In a post World War Soviet Union, restrictions on the civilian procurement of firearms has led to a lucrative arms dealing industry. While the average person is stuck trying to buy guns that are older than some political parties for self defense, the most successful criminal organizations are armed almost as heavily as the federal governments. Some companies would "accidentally" lose a shipment of military grade weapons to a yellow zone raid, or surplus weapons would be "missed" during inventory counts. Money was almost impossible to track in its entirety, as was the product it could purchase. This all culminated to create a world where the average law-abiding citizen had to fear for their lives, lest the risk of running into the wrong place at the wrong time.
Paradeus, while also being a religious cult that united and manipulated fringe yellow zone communities and organized terrorist attacks that toppled green zones, also dealt in weapons dealing. Often it would serve as a form of propaganda for their organization, but it also helped to destabilize governments for them to strike with full force. While not arming everyone with state of the art equipment like their own private army, they still managed to serve a premium product for an oddly affordable price. An offer from Paradeus was almost always lucrative, if one could deal with their incredibly enigmatic representatives. While most humans can't recognize one of the infiltration type Nytos outright, that still didn't make people uneasy to be around them.
Despite their popularity, Paradeus has been nearly impossible for State Security to track. They almost always seemed two steps ahead, leading many to believe any cases that involve Paradeus to be dead ends or a waste. Corruption within State Sec wasn't unheard of, and it was quite obvious that Paradeus possesses deep connections. In the rare instances that a State Sec agent manages to get the upper hand and make a move against them, very little can be claimed. Paradeus operatives will fight to the last, and Nytos seldom stay and fight if they can help it. Even when a Nyto can't escape, few agents are capable of fighting one of the cyborg monsters in combat. Lately, State Sec has begun deploying tactical dolls for missions pertaining to Paradeus, recognizing Griffin's success in combating the troopers of Paradeus.
G43 checked her straps for the third time this hour, terrified that they might be too loose for her personal safety. The safety harness was the only thing keeping her from falling off of the massive loading crane that she was perched on top of, allowing her to hang off the side with her rifle. From this elevation, strong winds threatened to blow her down to the ground where she would rather have stayed. Despite the danger posed by the crane's height and her clumsiness, she had to admit that the city lights surrounding the harbor were absolutely gorgeous. Reflecting on the waves of the water, the lights were almost dazzling, and covered the approach of anyone that hoped to find their way onto a large shipping freighter that rested below.
While many of the containers held mundane materials and goods, some of them held arms and vehicles for Paradeus. Being a mixture of legal and illegal material, the shipment was made to look completely indistinguishable from the more legitimate goods. These containers would be handed falsified customs approval, allowing them to ship out tonight and head off to their next destination without delay. Unfortunately, the local mob that was overseeing all of this for Paradeus was lacking in loyalty, and as such the entire transaction found itself clearing State Sec first. Seeing an opportunity arise, the Brigade was given the opportunity to prove themselves with a three part raid on the entire deal.
The first part would be the most difficult, as it required the most amount of stealth. Under the watch of G43 and her scoped rifle, a small inflatable boat approached the side of the freighter. Just watching them made her feel sick, preferring the possibility of falling to her death over the sheer unease of seasickness. Her affliction aside, her longer range was the primary reason she was selected to serve as overwatch for this phase of the mission. The infiltration team fell to MP40 and MP41, their closer range submachine guns perfect for the tight corridors of a large shipping vessel. They weren't expecting trouble, the possibility of Paradeus leaving behind agents on the vessel was too much of a reality to ignore. Realistically, all they needed to do was steal the shipping manifest from its computers, as well as the full log of every stop it had made. Ideally, it would be a simple run and they would ideally go home with a full magazine.
Just watching the small boat bobbing up and down in the waves made G43 nauseous, and she was nowhere near the water. With its engine dead, the two dolls were forced to slowly row the boat under the cover of darkness until its inflatable plastic exterior bounced against the hull of the larger vessel. G43 scanned the top deck with her rifle, watching for any crew who might catch the boat team. A deckhand was smoking a cigarette on the opposite side of the ship, staring at the docks as another cram moved a crate off of the freighter. "All clear, toss your rope." She radioed.
