Chapter 3: Wake up call

- G&K Forward Outpost 17 -

The Commander sat at his desk, going over maps and paperwork when his personal cell rang. He pulled it out of his uniform coat pocket to check who was calling. Upon seeing the name, he looked at M3 and made a shooing motion with his hand. M3 exited the office as quietly as she could. Once she had closed the door behind her, he answered the call.

"Go." He answered curtly.

"It's time." The line clicked dead.

He gave a sigh, stood, and walked into the hallway. "M3, I have to leave for a while. Hold my calls."

"S-should I scramble the combat team?" M3 asked, trembling slightly.

The Commander frowned in annoyance at her stutter, "No, that won't be necessary."

"Y-yes sir."

He went back to his desk, grabbed his uniform cap and keys, then made his way to the garage, whistling as he walked.

- The Dead City -

A mortar round struck the building across the street, causing the building SKS was in to shudder. SKS swore as she ducked down behind the desk, and slammed another 10 rounds in with a stripper clip. She couldn't contact the team down below and SVT had been radio silent since the attack began. She had repelled the first group of enemies, but more kept coming, though a bit more cautiously. As two more Rippers tried to enter the building she pulled the bolt handle back, sending a round home. SKS stood up and fired twice, the heads of both Sangvis dolls snapping back from head shots. A Guard came in with its shield up, a Vespid directly behind with one hand on the Guard's shoulder, the other firing her rifle. SKS could feel heat wash over her face as one of the rounds just barely missed her head. SKS centered her sights on the Vespid and fired twice, the first round missed, and the second hit true, causing the Vespid to rock back and fall to the floor. The Guard continued on, firing from behind her shield, not registering her companions death. SKS felt a round slam into her left shoulder.

The rifle doll dropped her namesake, doubled over, and fell to her knees behind the desk, clutching her shoulder. She looked at her hands, slick with her own "blood".

"Not again." she groaned.

The footsteps of the guard echoed in the lobby, SKS could hear the cautious steps getting closer, she began to panic. She peeked her head up, and saw the Guard was halfway from the entrance to the desk where she was hiding, two more Vespids had entered the room and fanned out behind her, scanning for more threats.

"SVT, can you hear me?" she asked, voice cracking.

Silence.

"I hope you're not dead." She suppressed a sob, "The lobby is compromised, I'm hit, and I can't get in touch with Makarov or AK."

The silence on the comms channel was deafening. For a brief second, she was back with her old team, it was the same as before. She was injured, her friends were probably dead, and just like before it was her fault. More dead dolls because she wasn't good enough to save them. But she wasn't out of the fight yet, maybe this time, she could at least avenge them. That was something, right?

"Zavintit' yego." SKS said as she grabbed her rifle off the ground, and attached the bayonet. Screw it.

She stood back up, and started firing, one Vespid went down, then another. The rest of the rounds pinged off of the guard's shield. The bolt locked back as the last spent shell flew from her rifle. SKS let out a battle cry and lunged towards the guard who hunkered down behind her shield. SKS raised the rifle above her head, and slammed the bayonet over the top of the Guard's shield and through the center of her visor. With a spasm, the Guard let go of it's shield and weapon, and fell to the ground. After a few twitches, it stopped moving.

"Bad-ASS sister!" A cry came from the back of the room. SKS's head snapped up, her face covered in blood spray from the Sangvis doll, her shoulder and arm covered in her own. She almost broke down when she saw AK-47 and Makarov standing there unharmed, if a little confused.

SKS stumbled a bit, AK-47 ran over to catch her. "Opa, there we go, back on your feet sestra." AK-47 soothed.

SKS let go of her rifle, and started crying, "It's ok, everyone is safe." AK-47 soothed as she gave an apologetic look to Makarov.

Makarov allowed a small smile to touch her lips before trying to open up a comm link to the Forward Outpost. It rang once, twice, then, "G-Griffin and Kryuger Outpost 17."

"M3, this is Makarov of Logistics Team 2, we are in direct enemy contact and need reinforcements." She paused, took a deep breath, and continued, "We also have a Priority One discovery and need the Commander at our location before we can proceed with extraction."

