shutter which was large enough for snowmobiles and the like to be winched up and slid inside. There was also a standard door for those who worked in the block. It appeared that the building had a guard who was pacing back and forth on the steel platform above them. As Arbiter covered the man, Resolute moved forwards and he deftly climbed up the steel structure, avoiding the steps, arriving on the platform just as the guard had his back turned. Resolute did not hesitate as he put a single bullet into the guard's head from his suppressed Glock 19 Gen4 automatic pistol. The boy then leapt down to the snow and he waved his colleagues onward.
The target block was slightly larger than the previous block and with a large vehicular ramp which led up to two roller shutters, one 4x4-sized while the other was larger and snowcat-sized. The roller shutters were open and access was easy. Rage and Fury went first, their hands holding suppressed pistols. The guards within the workshop never heard death, nor did they see it as three men and one woman died before their bodies hit the steel floor.
The rest of the team entered and fanned out to clear the workshop which held six vehicles.
..._...
As Splinter ran past a seemingly-abandoned Mitsubishi Shogun, he paused as something caught his eye.
There was something familiar about the seemingly-discarded clothing in the open load area. He poked through the clothing and then the boy grinned to himself as he held up some familiar-ish underwear. Swiftly, he stuffed all the clothing and other accoutrements which he had also found scattered across the load area into a small pack before he moved off into the facility after his colleagues. He caught up with Kick-Ass and made him aware of his discovery. While Resolute and Fury patrolled Block Six and Block Seven, Kick-Ass, Stripe, Arbiter, Rage, and Splinter ventured into Block Ten which was connected to Block Seven via a raised tunnel which led from Block Six and Block Four. Gunfire could be heard coming from Block Four which was just a dozen yards down a short corridor from Block Seven so Fury and Resolute were important as they would ensure that nobody broke through to come up behind their colleagues in Block Ten.
Rage had point as they approached a ninety-degree bend to the right. The boy carefully checked if the area was clear by the use of a small steel mirror. He growled to himself as he turned and held up four fingers. Splinter stepped forwards to stand beside the shorter Rage and both raised their C8 CQB carbines as they stepped around the corner. The four mercenaries stood at another ninety-degree bend, this one to the left which led up some steps into Block Ten. Their carbines spat bullets in the direction of the mercenaries, two of whom dropped dead with another falling wounded but still able to fight. The fourth had leapt down the next passageway and from cover sent bullets flying down the passageway in the direction of Splinter and Rage.
The two boys dropped to the lino-covered floor and they returned fire, killing the wounded man in an instant. That just left the fourth man who was able to keep behind cover as he opened fire. However, Rage chose to bring things to a close quickly, so he reached into his jacket and pulled out a hand grenade. He pulled the pin and then rolled the device down the corridor where it came to rest at the feet of...
The man tried to yell but he had no time left as the grenade detonated.
..._...
Stephanie's eyes snapped open.
"That was a grenade – M67."
"I think it is time to join the fight," Mindy said as she straightened up and grinned. "You never know, it might be Splinter."
"Talk about embarrassing," Stephanie commented. "I have no idea how I am going to explain this."
"I have to agree," Mindy growled as she peered down at her bare legs. "Maybe..."
The door to their prison burst open and a man rolled through onto the floor, stopping at Mindy's feet. The man's eyes stared upwards and focussed on...
"Get your fucking eyes off my twat, you perverted cunt!" With that, Mindy raised her left boot and she brought it down hard on the man's throat, crushing it
Mindy swept up the man's SIG Sauer MPX and she checked the breech and magazine as other's entered the room. She raised the weapon and then grinned at her husband. "About fucking time, Kick-Ass!"
"There was this little kitty that needed rescuing, and..."
"Asshole!" Mindy growled as she gave her husband a kiss on the lips.
There was a pointed coughing and Mindy broke her kiss to look down at Splinter.
"I believe these are yours?" the boy said as he handed several items of clothing to the all but naked, Mindy.
"Thank you, Splinter."