Silently, a grapple hook was tossed to the top deck, catching on the railing and enabling the two dolls to shimmy up the rope. The end of the rope connected to their infiltration craft, keeping it connected to the larger boat for convenience. With their guns safely secured in plastic bags, the two slowly climbed upwards to begin the hardest part of the mission. MP41 climbed up first, MP40 smart enough not to let the camera rat climb under her in a skirt. As they reached the top, they paused to let G43 check for any approaching people. A female deckhand wandered over to check the numbers on one of the shipping containers before swearing and returning back to another part of the ship.
MP41 climbed over the railing, immediately going to free her weapon from its plastic bag. While she packed the bag away, MP40 joined her on the deck. MP41 kept watch as MP40 removed the grapple part of the rope, allowing her to tie it to the larger boat so that they wouldn't lose their only means of escape. With G43 watching over them, the two dolls slowly made their way aft. With many of the containers still loaded on top of the ship, they had to move slowly and methodically wherever G43 didn't have a clear line of sight. A door at the stern of the ship opened, and a man with a gun slung over his shoulder walked out to light up a cigarette. "What's with these guys and smoking, don't they know it's bad for them?" She said over the radio, thinking out loud. "You have an armed guard at your door, so expect more inside."
"Say again," MP40 asked her to confirm, "did you say he's at the door to the main deck?"
"Roger," G43 checked the rest of the ship, "you could always try straight for the bridge."
"Ah yes, the command center," MP41 remarked, "the most likely place to have armed security and cameras."
G43 tried to get a good look through the windows of the ship, but couldn't make out very many details. It seemed as if everyone in the ship was mostly concerned with offloading the containers, which should leave most of the ship unattended save for the nonessential areas. Unfortunately, the bridge of a ship was an essential area. The ideal plan was to sneak on board, cause a power failure as a distraction, then make their way up to the bridge. Without a means to sneak into the bowels of the ship, it would be increasingly difficult to sneak around once inside. "Right now I think it's unattended," she tried to help, "but that doesn't mean there aren't any guards."
"I guess we'll have to get creative." MP40s sigh was not transmitted, but was still felt all the way up on G43's perch.
The main part of the bridge was suspended above the main deck, its aft position allowing the panoramic window a full view of the shipping containers. A winding stairway led up the sides of the bridge tower, with the bridge resting at the very top. It was a considerable climb to go undetected, especially since their black uniforms would stand out against the white paint on the vessel. However, with an unknown number of guards inside the ship, it was better to risk going straight for their prize rather than try to stumble through the ship for a negligible advantage.
MP40 peeked around the container, checking for any guards that might be coming. Once the coast was clear, she signaled to MP41 and they both ran to the stairs. The two of them made sure that they only brought essential equipment, tightly securing their bags so they wouldn't make noise. On their boots, they wore detachable rubber soles to ensure that even their footsteps were as silent as could be. Ideally, they wouldn't even need to use their guns for anything more than holding in their hands. They expected that at worst, they'd have to draw down on an unarmed sailor to keep them quiet, but no blood needed to be shed tonight. All in all, the two of them would rather enjoy a peaceful mission for once.
Climbing up the stairs was a slow and careful affair, the metal steps threatening to creak before the dolls. If anyone heard the sound of someone walking up the steps, natural human curiosity would get the better of them and cause them to look upwards. In this position, there was very little margin for error. Despite the risks they were still making good time, making their way up the stairs completely undetected. MP40 made sure to not let herself get too confident in their relatively good progress thus far, fully aware of the fact that the mission had barely even begun. As the two dolls reached the same level as the bridge, MP40 made a mental note of how high up they were. From this height, diving into the water would be incredibly dangerous. Neither doll was properly trained for diving or swimming, supplemented by the fact that being fully submerged in water wasn't necessarily a good thing for a mechanical being either. MP40 felt tingly enough after taking baths, she couldn't imagine how awful she'd feel after diving into a city harbor.