A pause, "I'm sorry Miss Makarov, but the Commander has left on personal business."

Makarov suppressed the urge to swear.

"Here they come!" AK-47 called out, her and SKS had taken cover behind the desk again. Makarov turned to the double doors and saw a pair of Guards being tailed by Rippers and Vespids came pouring in. The dolls immediately opened fire.

"Is the combat team with him?" Makarov asked sharply.

"N-no, they're still on standby, s-should I send them to your location?" M3 stammered.

The building gave another shudder as a mortar round hit the roof. Surprisingly, it held.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble." Makarov snapped.

She cut off the transmission and opened another one to SVT, but there was no answer. A round from a Ripper struck near her feet. She raised her pistol and fired until the offending SF doll went down. They needed help now, and they needed someone to take tactical command or her team was done for, and there was no way she was going to let that happen.

"AK, SKS, hold the line." Makarov ordered.

AK-47 was in the middle of changing magazines as she shot Makarov a cheerful grin, "Da, this is our Stalingrad, we'll stop them here!" She exclaimed cheerfully.

Makarov nodded, sprinted back towards the tunnel and down into the darkness. She hoped it would end a little better than Stalingrad.

SVT could remember better days. She had found a squad of Jaegers setting up around a Jaguar mobile mortar unit on the roof of an adjacent building and engaged them. She had taken out three of them before one had scored a lucky hit to the right side of her head. The hit had caused a hard reboot of her systems as it tried to cope with the damage, and didn't know how long she had been out.

She groaned, opened her eyes, and realized she could only see out of her left eye. Her hand went to rub her right eye, only to find a deep ravine gouged along the right side of her head.

"Outstanding." She muttered.

She pulled herself up and looked around for her rifle. She found it, hauled herself to a sitting position, and started looking for the Jaeger. She heard a boom, followed by a whistle, they hadn't moved at all. She went prone and shouldered the rifle to her left shoulder and clicked her tongue in displeasure. She could shoot off hand, but that didn't mean she liked it.

As SVT set her sights on the Jaguar, her vision filled with static and started getting wavy, she smacked the side of her head once and everything snapped back into focus. With a sigh, she re-sighted the Jaguar. The two remaining Jaegers finished reloading the launcher. She took aim and fired. The 7.62x54r round flew true and struck at the pivot point where the launcher connected to the body.

Sparks flew; she must have damaged a launcher tube as the entire unit detonated, with the remaining rounds cooking off, taking the two Sangvis snipers with it. SVT slumped back down over her rifle and let out a chuckle while she gave it an appreciative pat. She then closed her remaining eye and went to sleep.

"No, I don't think it's weird to be in love with someone who's never talked to you, why do you ask?" Nagant was talking to 9A-91 as Makarov stormed back into the lab.

"Oh, Makarov, what's going on up there?" The handgun asked.

Makarov made her way to the pod and stared hard at the face of the man within.

"Before, you said he was a soldier?" Makarov asked without preamble.

9A-91 nodded, "Yes, a good one too, if his friend was to be believed. He was a part of an elite army unit in the west, though I've forgotten which one, and was handpicked for a mission within the city before it fell."

Makarov continued to stare, "How did he end up like this?"

"The Soviets attacked the building above, his friend dragged him here. The lady with the ears fixed him, she said she made him...better." Came the reply, Makarov noted the hesitation with the last remark.

Makarov finally nodded slowly, "Wake him up."

"Eh?" 9A-91's face twisted into a mix of confusion and excitement.

"We're under attack up there, and our Commander can't be bothered to help us," she motioned the pod, "He's going to be our Commander for the time being." She leveled her gaze at the confused doll, "Wake. Him. Up. Now."

9A-91 nodded and set to work, oddly enough she began humming cheerfully.

Nagant grabbed Makarov by the shoulder and gently turned her around, her eyes hard, "How bad is it up there? How are my cousins?"

Makarov brushed Nagant's hand off lightly, "Nothing serious yet, I suspect a scouting party stumbled onto us, but they have a mortar set up, and I can't get a hold of SVT. I imagine the real attack is about to start, if it hasn't already."

