Warnings: short chapter, and I'm terrible at writing action.
Chapter Twenty-One
The thing about simple plans is that they are more likely to stay on track. Large, complicated, radical plans often have too many factors that are too uncertain for it to be a worthy risk.
As most plans went, Elizabeta Héderváry found their plan almost risk-less, not counting the fact that they were facing down at least a hundred trained Underworld soldiers and were very likely to get killed. But that aside, the only risk was Lukas Bondevik.
Because Gilbert was right: locking Lukas in a room in the Underworld base did not ensure his survival, only that his body would remain intact and not, say, blown to bloody smithereens or cut into gruesome tidbits.
But the fate of Lukas Bondevik was more or less out of their control until Francis managed to shut down or gain control of all systems in the Danish base. Before that, they could only pray that their rescue plan was not for naught.
"I feel like we need an evacuation plan," Francis muttered as their unseemly group of six made their way down the streets of Taastrup towards a modern, metal-and-glass building in the distance, which Elizabeta had pointed out as the Danish base.
"Not really. Either we die, or the others die. Evacuation plan complete."
Francis leveled a narrowed look at Elizabeta. "One would not have expected Magyar to be such a simple-minded woman."
Magyar responded with a dazzling smile. "We can always add you to the body count. I wouldn't mind."
The hacker looked away, hefting his computer bag over his shoulder and wisely choosing not to respond. He was, after all, not as heavily armed as Elizabeta. In fact, no one here was, and that pleased her to impressive lengths.
What irked Elizabeta the most, however, was their lack of the element of surprise. She always found corpses with expressions of shock and fear quite amusing.
But morbid thoughts aside, just because the Underworld base was expecting their arrival didn't mean that they wouldn't be able to arrive with fashion. A battleaxe was a dramatic weapon, and always very entertaining to see in action. And Mathias Køhler wielded it well.
The Viking, indeed.
The streets were suspiciously deserted; the Underworld had probably arranged it, mainly to avoid people calling the cops on them, not really to protect the lives of normal citizens. Even so, Elizabeta was grateful for the isolation. It meant that they had more liberty to wreck havoc.
And wreck havoc they did.
Gilbert and Elizabeta had gone in first, slipping from the sides and managing to slit several throats of the guards outside before alarm was sounded, and then Mathias charged in, smashing open the bullet-proof glass doors of the Underworld base with a single, well-placed blow of his axe.
With the doors down, everything was unleashed, chaos spilling and Elizabeta thought it was nothing less than a miracle that they made it into the building at all.
The moment they got past the first hallway, Gilbert and his two friends disappeared, heading upstairs towards the system control room while Elizabeta, Mathias, and Lovino cut their way towards the underground levels.
Well, Elizabeta and Mathias did the cutting. Lovino did the swearing, terrified-screaming, and trying-not-to-get-killed.
Her earpiece crackled. Gilbert's voice came, slightly warped by the bad connection. "We're on the second floor."
"We're going in," Elizabeta replied, and then Lovino placed a hand on her shoulder, grabbed Mathias by the arm, and transported them several meters down the hallway. Her earpiece whined, as if it didn't like the unnatural treatment. The Underworld soldiers whom they had been fighting a second ago turned, utterly baffled; Elizabeta stuck her dagger into the gut of the nearest guard, Mathias decapitated two heads with a single mighty swing of the axe, and then the world dissolved again into a blur of colors.
The three landed heavily on the first floor beneath the ground floor. Elizabeta's earpiece whined again, then went silent completely. Hopefully it was because they were underground and the connection was shit, and not because the other side was dead.
The Danish base had not dedicated much space for the underground, which was why Lovino had not been able to transport them directly inside. A surprising piece of luck for the Danish Underworld base, but not enough to hinder the Magyar and the Viking (and a lab experiment) together.
The hallway they arrived in appeared deserted for the first second of their awkward, knee-buckling landing, but in the next second, both ends of the hall was blocked by a wall of guns.
Lovino made a very logical inquiry. "How are they supposed to mow us down without mowing the other side down?"
"Bullet-proof shields?" Mathias suggested.
"Go right!" Elizabeta shouted, pointing at one impenetrable wall of defenses. Several of the guards looked startled to be singled out by Magyar, who was practically a celebrity. Under different circumstances, perhaps just two weeks ago, she might have offered to autograph their guns.