Splinter could not help but look as Mindy began to dress – he was a boy after all. But then he turned to the other girl in the room.
"I found these," Splinter chuckled as he studied the towel-wrapped Stephanie who sat with her legs crossed.
Psyche grabbed the clothing, scowling at the boy as she fished around for her underwear and quickly pulled on her sports bra and boy shorts. Splinter watched every move and his extreme disappointment was very obvious on his face by the time Stephanie had completed dressing. However, inside, he was relieved to find that she was alive and seemingly in one piece, although she seemed disturbed about something and not herself.
Splinter had been very worried about his Psyche and still was.
..._...
Kick-Ass looked around the room, taking in the damage and destruction, figuring that the room had once been neat and tidy.
"I found the room like this," Hit Girl said, reading her husband's expression as she retied the laces on her boots. "My weapons?"
Kick-Ass dumped a canvas bag onto the floor and then smirked as his wife stowed several loaded magazines, a dozen ninja stars, six titanium throwing knives, two ASPS, two Balisongs, a fighting knife, two pistols, her communications equipment, and sundry items amongst her clothing.
"Fuck you!" Hit Girl growled as Kick-Ass chuckled.
Before long, Hit Girl was dressed, armed, and ready to fight.
..._...
When Hit Girl turned back to her daughter, she found Psyche seated on a couch with a broad grin on her face and her brother sitting next to her.
Hit Girl observed that Psyche appeared uncharacteristically happy and that she was gazing at the young male sub-lieutenant who had just examined her with a somewhat dreamy expression.
"He gave you drugs, didn't he?" Hit Girl surmised, and Psyche nodded happily.
"She'll be fine, Hit Girl," the young officer chuckled. "There should be no permanent damage from her sub-zero dunking and apart from having a foul mouth and a crude mind, she's perfectly normal."
"That's normal for her," Hit Girl confirmed. "The drugs?"
"Just some mild painkillers which should wear off in a few hours – she er, well, she asked me to marry her."
"Did she, indeed?" Hit Girl laughed as the medical officer finished packing up his equipment and left.
"He's dreamy," Psyche muttered.
"What about Splinter?"
"He's just a boy – that was a real man."
"Oh, for the love of God!" Rage hissed.
"Fucking Predators!"
..._...
Hit Girl was determined to get herself onto the scoreboard.
She was very angry after her traumatic experience, not to mention what Stephanie had been forced to endure. Speaking of Stephanie, the youngster was not much use high on painkillers, so when Victor Two Two had moved in to support the attack on the command centre, the youngster had been transferred into the care of Pyrrha who would keep an eye on the somewhat delirious girl. Hit Girl had been fully briefed by Kick-Ass on the battle situation and Hit Girl grimaced as she quickly worked out for herself that the state of affairs was decidedly mixed when it came to who was winning and who was losing the battle. Not surprisingly, Hit Girl had come up with a potential cause for the uncertain situation.
"You didn't have me fighting," Hit Girl told Kick-Ass who just shook his head and didn't even bother responding to his wife's defrosting ego.
Hit Girl followed Splinter and Arbiter out of Block Ten and through Block Seven and then Block Six where they collected Fury and Resolute – both of whom were very happy to see Hit Girl and Fury was very pleased to hear that Psyche was safe. As they passed out of a narrow corridor and into Block Four, Kick-Ass frowned at the state of the administration area, most of which was open plan – and a mess.
"You sure you've been locked up?" he asked Hit Girl as he looked around.
"Bite me!" came the pointedly angry response.
Hit Girl pushed past Kick-Ass and she strode the length of the block nodding at each Royal Marine she met before she came upon the captain who was studying a schematic of the facility.
"How goes the fight, captain?" Hit Girl asked before she was interrupted by a tannoy announcement in a voice which sounded more than a little stressed.
"Enemy troops have entered the base! Enemy troops have entered the base!"
"Bit fucking late," the captain chuckled. "I heard they found you; you okay?"
"I am but I really, really want to see kill somebody."
Captain McFadden laughed – she knew the feeling.