There was only one door inside the ship on this level, and it was thankfully unguarded on the outside. Weapons ready, the two dolls posted up by the door to prepare for their entry. As MP40 reached for the hatchway handle, the door began to creak and shift as someone opened it up from the inside. The door swung outwards to conceal the dolls from the person opening it, leaving that person ignorant of the danger hiding in the shadows. The woman that walked out was also an armed guard, built more like a brutish thug than the two lithe dolls that were now behind her. She leaned against the railing and looked out over the harbor as she pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. G43 had a point, these humans really liked to smoke.
MP41 snuck up behind the guard for a quiet take down, peering around the door to make sure nobody inside would notice what was about to happen. Wielding her gun like a club, she was nearly half the woman's height when she slammed the wooden stock into the back of her head. The surprise blow caught the woman off guard and she slumped over the railing, the doll catching her so she didn't fall into the waters below. Together, they dragged the unconscious woman into the ship and closed the hatch behind them. MP40 quickly pulled out a few heavy duty zip ties from her bag and quickly secured both the woman's hands and feet. Then she pulled off the bandanna that the woman was wearing on her head and used it to tie her mouth shut. As she secured their prisoner, MP41 checked further inside to see if they were as alone as they thought they were. MP40 felt no remorse tying this woman up, knowing that she had intentionally abandoned her post for something so trivial as a cigarette break.
As she tied up the guard, MP41 checked out the computers on the bridge for some sort of connection point. "It's not wireless," she reported, "and I don't have the proper physical connection for the hard point."
"Can you break into it then?" MP40 asked.
MP41 shrugged. "Not without a password."
There had to be something they could do, humans always had a back up laying around somewhere. The two dolls started searching the bridge for some sort of hint at whatever the password could be, hoping for the saving grace that was human imperfection. As they searched, the tied up guard started to regain consciousness and growl angrily at the dolls. MP40 approached the imprisoned woman and pulled the gag from her mouth, pulling her hand away before the woman could bite her. "What's the password?" MP40 started bluntly.
"Fuck you!" The woman spat at her.
"Not enough characters." MP41 responded, trying that password.
The woman started to thrash about, trying to break the ties around her wrists and ankles. MP40 gave the woman a backhanded slap, temporarily halting her struggle. "Let's try this again," MP40s tone grew more cold, "what is the password?"
"Fuck. You." The woman repeated.
MP40 sighed and reached onto the woman's pocket, pulling out the lighter and one of the cigarettes. Holding it by the filter, she lit the end of the cigarette with the lighter and held it under the woman's nose. As the smoke wafted up, she seemed to enjoy the sickening stench of the burning tobacco. While she enjoyed the smell, MP40 grabbed her by the chin as she extinguished the lit cigarette on the woman's forehead. "Sorry, I missed." She pretended to apologize as she reached into the woman's pocket for another one.
The woman started to thrash about again, realizing what MP40 intended to do by lighting up another cigarette. As it burned, MP40 made a point to hold the woman's mouth, trying to force it open. "You wanted to suck on this, correct?" MP40 mocked the woman as she tried to interrogate her. "Your cooperation is all we need to give you the end you want."
"Fuck me!" The woman growled back at her.
MP40 sighed and shook her head. With MP41's help, they started to force her mouth open. As some of the cigarette ash fell into her slowly opening mouth, she coughed on the harsh taste. "Hold still or I'll get it into your eye!" MP40 threatened, knowing full well that it wouldn't be an accident.
It was dirty work, but it needed to be done. Pain was a useful tool; everyone had a limit to how much they could take. Every hired thug has a threshold to how much they're willing to take for the money, something that a clever doll could easily take advantage of. MP40 would never break under interrogation, her loyalty to her commander built into her neural cloud. Unfortunately for the guard squirming in her hands, MP40 had no issues testing the extent of their loyalty. Eventually she would run out of cigarettes, which is when she would have to start getting creative. MP40 rolled the woman onto her stomach and sat on her back. She grabbed the woman's hands and squeezed one of her fingers. "I'm going to start counting down from ten," her voice was cold and emotionless, emulating the murder machines that haunted human minds, "you have until then to start talking."
No response, the woman only trying to shake her off. MP40 twisted her wrist, the cracking of bone signaling one broken finger. "Zehn." She counted, grabbing another digit.
More silent squirming and grinding teeth. Another finger was dislocated. "Neun."
Pained groaning followed by moans. Crack. "Acht."
