Author's Note:
Hey agents… or JTF… or member of some other faction in NYC, this is another update to my story! Sorry for the delay, I'm actually writing this in an airport terminal. Vacations always ruin everything for me, and it sure isn't helping with writing. I have another flight in 3 days, so expect more delays. Note that I created a bit of my own Division lore in this chapter, so be weary. This is a particularly long chapter, so I hope you enjoy. Leave feedback and be sure to be hyped for The Division 2!
-TheProfDoc
Camp Hudson Medical Tent 22-B
8:33 AM
Donnie felt the bandages on his left hand and right upper arm. He had sustained minor burns during the attack, mostly from inside the building. He also had a minor concussion from his collapse. Baker was reading a magazine on the cot next to him, a bandage on her right forearm and around her left shoulder.
He turned his head to face his partner, a joke in mind. "So, what are you in for?"
"It's pretty bad." Baker chuckled, putting the magazine down. "Dragged a dead guy's corpse out of a building."
"Really? Fuck." Donnie said, a sarcastic tone in his voice. "Well I carried a dead guy's corpse out of a building."
A solemn look soon dawned over their faces as they realized they were talking about their fellow fallen officers. Baker looked at a nearby JTF crate, a deep look of self-disappointment on her face.
Donnie looked at the plastic flaps where a CERA medic had just walked into the room, carrying a clipboard. His blue and black CERA uniform gave a paramedic-like appearance to Donnie. When CERA rolled into town, Donnie knew it would be bad, the virus had already killed hundreds of people by then, and even some officers in his precinct had been infected.
"You guys are being discharged." The medic said, relief washing over Donnie. He was already bored to death. "Lieutenant Horton's looking for you."
Donnie looked over at his partner, who responded with a quick nod. As the CERA medic left, Baker got up, adjusting her business coat and putting on her shoes which were left in front of her cot. Donnie soon got up doing the same, straightening out his trench coat and buttoning it up. Taking out a piece of cloth, he began to clean and shine his badge. Wiping off the edges, a large stain of blood develops on the cloth. Upon seeing this, Donnie drops the badge, staring at the badge on the floor.
"Problem partner?" Baker asked, clearly concerned. "Should I call the medic?"
Looking up a little embarrassed, Donnie quickly responded. "No, I'm fine, badge was slippery, that's all." He then proceeded to pick up his badge, pinning it to his belt. "You ready partner?"
Baker nodded, and they both exited the tent, walking towards the gate to the inner part of the camp. Donnie noticed one of the National Guardsmen guarding the gate out of the medical area, he was wearing a JTF reflective vest.
"Logan?" Donnie was startled by the vest. "What are you doing joining the crossing guard coalition?"
"Army pulled out yesterday." The guardsman responded. "They callin' us all JTF now, LT said to look the part."
"Bullshit." Donnie cursed, shaking his head. "We had it controlled! Why they pullin' out now?"
The guardsman shrugged, opening the gate for the two detectives.
"You have a good day detective," Logan said, sarcastically saluting him.
Scoffing, Donnie continued walking towards the command tent. Looking towards the decontamination area to Chesley, he saw several people holding military grade weapons and dressed in civilian clothing. He saw no badge, nor sign that they were part of the JTF. The only thing that signaled they were connected was a strange, bright orange circle on their wrists.
"What the fuck?" Donnie muttered to Baker. "They hiring mercs now? We really that deep into this?"
"I dunno'," Baker responded, lifting up the plastic flaps leading into the command tent. "I know as much as you, bud."
The tent itself was cramped, with people walking around constantly and computer monitors lining the walls and the desks. The monitors showed CCTV footage of various points around the city, giving the JTF very useful real-time information. In the center of the tent was a large table with maps, and tablets. Lieutenant Horton and another man stood by the desk, looking at the maps. The man was dressed like those he saw by the decontamination area and looked around 37. His hair was well combed for an apocalypse, giving him a suave sort of aura.
Walking over, Donnie spoke first. "Lieutenant, what the hell is happening? You got mercs in the camp with enough weaponry to put Afghanistan under martial law."
"Those aren't mercs." The lieutenant explained. "They're-"
"Strategic Homeland Division, New York." The man interrupted, holding his hand out. "Louis Chang, current Northeast Section Commander. We're sleeper cells designed to be activated during a catastrophic situation to ensure continuity of government necessary."