Nagant's demeanor changed abruptly as she clapped her hands, "Well let's go up and show them the skill of a true veteran!"

Makarov shook her head, "Nyet, you stay down here and help our new friend wake up Sleeping Beauty over there."

"I can handle it by myself." 9A-91 said, her voice both quiet and defensive.

Makarov shook her head, "Fine, we need every gun upstairs anyway. Nagant come with me, 9A-91, open his tomb and bring him back to life."

9A-91 gave a determined nod of her head and set to work as Makarov and Nagant ran out of the room. She pushed a button on the pod, causing it to tilt backwards until it was horizontal, then started the process of waking him up.

Owen stood in the ruins of a crumbling city. His weapon was gone, burning wrecks of tanks, vehicles, and helicopters surrounded him. The smell of death hung in the air. He looked around for his squad mates but could find no one at all.

He walked a bit before he couldn't stand the silence, and called out, hoping someone would answer.

No one did.

He blinked and suddenly he was standing in a moonlit field, with bodies strewn about as far as the eye could see. Upon closer inspection the bodies weren't human, but looked like T-Dolls. One reached a weak, trembling, hand towards him, tears in her eyes. She was saying something, but he couldn't hear what. Instinctively he tried to grab it but as he got close the doll turned to smoke.

He blinked again and he was transported back to the ruined city, but there was no wreckage this time.

"I've got to be dreaming." He said, then he pinched himself, it hurt. That confused him.

"Can you hear me?" A muffled voice called out.

Owen spun around, but no one was there.

"I can hear you, where are you?" He called back.

"Please, wake up."

He suddenly felt himself be thrown from the world and into complete darkness, then he opened his eyes.

"Come on Mr. Owen, please wake up. We need your help. Owen, can you hear me? Wake up!"

Owen's eyes snapped open and the first thing he saw was a female face, inches away from his own, studying him intently.

"Uhhh, hi?" He said hesitantly.

"Hello." She replied, not blinking, or moving out of the way, if anything, she leaned in closer.

His eyes snapped down to his naked body, then back up to her face, "Sooo... what's happening here?" He asked, as he covered himself with his hands.

Her face suddenly blushed a crimson red, and the woman scurried back away from the table, she threw her hands up to cover her eyes, but accidentally smacked herself in the face. She muttered something unintelligible as she tried to cover her eyes again.

'She seems well adjusted' he thought to himself as he sat up with a groan.

He looked around the room, and saw that he was alone with the mystery girl. As he looked around, everything became blurry and he blinked a few times.

Ocular calibration in progress flashed across his vision.

"What the..."

He blinked again and the room snapped into sharp focus, the words disappearing immediately after.

Owen shook his head, swung his legs off of the table, and stood, his body felt stiff and heavy. He swayed a bit as the room started spinning. He tried to stay perfectly still until the spinning stopped. He groaned again.

"Are you ok?" The mystery girl asked, concern in her voice.

He nodded, then tried to take a step forward, he fell face down and let out another groan.

+Motor function calibration in progress+ flashed across his vision.

He stood back up and put his hands on his knees, and kept his head down. Mystery Girl took a step towards him, but he held up a finger to stop her.

"Just...give me a second here." He told her, then he vomited.

+Calibration In Progress+ kept flashing behind his closed eyelids.

After a few minutes of lying on the floor, Owen finally felt like he could stand again. Once he was on his feet, he gave himself a few seconds to prepare for his body to betray him more. Nothing happened. He took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled, before turning to the beret wearing, white haired, mystery woman who hovered just a few inches out of his way. Watching his every move. His mind raced as he tried to recall what had happened before he passed out. The last thing he remembered was the fighting in the city, a sniper, and a Hind blowing him up. He had lots of questions.

"So," he began conversationally, "what's your name?"

The mystery woman straightened her back, a proud look in her eye, "I am an IOP Tactical Doll, unit designation 9A-91. Currently head of defensive operations of Project Phoenix." She faltered a bit, voice quieting back down, "er... actually, I'm the only person left I think."