"The west end of the facility is in our hands and the power house is under guard. Next, we need to take the accommodation and kitchen area: Block 3." The captain lectured, trailing her finger across the schematic. "That leaves open the corridor system, here, which takes us to the bogs..."
"... and then the command centre in the armoured building known as Block One with the server farm in Block Five next door," Hit Girl finished. "You ready to show these male chauvinists how women fight, captain?"
"Excuse me!" Arbiter growled. "I'm not male or chauvinistic!"
"You're different," the captain chuckled and received a scowl in return. "Sergeant!"
"Ma'am!"
"How's it looking?" she asked the veteran marine.
"Block Three is a kill zone with upwards of forty mercenaries ensuring that anybody who sets foot in that area dies."
"I think we may be able to even the odds there," Kick-Ass commented.
"How so?" the sergeant asked, his tone one of intrigue.
"Let me dig into our bag of tricks," Kick-Ass replied. "Arbiter, get the shields."
"Yes, sir, Kick-Ass, sir!"
Kick-Ass grinned as the girl vanished.
..._...
The tactical situation was as dire as the sergeant had predicted.
Anybody who ventured into the accommodation area would be shredded by bullets and killed within a second. Hit Girl walked down the corridor and she paused where six Royal Marines were holding position at the entrance to the accommodation area in Block Three. Carefully, Hit Girl picked up a discarded piece of wood and she threw it into the open plan area which connected onto the kitchen and mess area. Almost immediately a burst of gunfire shredded the section of wood into woodchips confirming the aforementioned heavy defences. Hit Girl scowled before she turned away and headed back to Block Four.
"I think it's going to be a challenge," she said to the captain. "But only a small one."
Kick-Ass held up a Fusion lightweight shield made from a composite carbon-fibre and ceramic material, the exact composition being a Wayne Industries secret. The shield was a lot lighter than earlier versions but could stand up to a .50-calibre bullet if required. The shields were three foot in height by two wide and could be easily carried on one arm while shooting with the opposite hand. As an added bonus, it was possible to connect multiple shields together to form an all-but-impenetrable wall. Therefore, for the attack, six sets were made up of one shield mounted atop another to form a six-foot tall shield that was two-foot wide. Most importantly, each set would fit through the doorway into the accommodation block and would allow them to create a relatively safe beachhead in the enemy's kill zone.
At least that was the plan.
..._...
Six of the larger marines were picked to carry the shields into the kill zone and use their weight to hold back the expected onslaught.
They moved through the doorway, two at a time, and the very moment they stepped into the kill zone, automatic gunfire instantly ensued and bullets pounded into the stacked shields driving the marines back, but they out their strength into it and the shields moved forwards before they stopped four feet into the kill zone, the two shield sets joining together as a single unit and braced by the two marines as the second sets of stacked shields moved into the accommodation area to line up against the first sets. The gunfire from the Axis defenders was unrelenting and pummelled the shields causing the marines – and Kick-Ass – to wonder what the breaking point would be for the devices. However, the shields had allowed them to create a secure beachhead from which they could launch a proper attack once all six sets were in position and holding back the gunfire.
That proper attack consisted of several flash-bang grenades being tossed over the top of the shields as well as a smoke grenade or two for good measure. The very moment the grenades detonated in unison – or more accurately half a second after – the main assault began with the remaining eighteen men of Alpha Troop running past the shields and attacking a barricade which had been assembled out of whatever happened to be nearby – mainly chairs and desks with some steel bed frames. The first two marines spearheading the assault threw a high-explosive grenade each, up and over the barricade to ensure that the response to their assault was minimal. That allowed the eighteen Royal Marines to clamber up and over the barricade, firing their weapons downwards into the disorientated mercenaries. Two Royal Marines fell to bullets from the defenders but their colleagues simply filled the gaps and continued to fight even as Royal Navy medics followed the Royal Marines and began to treat the two wounded men.
