Colonial Natural Resources Department Earth and Luna Headquarters
Vancouver, Canada, URNA
November 12, 2557
Pine did not hesitate to immediately highlight all of the guards patrolling the main room from his position on the adjacent roof. Beside him, Bowman was relaying the information to Austal, who agreed to breach on the first shot.
Despite a wall and door blocking his vision, Austal knew the formation of how the nine gunmen inside were, all avenues of approach were impossible, even with his cloaking as it had lots of open space that could still reveal him as he covered it. Thankfully his comrades were now lending a hand of their own hundreds of feet away.
"I have a visual on Gustafson." The sniper reported.
"Understood." Austal complied, "I'm ready to breach on your shot."
"I'll take out the ones closest to the hostages." In his invisible appearance, Pine found it hard to remember seeing where his limbs were in terms of inserting massive 14.5x114 rounds. The bullets were derived from an ancient Soviet high caliber weapon called the PTRS. This weapon punched straight through shields, body armor and it made a complete mess out of what flesh it bore through.
He slapped the magazine inside his rifle and yanked the handle, settling on the concrete edge of the building for a stable firing position. His scope relayed the targets all highlighted to his HUD which in turn was shared with the other Spartans. He shifted his weapon, centering the crosshairs on his first victim.
With the shot confirmed, Austal's HUD saw a long red line with PR, Ross Pine's weapon, meaning that particular gunman was straight in his sights.
"The wind's only five heading in a southeastern." Bowman said, "Shouldn't affect your shots that much."
Ross snorted, "Yeah, except a certain someone forgot to tell me I needed a suppressor. Not only that, but you have to take in any movements your target has, his armor, the density of the glass on the other end and don't get me started on the Corilois effect."
"I get it." Bowman replied in an annoyed manner, "You snipers have a language of your own."
"You Army people don't?"
"Do I look like I speak sniper?"
"No."
Bowman gave Pine an eye roller, "Fortunately, I don't. However, I speak three other languages; English, Spanish, Japanese and Arabic."
"I guess that makes Austal the only one out of us four that can speak French."
"I guess so." Bowman brought the optics to his helmet once again. "Austal, you ready."
"Oui captaine. Ready on your shot."
Pine's finger tightened on his trigger. Through the window, Bowman saw two of the gunmen standing up to one another, their body language reflecting anger. They were clearly in some sort of argument because they drew Gustafson's attention. The notorious terrorist apparently set them straight because he spoke a few words and separated them from one another.
That was the thing. Hostage situations usually got worse for the perpetrators the longer they lasted. Same could be said about the hostages themselves.
Bowman saw something in one of the gunmen's hand that had been arguing earlier.
"Hold your fire."
Pine's finger was merely ounces away from discharging a round.
"What the hell is the holdup?" Austal demanded, "I can tell that the situation is getting very bad here. Those hostages won't last much longer."
"That guy over there." Bowman pointed, "Look."
Pine followed his gaze which in turn led Bowman to see the door that Marcus was behind. "Oh shit."
"Austal, we have a problem."
He groaned, "Yes Houston?"
"Gustafson's got breaching charges on the door opposite you. As soon as it's open, you'll be stunned."
"How is that supposed to stop me?"
Bowman cut in, "You're a Spartan and the police do not want anybody needlessly risking themselves. Maximum amount of people returned alive."
"Captain, we're risking our lives everyday not only to protect the innocent, but those we care about."
Ross aimed his sniper downrange once again, "Austal, I've got an idea. Get ready to breach."
"No." Bowman protested, "We're going to find another way."
"There isn't another way!" Austal snapped back, "We wait any longer and it might be too late for some! Ross, execute!"
A millisecond later, Ross' finger tightened on the trigger, causing the rifle to shoot straight out a massive tungsten bullet to nearly instantly head straight for his intended target, the gunman holding the breaching charge detonator.
The armor vest that he was wearing did nothing to protect him as the round easily sliced through the entire way of his chest cavity. He had no time to scream or react, it was instant death.
Bowman, now aware of the plan began calling out numbers and other terms. While to normal people, they seemed to be random gibberish, the Spartan sniper knew exactly what he was saying.