Tears and sobbing. Crack. "Sieben."
"Fucking stop." The woman cried.
"You know how to make me stop." MP40 stroked the woman's thumb, letting her know what was coming next.
"Paradeus makes them loyal." MP41 remarked, still searching around for some sign of a password. She had no problem listening to the sound of pain, simply ignoring the torment happening on the other end of the room.
"We don't fucking work for them!" The woman exclaimed, hoping that would set her free.
"You're shipping for them." MP40 toyed with the finger in her hand, reminding the woman of what consequences await for liars.
"We ship for a lot of people," the woman explained, "those creepy fucks aren't the only ones that pay good money to not keep records of them on the manifest. They know how to find their stuff, not us."
The two dolls exchanged glances. They didn't want to believe her, seeing as humans have a tendency to say whatever they need to under duress. However, they both understood that it was a possibility that Paradeus wouldn't be so careless as to leave behind evidence of where to find them. Third party deals leave less evidence, especially with gangsters and mobs. They may very well have reached a dead end for this particular route. MP40 pushed herself off of the woman's back, preparing to leave her here with her shattered hand. As the dolls gathered to figure out what to do, G43 radioed in with an alert. "Your boat has been discovered and they're cutting off your escape!"
Fun time was over, they were going to have to evacuate fast before the search made it their way. Leaving their prisoner behind, the two dolls brandished their weapons and made their way back to the stairs. Unfortunately for them, the guards were already moving to cover the bridge, realizing that nobody was responding to their hails. This was no place to fight, with so little cover nowhere to go. Looking over the railing as they descended the stairway, MP40 realized they were going to have to jump. Taking a moment, the two dolls placed their weapons back into their plastic waterproof bags and prepared for their dive. Frantic warnings from G43 rang in their ears, but they tried to ignore her as they grabbed the metal rails. They were just high enough that they could redirect their fall, but low enough that they probably wouldn't kill themselves. The main concern thus far was the fact that they were machines diving head first into a saltwater harbor.
Deciding to deal with Fredrick's complaining later, the two dolls climbed the railing, threw their legs over, and held onto the other side. MP40 jumped first, followed shortly and less gracefully by MP41. The captain hit the water boots first, thankfully hitting a wave and breaking her fall. Still, she felt a shock course threw her body as she hit the water, her speed from the fall making the water feel more solid than it actually was. Were she human, she probably would have broken a leg. MP41, falling head first, wasn't able to get her arms and body into the proper position and slammed into the water. The impact rattled her head and the shock forced her system to crash. The little doll bobbed on the surface of the water, requiring a forced reset to fix her crashed neural cloud.
Despite needing to escape, MP40 struggled to drag the unconscious doll along while swimming away from the freighter. She only needed to reach their small inflatable craft, but the crashing waves from the massive cargo ship next to them made it near impossible to tread water. Already, she could feel the water corroding her, the salt water especially burning away at her sensitive parts. Using the pain as motivation, MP40 paddled with her unconscious partner to the boat. The motion of the ocean mixed with MP41's dead weight and made swimming an already impossible affair, slowing her progress as their target continued to drift away from them. On the main deck of the freighter above them, human guards ran around, trying to find the infiltration team that unbeknownst to them had fallen into the water. MP40's struggling motions were masked by the licking of waves and the height of the vessel above the water. Even if they had known, she blended in too well with the black harbor in the night. By the time the freighter crew could figure out where the dolls had gone, they'd most likely be too late to stop their getaway.
If only MP40 was so lucky; the inflatable boat was still being carried away by the waves while her body screamed at her to stop. A thought drifted into her mind that twice now, MP41 nearly got her officer killed needing to be rescued. Despite the intrusive thoughts to let the doll go, MP40 kept flailing through the water. Despite the harbor's best attempts to send wave after wave of salt water to drown them both, their destination steadily grew closer. MP40 breathed a sigh of relief as she felt her finger grab onto the boat, her legs kicking and flailing as she tried to pull herself to safety. Her motions weren't graceful, reminiscent of a dying fish. Still, she managed to pull both herself and the unconscious MP41 into the boat, taking a moment to relax before starting the engine to make their true escape.