"First Wave?" Donnie retorted sarcastically. "Lieutenant what is this white vigilante... beanie wearing shit?"
Horton seemed to have a confused look. "Marks they're part of the feds. They supersede all my authority."
"Of course!" Donnie threw his hands up in the air. "The fucking feds with their own self-preservation plan."
"You should be happy, Donnie!" Horton argued, raising his voice. "We need all the help we can get! Especially after the army pulled out and they got us wearing these fucking things." He pointed to his JTF vest.
"Detective," Louis spoke with a firm, assertive voice. "You can trust me, and my people are doing everything we can to save this city. You know I only live 4 blocks from here?"
"Look Marks, you and Baker are one of our best detectives." Horton said, beginning his briefing. "So that's why we're sending both of you to Wall Street to help with a deteriorating situation."
"Wall Street?" Baker responded, intrigued with the location. "Isn't that PMC stationed there? The Last Man Battalion, I think that's its name."
"Yeah, you know that lunatic leader of theirs? That Bliss Guy?" Horton said, tossing a folder towards Donnie. "We've delegated one of the old NYCP negotiators to create a peace agreement with the LMB. I need you two on her security detail."
"Anyone else on the team?" Donnie asked, looking over the plans detailed in the folder. "The LMB's a pretty slick outfit to deal with."
"You'll have the support of Louis's team of SHD agents." Horton assured, handing him the roster. "JTF in the immediate area will possible provide tactical support if needed. A helo is standing by at the dock helipad."
"'Possibly provide'," Donnie said, pocketing a map of wall street into his pocket. "Anything else your dementia kept you from telling me?"
"Yeah actually you fucking asshole," Horton's angry eyes scanned over Donnie's trench coat. "New regulations on uniforms, you need the godforsaken vest visible when heading out. Friendly fire reasons. Dismissed, detective."
Flipping him off, Donnie turned around, navigating his way around the seemingly endless amount of JTF personnel in the tent. Ducking down through the flaps and exiting the tent, he squinted, finding the light from the morning sun blinding. Looking around, he saw CERA tents lined a large pathway leading to the exit to Chelsey. A memorial wall stood near the medical tents. Pictures, candles, flowers, letters and the American Flag hung over the wall, dedicated to the dozens of fallen servicemen. He stared at it, remembering the building collapse.
"We gotta' get going Donnie," The SHD commander reminded. "We're supposed to be there by 1200"
"Patience hotshot," Donnie responded, still pissed. "Why don't you meet up with your cell of your federal agent dingbats at the helo. Baker and I still need to pick up our crossing guard vests."
"Look detective," Louis spoke with a much more serious tone, seeing an underlying problem with their relationship. "It'll take some time to believe it. But what me and my fellow agents are doing right now is for the ultimate good of the city. Whether you believe it or not will not change anything, nor affect what we do. We got a mission to accomplish, so why don't you suck it up and do your fucking job."
Donnie stormed off towards the quartermaster tent, Baker following close behind him. His hands were rolled up in fists, his trench coat flapping as the frigid. New York wind pushed against him.
"Ultimate good of the city my ass," Donnie attempted to mimic Louis's voice. "suck it up, do your fucking job." Looking back at Baker, he continued his rant. "He's wearing a leather jacket, jeans, a beanie, and a fucking go-bag to a warzone expecting to restore order and save the city. What the fuck? Is this a Disney TV set? No, people are dying, good people. The feds… they don't know what we've been through, and now they're pulling this bullshit. A fucking CLASSIC."
They arrived at the quartermaster tent, the inside neatly lined with rifles, shotguns, carbines, SMGs, and pistols. A JTF officer was sitting down on a patio chair taking inventory of ammunition. Donnie knew him well, they had been in the same class during Police Academy. His real name was Jeffery Robvinsiloj, but Donnie just called him "Gus."
"Hey Donnie!" Gus yelped in his thick Jamaican accent. "What can I get you today, my friend?"
"Hey Gus, I need two of those JTF vests." Donnie sighed, looking at the rack lined with them. "Lieutenant said I looked too badass, so he said I needed to balance it out. Also, need one for my partner."