Pine fired a second round a moment after the first one, now aware that the gunmen inside were all in a state of confusion, but that would only be a temporary thing.
Off to the side, Marcus stood a good ten feet back from the entrance as Pine's bullet came in at an oblique angle, making a neat little hole in the glass window and hitting the breaching charge, setting it off.
It exploded in a brilliant white light, blinding anyone who didn't cover their eyes.
Rushing to the door, Marcus swatted aside whatever remained intact from either the bullet or the charge and made his entrance.
Although it probably wasn't a wise idea to wield an M57 and his pistol in one hand each, he knew it would offer greater firepower. An additional perk was that he would look like a total badass.
He was dimly aware of Ross' third shot taking off the legs of a second bad guy when he spotted the majority of them raising their own weapons. Gustafson among those.
Three of them were heading straight for the hostages to use them as human shields, so Austal's carbine went full auto, spitting out half a magazine. Two of them went down instantly, dropping their rifles in response to the holes in their chest. The third scrambled behind cover before he could kill him too.
To his right, Gustafson also dove for cover, reacting much quicker than Austal expected. The two men beside him weren't so lucky. His pistol discharged two rounds, placed neatly in their foreheads.
Six down, three to go.
The third terrorist that Austal had targeted earlier saw that he was seemingly distracted and began to pull a suited man from the hostage group as a human shield. Unsheathing his knife, he thrust his palm out with the blade in hand. The knife sailed through the air like a dart, lodging itself in the gunman's neck just a couple of inches away from the hostage shield.
Austal slid into cover, just as the remaining three opened fire on him. His shields absorbed the bullets, crackling down to three quarters.
"Flank him." Gustafson ordered.
Marcus activated his camo.
The second one of them realized he wasn't there; he lunged out of his hiding spot, the invisibility deactivating mid-act. The gunman didn't have time to raise his own weapon. Austal grabbed him by the throat and sent him away with a devastating right cross to the face. He crumpled down a good three meters away, unmoving.
Gustafson's last henchmen saw all the carnage that had been done to all of his comrades and promptly raised his hands in surrender, the MA2B rifle dropping to the floor from his hands.
Austal proceeded to break his nose for good measure.
Suddenly, he felt his shields flare up. Gustafson had picked up one of the fallen rifles and let a stream of fire in his direction. Now the alarm in his suit was beginning to whine as his generator struggled to recharge them back to their full strength.
"Drop it Spartan!" Gustafson shouted, "NOW!"
Austal's shields had recharged by now. He shut off his camo and rose from his position.
Now he managed to get a good look at Gustafson, the first time he met the man that indirectly steered his life away from that of what it was originally planned.
The nasty scar that ran across his forehead already made him a terrifying figure. He had longer blond hair that was kept in check by an optical headband and icy blue eyes that burned with hatred. He had a sturdy build, all concealed by the rough black combat fatigues.
Had he not been a notorious terrorist, he would have looked like a professional spy that starred in Holo-movies. The big, tall battle-scarred person. One with an empty soul that claimed many lives and ruined even more.
Austal's included.
Gustafson's second arm had a pistol and it was pointed directly at the hostage group he had rounded up during their initial attack. Their gazes transferred from man to man as they watched the one versus one showdown.
Marcus' M57 was somewhere in the carnage and his pistol was his sole armament at the time. He raised it out of his holster and laid it on the floor.
"Now kick it to me."
His boot shut down as the weapon skidded towards him.
"Smart move, the police made, sending Spartans up just as I asked." He moved over towards the hostages, not taking his aim off them. "You know, there's a particular reason why. You see, many of my previous clients, whom I had very strong bonds with were wiped out by your kind. In a sense, you took something from me. Now I've been paid to do something more than just a typical takeover."
"Let's not forget there are two sides to this story." Austal coolly shot back, "You also took something from me."
"Look." Gustafson reached behind his back and pulled out a clawlike object, holding a handle between his fingers, "I'd love to have a friendly chat about loss, but if I took something from you it wasn't personal."
Inside his suit, Marcus felt anger start to flare up. Gustafson was trying to play mind games with him, but he still had one advantage.
He reached over, the pit dropping in his stomach.