Owen nodded and held out his hand, she studied it, before timidly grasping it on her own, "Hello Nines, I'm Sergeant Owen, US Army. Nice to meet you."

He let go of her hand, she gazed at it in awe a bit, before he cleared his throat, "So, now that introductions are out of the way, where's my pants, actually," he looked her over, "where are your pants?"

She tried to explain to him that she had been down there for ten years, and that pants weren't really necessary for a T-Doll, especially one left all alone, but all that came out was a jumbled mess. So, instead she just motioned for him to follow as she led him to the changing room, which was full of dark grey combat uniforms. He found a set that fit, and after confirming that Nines had stepped outside, quickly got dressed. No sooner than he had buttoned the last button did she appear.

"We have to move quickly, they need our help upstairs." She told him.

"Who's they?" he asked, "Is it DuLaney?"

"Who?" She asked, puzzled.

Owen shook his head, "Nevermind, are there any weapons around?"

Nines nodded enthusiastically, "We have a fully stocked armory," Her face fell, "We never found your rifle though. I'm sorry, to lose your rifle like that...it's..." she frowned, searching for the right word, "plokhoy, bad."

He patted her shoulder, trying to calm her down, "It's ok, I'll make do with a different one."

She led him to the armory and opened the doors. He whistled as he saw rows of weapons sitting in racks. All well maintained, and ready to go. As Owen looked, he noticed most of the weapons were M16A4s. A few racks had an assortment of weapons at random. When he commented on this, Nines wrung her hands and tried to mumble something.

"They belonged to my friends." Was all she could say.

Owen looked at one M16 that had a boxy heat shroud and, sure enough, an underslung M203 grenade launcher.

He lifted it off the rack and inspected it, "Are there grenades for these?" He asked.

Nines nodded and retrieved an ammo can marked 40mm, and opened it up, revealing a full can of linked grenades. He nodded and ops checked his weapon, he was a little surprised to find the bolt carrier group was shiny and new. As he gave a closer inspection, it looked like the weapon had never been fired at all. He mentioned as much to Nines.

Nines gave a small shrug of her shoulders, "I thought someone was coming back for us. I cleaned and sighted every single rifle here to help pass time, after a month, I realized we were abandoned."

"Well," he joked, "at least I had good company."

He didn't know why, but that seemed to please Nines. Her face lit up in a smile and she told him not to move while she got him a vest and ammo, then dashed off.

As he was waiting for her to return, he noticed a shotgun sitting in the corner of the armory, half hidden behind a weapons rack. He walked over, picked it up, and let slip a tiny giggle.

Things weren't going well for Makarov or her team. Vespids, Guards, and Strikers were pouring into the building. Makarov was forced to retreat into the maintenance area of the garage. SKS and AK-47 were provided covering fire while Makarov tried to figure out their next move when the soldier arrived.

As SKS loaded her last clip into her rifle, panic began to completely take hold. They had been doing so well, but the enemies just kept coming. She brought her rifle up, and heard Makarov shout something to her. She turned to see what was going on, and saw a man standing in front of the hidden entrance, holding a rifle with a grenade launcher attached, and aiming it at her. She gave a small gasp and ducked, as soon as she did, she heard the thwump of a grenade being launched, followed by a small detonation and the sound of her EMP proximity alarm going off.

- Five minutes prior -

"So how many dolls are there?" Owen asked as he made some final adjustments to his gear while they walked, he tried to ignore the skeletons that littered the floor. Instead he loaded shells into his new Winchester 1897 he found in the armory.

"Three that I know of, and they spoke of two others." Nines answered.

"And you're all named after guns?"

Nines nodded, and the pair walked in silence.

"They're not going to kill me are they?" Owen asked.

Nines shook her head, "No, as I've said before, they were the ones who requested you be revived."

"Because they're getting overrun, and about to get their shit pushed in by a technologically and numerically superior force." Owen clarified.

"Not the most polite way to say that, but yes."

Owen shrugged as they stepped over a pile of skeletons, 'you don't know them, they're probably Russians', he thought.