The weary quartermaster laughed heartily, turning around and grabbing two vests of the rack. "Alright buddy, here you go." He handed it to Donnie, the detective looking at it in disgust. "And here's one for the missus." He said, throwing it to Baker.
"Thanks Gus," Baker said, catching the vest. "Don't mind Donnie, he's just mad about, well, everything."
"Yah, he had to go take an anger management seminar during Academy. I video taped the whole fucking thing." Gus cackled, picking up the clipboard he had dropped.
"Shut the hell up Gus," Donnie retaliated, taking off his trench coat. "Don't make me mention that extra sexual harassment seminar the CO 'advised'."
"Forget I said anything," Gus grinned, looking at Baker and then proceeding to give Donnie the stink-eye.
Donnie chuckled, putting his head through the middle hole of the vest, then extending his arms through their designated sockets. He thumped his chest once, securing the Kevlar vest underneath. Once this was done, he pinned his detective's badge to the right side of his chest completing the standard JTF look.
"You wanna' race?" Baker challenged, pinning the badge to her waist. "I'll gladly beat your sorry ass."
"You don't know who you're messing with Baker," Donnie chuckled, checking his Glock. "But okay, I'll do it to show who will be dominant in any cardio exercise in the future."
"Bullshit, Marks." Baker said, bending her knees to get into a starting posture. "You know, I was the best runner on my high school track team."
"I've caught 275 perps," Donnie said mockingly. "I'm sure I can beat some overgrown schoolgirl in a suit."
The two eyed the large CERA decontamination tent leading to the dock. Donnie counted began counting down from 10.
"10… 9… 8… 7…" Donnie counted, a medical Humvee passed by, snow jetting out from its wheels as it rolled towards the repair area. The ground was covered in the stuff, half an inch thick.
"6… 5… 4… 3…" A flock of birds passed overhead, and two CERA medics rolled a gurney behind the two detectives.
"2… 1…" Donnie yelled, the two running forward towards the decontamination tent. Baker had the lead at first, with around half a foot being the difference between the two. After around 10 seconds they arrived at the entrance to the tent. With a burst of speed, Donnie took the lead, narrowly avoiding a collision through the UV checkpoint. Making a sharp turn, they entered the field laboratory hallway. Two scientists were rolling a cart filled with saliva samples from one room to another, making an obstruction in the detective's path.
"Outta the way!" Donnie yelled, leaping over the tray and miraculously not causing any spills. The scientists stumbled back, giving Baker enough room to slip around the cart.
Running out of the tent, Donnie could eye the helicopter around 500 feet ahead of him. The merry-go-round was to the left, with a couple of JTF soldiers having a conversation near the stairs to the ride. Looking back, he saw Baker was closing in fast sprinting faster in an attempt to compensate after the cart. She was clearly an avid runner, clearly a better match for Donnie than Charlie.
Suddenly, Charlie's last words rung in Donnie's ears.
"I'll be fine"
The 5'11", 148-pound veteran detective stopped dead in his tracks, staring down at the blindingly bright snow beneath him. Donnie was seemingly frozen in memory. Baker soon passed him, producing a little wind which would cause some of Donnie's hair to flip forward onto his forehead.
"Something wrong Marks?" Baker said triumphantly, holding onto the handle near the door of the helicopter. "Need to catch your breath?"
Donnie snapped out of it, looking up at Baker and the SHD agents already inside the helicopter. "No… I just thought I left something…" Donnie recuperated, jogging the final few feet towards the helicopter.
"You okay man?" A white, female SHD agent asked, an MP7 slung over her shoulder.
"Yeah, you look like you saw the fucking devil." A black, male agent chimed in, his M700 sitting tightly between his legs. "Last time I made that face, I had learned my wife was pregnant."
Louis held out his hand, with Donnie reluctantly taking it. Pushing himself up via the bottom railings, he boarded the helicopter, taking up a thin space next to Chang. Baker was standing up in front of the path leading to the cockpit.
"We good?" The JTF pilot yelled, doing a final check on all instruments.
"Get her going!" Donnie yelled, the rotors of the helicopter beginning to spin.
"Roger that," The pilot spoke into his headset. "JTF-68 to Hudson, we are Oscar mike towards Wall Street. ETA around 20 minutes."