Where was his throwing knife?
"You're looking for your hidden weapon?" He chuckled, "Then this makes it a lot easier."
He brought the plasma pistol to bear, already glowing bright green from an overcharge. Releasing the trigger, the orb of electromagnetic plasma automatically locking onto his signature.
Particularly hated by Spartans, the T-25 DEP, or Plasma Pistol was the standard sidearm for the Covenant. Usually wielded by the lesser species of Unggoy, Kig-Yar and Yanme, it alone posed a little threat. However it held one particularly dangerous feature.
If the wielder held down the trigger like Gustafson had, it would eventually overcharge. Although this would deplete the battery quicker, it proved devastating to vehicles, temporarily knocking out electronics and immobilizing it.
Similar effects were against shielded targets as well. The Spartans' shield would instantly overload, thus making them more vulnerable to attack. The Covenant used this feature to their advantage, shown more prominently used by their more experienced cannon fodder.
Marcus was in motion the second the overloaded charge hit his shield, effectively shorting it out. Gustafson didn't let up, opening fire with his pistol as he vaulted behind cover.
As he moved upwards, Marcus crouched, waiting for the right moment.
Exploding from his hiding place, he swung his arm around, easily batting aside the pistol that was going to be used to kill him.
Gustafson retaliated with an elbow that merely dazed him inside his armor. Austal dodged his second blow with him using the butt of the plasma gun. Still a bit small for an average Spartan, Austal's larger frame dove low and crashed into Gustafson like a defensive end going after a quarterback. They tumbled through one of the office desks and the blond ended up slumped against one of the portable gray walls of a cubicle.
Seeing the eerie green glow, he came to his senses.
Staring at the muzzle of the plasma pistol that the Spartan had to his face.
Major Boost could only gawk in surprise as the lone Spartan emerged from the lobby one hand firmly on Gustafson's left bicep. His hands were bound by metal wire and his face had a bruise from that tangle he had with the Spartan. The police surrounding the building were still trying to ward off onlookers and reporters who had come to witness the event. At least they had some good news in that the crisis had been averted.
She looked closer and saw that he was very slightly limping. Looking even closer, she saw that the right part of his stomach was bleeding from a gunshot. No doubt an injury suffering from a gunfight. Despite the wound, Austal still moved like he had plenty of fight left inside.
"Spartan." The major greeted, casting a dark glare at his accomplice.
"Major." Austal gave her a nod. "All tangos flushed out."
"Understood. Let's get that wound of yours patched." She waved over a couple more officers, but he stopped her, "That's a negative, I'm fine. The 37th is keeping him for the time being."
"None of this comes by me. Who gave you that power?"
"I did."
The three of them turned to a holotank underneath a white canopy. Now displayed was a Spartan in full GEN2 armor of the HAZOP version.
"Major, this is codename Tyrant, commander of the Spartan 37th Special Shock Divison." Austal introduced.
"Pleased to meet you Major." Tyrant said, with a grin behind the visor, "I take it my boy did his job well?"
"Whatever it was, I had no idea."
"Don't flatter yourself. Always count on one of my teams to get the job done. Least you could do is get in their way." He chuckled, "If you do impede them, there's not much I can do to save you."
"Is there something I don't quite understand here?"
"You've been kept out of the loop for the majority of this hostage crisis, since only a handful of people in various intelligence and law enforcement agencies know the newly discovered true nature about this raid."
"Bowman and the others are on their way to take care of it now." Austal added, "Tyrant and I will be escorting Gustafson here to Reach where he will face trial for his crimes."
The terrorist looked like he was about to say something when one of Boost's officers came over, fitting a metal muzzle over his mouth, stripping off his own optics in the process.
"If they give you any more problems, take it to me. I'll take care of it." Tyrant looked over, "Now go and give the media a good cover story of what just happened." He looked over at Austal, "See you at the rendezvous point. We have a few questions to ask Mr. Gustafson."
The crisis has been averted at last! The 37th are not going to stick around to be praised as heroes, even though they saved many lives today. Even with the world believing that it's over, Bowman and Eon are still there to deal with the true nature of this takeover.
Thanks you very much for reading and reviewing. You give my writing purpose.