'Or it's DuLaney and the Ukrainian team, they died trying to save you. Take a look, this is the grave you've made for them'

'Oh boy, it's going to be one of those days.'

Owen sighed, which caused Nines to glance at him. Owen gave her a strained smile, "I don't know if waking me up was the best decision."

The sounds of a firefight filtered down from a set of steps at the end of the hall. Owen sprinted towards them and left Nines alone with a smile on her face, "I think it's the best decision I've made since I was stuck down here." She said to herself before running after him.

Just before he hit the stairs, Owen slammed an EMP grenade into the launcher on his M16. Once he got to the top he looked around and saw a group of what he assumed were dolls huddled behind a set of old sandbags directly in front him, a short, white haired doll holding a Makarov pointed to him, then at a group of dolls pushing towards them from a doorway. Owen nodded and patted the barrel of his M203.

The short doll turned to yell at her comrades to get down as Owen fired the EMP grenade at the group he was directed towards, and watched as they went stiff and fell over as their circuitry fried. As he rushed forward from the entrance of the tunnel he loaded another grenade, two Rippers came through the doorway, shields in front, weapons firing. Owen fired as he moved. The two dolls dropped with three round groupings in their heads as he slammed down next to the pink haired doll holding an SKS.

"Hey, what's up?" Owen asked casually, as he pulled a grenade out of a pouch on his vest.

SKS looked at him with a mix of fear and disbelief. He turned to face her as he pulled the pin, a cocky grin on his face, "Don't worry, I've done this loads of times."

He pulled the pin on the grenade and chucked it over the sandbags, "Frag out!" He called.

The grenade bounced off of the ground and rolled just behind a group of Vespids before it detonated. Shrapnel tore through Vespids, killing some, and wounding more. Owen and the other dolls made quick work of the survivors. Owen leapt over the bags, and ran across the garage bay to the office door and peeked in, once he saw it was clear he gave the team a thumbs up.

He walked back to the dolls and stood in front of the sand bags. Nines gave him a look he couldn't quite figure out, and the short doll who he had pegged as the leader of this group gave him a curt nod, "You helped save my team, spasibo."

"Don't mention it." Owen replied, "I had nothing else going on, figured I'd do my good deed for the day."

Before Makarov could reply, the large roll up garage doors behind Owen rolled...up. Sunlight poured in and briefly blinded everyone inside.

"Strikers!" someone yelled.

Owen squinted into the sunlight and saw three dolls standing before them, holding massive weapons that started humming.

"Uh oh."

On reflex, Owen raised his rifle and fired three round bursts until the bolt locked back. The new dolls soaked up the rounds, took a second to adjust their aim at the closest target, then fired on Owen. He could hear the air sizzle around him as beams of energy flew past. He unslung his shotgun and sprinted towards the three heavy units. There was a brief pause as the Strikers readjusted their aim.

"Cyka, he's fast!" AK-47 yelled as she opened fire.

Owen ran towards the Striker in the middle, raised the Winchester, and pumped round after round into its face, the Striker unit fell back, smoke rising from its face just as the shotgun clicked dry. Owen dropped it, raised the M16 at a Striker's face, and fired a grenade. He was too close for the grenade to arm and he knew it, but if a 40mm grenade smacks you in the face point blank, even a killer android is going to feel it. The Striker's head snapped back and the unit stumbled backwards. Owen took advantage of this and picked up the middle Striker's weapon and...realized he had no idea how to use it.

A hum from behind was all the warning Owen got before the unharmed Striker fired. He hit the deck just as beams streamed overhead and ripped through the Striker that was still trying to shake off a 40mm bitch slap. Owen frantically yanked a grenade from his pouch, pulled the pin, and rolled it between the legs of the remaining Striker before he used the middle Striker's body as a synthetic meat barrier.

The grenade detonated with a whump, but Owen didn't move until he heard the final Striker collapse to the ground. He rose shakily to his feet, and turned to look at the dolls, he gave a weak grin.

"See, too easy." He said as he took a step forward...and collapsed on his face.