The helicopter lifted off, causing Donnie to flinch. As their elevation rapidly increased, so did Donnie's anxiety. Looking to his left, he saw Louis doing something with his watch. A hologram suddenly emanated from it, showing some sort of inventory menu.
"Pretty fancy tech you got there," Donnie stared at the holographic menu. "All of you guys have these… things?"
All the agents nodded in agreement, and soon they were all looking at their inventory, their watches pulsating a bright orange color. Not wanting to disturb them any further, Donnie looked back to his right, seeing the city hundreds of feet below him. He flinched again.
"Do the doors close?" Donnie asked nervously, looking down at various rooftops.
"How the hell are we supposed to shoot out of them then?" The agent wielding the M700 chuckled. "The name's 'Reaper'." He pointed at the agent with the MP7. "That's Clark." And then he pointed at an agent sitting to the right of Louis, he wore a Shortbow baseball cap and was armed with a suppressed LVOA-C. "That's Jackal."
"I see you people are a fan of nicknames." Donnie remarked sarcastically. "There more of you?"
"There are around 126 active cells in New York State alone, half of which are located in this city. Each cell starts off with 4 individuals." Louis yelled over the loud sound of spinning rotors. "You do the math detective."
"That's over 250 of you people in NYC." Donnie blurted out, clearly startled by this fact. "Jesus Christ."
"Yeah, if the first wave fails, we got plans for a second, larger one." The SHD commander added, checking the ammunition in his Vector 45 ACP. "Hundreds of cells."
Donnie grimaced at the numbers, looking at Baker with a concerned expression.
Looking down, he saw Central Park. Thick concentrations of black smoke would hover above the park, burning bodies. JTF and CERA trucks would drop off the bodies by the dozen, and CERA body bags would line the snow-coated grass by the thousands.
"Fuckin' hell." Donnie said, looking at all the death. "This shit has really hit the fan…"
"That's why we were called in, detective." Louis patted the detective's shoulder. "We're gonna' end it."
JTF Rooftop FOB – Wall Street Sector
10:05 AM
"Wake up, Marks." Baker tapped Donnie's shoulder vigorously. "We're here."
"Really subtle Baker" Donnie snarled, stretching his back. "Real subtle."
Donnie hopped off the helicopter first, dust from the spinning rotors finding a way into his eye. Baker followed closely, ignoring the visceral cursing coming out of her partner's mouth.
The rooftop itself was a very active site. The helicopter sat on a makeshift helipad at the western edge of the roof, which was basically a white, rectangular tarp laid out across the roof with a large letter "H" in the center. To the front of the helicopter was a large communications mast, with satellite dishes vertically lining the structure. JTF national guard engineers worked at its bottom, wire-tapping LMB radio networks and maintaining contact with Camp Hudson. Other JTF personnel lingered on the roof, mostly snipers scouting the LMB outpost 2000 feet north of their position. The roof access stairwell was directly behind the mast, a JTF soldier guarding the door.
Marks looked over the folder. "Horton says we gotta' meet with some Colonel Hucks. He has the mission details."
"Sounds good," Baker said, looking over at the distant rooftops. Snow was lightly falling on the broken city. The bright light from the morning sun provided a stark contrast to the depression exhibited by the troops stationed here. Wall Street had been hit especially hard by the virus, as it is one of the main financial sectors of the city and of the nation. Amherst had been especially keen about his placement of bills there, thinking that Wall Street was the true nexus of evil and greed in America. If you can stop the economic heart of a country, killing it would be a relatively simple task.
Once the duo arrived at the stairwell, the JTF guard asked for identification, his lime reflective vest shimmering in the New York sun. He wore the standard NYCP officer uniform underneath. The name on his ID read: "Nathan Anderson." It sounded quite familiar to Donnie.
Getting out his newly issued JTF identification card, he showed it to the weary ex-police officer.
"You're on Laila's detail, right?" The officer commented, straightening his lime helmet. "Hucks is waiting for you downstairs, your agent buddies arrived around three minutes earlier."
"Thanks officer," Donnie patted his shoulder as he entered through the door. "You have a good day, alright?"
Going down the stairs, he turned to Baker.
"Look, whatever you do, don't let your guard down around those Division types." Donnie whispered, turning the corner and continuing down the stairwell. "Especially that Louis character, something about him doesn't sit right with me."