Lovino grabbed his companions and jumped, and then they were suddenly behind that wall of machine guns.
"Convenient," was Elizabeta's comment, and then they were sprinting. Outrunning bullets was always such a pleasant affair.
"This way!" She made a rapid right turn, followed by a left. Almost casually, Mathias wielded his battleaxe and Magyar displayed her array of knives and guns, leaving behind a trail of bodies.
Thank goodness the underground level of the Danish base was neither vast nor complicated. Elizabeta couldn't believe that a year ago she had tried to get it expanded; she had never been so grateful that she had decided that it was not worth it.
"It's this room."
They stopped. Before them was a door just like all the other doors they had passed: metal, thick, with an identification pad next to it but no handle.
"Did those assholes get into the system yet?" Lovino wondered offhandedly.
Elizabeta wondered as well, wondered briefly if Gilbert was still alive, but it didn't matter. There was a reason for Lovino, and it wasn't just for his convenient transportation abilities.
Well, it was for his convenient transportation abilities, only it had not been for getting down hallways.
It was for getting past locked doors.
"I'll stand guard," she said, as footsteps began to echo in nearby halls. "Get in and get him out."
Lovino took Mathias by the arm, stepped, and disappeared.
And then they reappeared again, not one second later, coughing and choking with expressions of utter horror.
"The air..." Mathias gagged, and Elizabeta understood. She understood with her heart dropping like a stone and grief piercing her like a bullet. Such a simple plan, with such minimal risk factors... and yet, now that she thought about it, with the most devastating risks. Simple plans were straightforward, so they were one path to the end or complete destruction.
This was coming close to a sort of destruction.
Mathias grabbed Lovino. His words came out ragged and desperate. "Take me back inside. Inside and out. One second."
Lovino was too busy coughing to reply, but he nodded, and the two heaved a deep breath, and disappeared once more.
One second.
And then they were back. They were back, no longer two, but three.
Elizabeta could not bring herself to look. She focused instead on the guns that had appeared at the end of the hall. She braced herself, and then she felt a touch on her wrist, and then the guns were no more than a blur of dark color, flowing down away from her.
She didn't realize how much brighter and how much fresher the air was on the ground floor until they were there again. Her earpiece screeched into life—much to her relief—and in between bouts of static, Gilbert's voice came frantically.
"...got inside... late! It's too... Liz! Those bastards did it way before we arrived!"
"We got him!" Elizabeta reported instead. "We're getting out now. Get out!"
The guards they had left behind faced them again. This time, they had additional weight and an exhausted Lovino.
Elizabeta pulled the first trigger, emptied a round of shots, withdrew a knife, twisted past bullets and danced into warm blood and death. Mathias had their prize slung over one shoulder, moving with somewhat difficulty though still efficient enough. Lovino was good at evading and running away, though he seemed too tired to scream and swear, but he managed to grab the others and make a final leap—out the doors of the Danish base.
And it seemed like they were not the only ones who had leapt. There was a crash and a shower of glass, and then three battered men were rolling ungracefully to a stop near Elizabeta's group.
Antonio, looking quite out of his element with a machine gun slung over his shoulder, pulled Francis to his feet as Gilbert shook glass out of his hair.
"Let's get out of here!" the albino called.
Antonio and Francis agreed. "Evacua—"
"No," said Mathias.
The others turned to stare at him as soldiers spilled out to greet the group of rebels with an array of weapons ready to decimate.
"No evacuation plan," the Viking said. His voice was impassive, cold. Magyar had not heard that voice in three years. The voice of a killer. "Either we die, or they die."
Carefully, he placed their retrieved hostage on the ground next to Lovino. He hefted up his battleaxe—Antonio sighed—Gilbert grinned—Magyar laughed—
And then the Danish Underworld base exploded into a whirlwind of flames.
Antonio pocketed the control switch with a grim smile. The soldiers who had not been inside the building during the explosion gawked, and Magyar's smile widened.
Yes, those. Those were the expressions that she had been looking for.
Corpses with expressions of shock were always so entertaining.
Sorry for the really late update, but I'll try to push through before summer comes!
Please review!