In an attempt to outflank the Axis defenders, the combined forces of Fusion were given the task of breaking through the defences in the kitchen section. The main assault just yards away had been enough of a distraction for Kick-Ass and Hit Girl to lead from the front and assault the smaller barricade which would normally have received added protection from the main barricade which was even then swarming with Royal Marines. Bullets struck the body armour worn by both vigilantes, but they returned fire without conscious thought, gunning down anyone unfortunate enough to pass into the sights of Kick-Ass or Hit Girl. They were supported by Arbiter and Splinter who were just as merciless as their bullets struck home. Next came Rage, Fury, Resolute, and Splinter who focussed on the wider picture while their colleagues focussed on what was directly ahead of them. That involved ensuring that nobody tried to outflank their friends.
The swirling smoke from the grenades created a hazy atmosphere where it was difficult to see further than a dozen feet. Not that the veteran fighters were affected in any way as it was an environment in which they thrived. Fury and Rage moved as a team, striking at anything which popped up beyond the barricade, but then they began to climb the barricade as the senior members cleared the opposition. Naturally, Rage and Fury were good at scrambling up objects and both wanted a piece of the enemy for what had been done to their sister and friend respectively. Rage was the first of the pair to scramble into the clear, dropping down atop a bloody corpse. With Fury just a few feet behind, the pair pushed into the kitchen where they found seven mercenaries retreating towards their fallback position over towards the corridor which led out the far end of the Block Three.
"This kitchen is too clean," Rage commented.
"Let's have some fun," Fury agreed as she grasped hold of a wood-handled meat cleaver from a rack of knives. "You take the left..."
Rage opted for a large chef's knife but not before he flew a pair of smaller blades across the kitchen eliciting a yelp of pain from one of the men before the same man dropped from sight. While the seven mercenaries had initially thought that they had an easy battle ahead of them, seeing one of their number dropped so easily was not a good start. But they quickly split up and moved to intercept the pint-sized interlopers – a bad move most realised minutes later as their group was decimated. Fury knew how to make use of the meat cleaver and she swung it hard, striking deep, often threw every layer of clothing and into the flesh below. Rage was just as relentless, his chosen blades sinking deeply through clothing and deep into the soft substance beneath. The six remaining dwindled in number to five, then three, and finally as Rage dropped the penultimate mercenary, Fury found herself alone facing a brute of a man, but she did not hesitate as she raised the meat cleaver before inverting the appropriated weapon and then bringing it around down and then back up into the man's groin where the blade bit deeply into clothing and meat.
The man began to scream as Fury continued with her bloody attack and she pulled her cleaver out before reinserting it at the elbow of the arm coming down to clasp the recently mutilated manhood.
..._...
Splinter and Resolute were behind the barricade but had not ventured as far as the kitchen as they ventured into a food preparation area beyond which were the food storage areas including large commercial freezers and refrigerators.
Three women had taken refuge there from the fighting although the number might have been four considering one appeared to have died. One of the women threw a knife at Splinter which the boy easily deflected and he responded in kind as he threw his own blade which struck the woman in the upper chest. The woman grimaced with the pain but it was immediately apparent that the blade had not sunk in too deeply due the woman's arctic clothing. Resolute responded by leaping over a steel-topped preparation table and setting about the women with a combat machete. A lot of blood was split even as the women attempted to fight back against the onslaught, their fighting knives proving totally inadequate as a defence against a machete. But Splinter chose to end things quickly, as he put down one of the women with a knife to the underside of the chin and up into the brain while Resolute quite literally hacked the other two women to death.
Considering that there was nothing left in that part of the kitchen, the pair helped themselves to a packet of biscuits each and then moved off to rejoin the rest of the team.
..._...
Hit Girl entered the kitchen, following the sound of screaming, only to find Fury standing atop a corpse, a severed lower arm in one hand and a bloody meat cleaver in the other.
"I did nothing!" Fury called out as she dropped the arm and the meat cleaver.
Hit Girl laughed as she strode over to Fury and examined the various sections of body strewn across the kitchen floor.
"Each to their own, eh, Fury."
The girl simply shrugged as she stowed the appropriated meat cleaver in her webbing.