"Marks that's just your damn paranoia talking." Baker whispered back, pocketing her JTF ID. "Give em' a chance."
Once they arrived at the desired floor, Donnie opened the door to the command center, allowing Baker to enter first with a slight smile. Entering the room, he could feel the tension emanating from the personnel inside. Apparently, the situation had become dire. Commander Hucks was easily discernable from the rest of JTF in the room. He was an extremely tall, muscular figure, and the back of his JTF vest read the word: "District Commander." Louis and his team were at the end of the room, a gigantic holographic map of Midtown Manhattan shining from Reaper's watch.
"By God…" Donnie beamed, noticing who the negotiator was. "Why if it isn't the great Laila Hummings. Come here."
Donnie pulled her into a hug. The two had been best friends during their time at the academy. Donnie had narrowly beat her for the top rank in their class. Both had first served in precinct 15th before Laila left to join ESU's Hostage Rescue negotiation team. They still kept in touch via emails.
"Nice to hear from you while not staring at a computer screen." Laila joked, looking up at the detective. "I heard about Charlie. I'm so sorry, Donnie. I'm sure he was a good guy."
"He was one of the best," Donnie looked down for a moment, remembering the events that occurred on that fateful day. "He died doing what he loved."
"Now's not the time for mourning, detective." Hucks interrupted, staring down at the mess of maps, tablets, and laptops on the table and then looking back up at the two detectives. "I already briefed your Division pals, but here's the current situation: The LMB have exercised extreme aggression recently with both civilians and JTF personnel in the surrounding area. We have reports of four separate engagements with their soldiers, with three of our men WIA and one MIA. After conducting a roll call, we found one of the CERA aid workers missing, Trenton Hargraves, 23. Around 3 days ago, we attempted to contact their leader, some PE teacher looking piece of shit named Charles Bliss. Got a big long message from them which basically said: "Fuck off" and now Hudson's telling us to put a lid on the situation before it becomes a real problem."
"Sounds rough," Donnie realized the magnitude of the situation. The JTF are already being swamped by armed gangs of looters, the Dollar Flu, and a series of riots at Rikers. If we add in heavily armed, organized mercenaries fresh out of Iraq to our long list of problems, our grip on Manhattan would collapse within days. "So they wanted to talk?" Donnie asked fiddling with a pen on the table.
"Yeah, one of their scouts arrived at our checkpoint at 22nd and 5th bearing a message from some Lieutenant named 'Winters'. Said they wanted to make a few conditions clear before they wanted to resume 'joint ops' and release a 'prisoner'."
"So that's where Laila comes in?" Donnie looked at Laila, she was going over some prompts on her clipboard.
"Correct." Hucks answered, double-checking the mission details. "The meeting starts in five hours. I expect your team prepped and ready to go in three."
"You got it commander," Donnie assured, "We got it covered." He then proceeded to walk towards the group of Division agents.
Louis was sitting on a CERA crate messing with some small, spherical device. It'd make beeping sounds as it jumped from the agent's left palm to his right. Clark was sitting down against the crate, her beanie pulled over her eyes to block the light as she slept. Reaper was aiming a pistol-launcher type of weapon, the barrel of which had a relatively large radius for a gun.
Looking to his right, Jackal was still looking at the holographic map. Curious, the detective walked over, examining the vast hologram stretched out across the floor. Holding his hand out into one of the buildings on the map, he marveled at the way the orange particles distorted and moved out of his way.
"They never gave us this kind of tech," Donnie commented, looking at the map. "I don't even think the army has this shit."
"Yeah, well," The agent was busy fiddling with his inventory. "The units called in when the shit hits the fan need a technological advantage over any threat they come across. I'd imagine if the army were to stage a coup, we would still maintain that advantage due, as these technologies are highly classified."
"Huh, I see," Donnie said, distressed at the sheer power of these agents. "You guys are the real deal…"
JTF Checkpoint IL-2
3:45 PM
Donnie swung the door of the Humvee open. The snow had stopped falling, and he could see the thick layer of snow on the ground had already begun to melt. He looked around at the checkpoint.
There was an elevated platform over the road leading north, three JTF national guardsmen were manning it, their postures signaling how tense they were. The platform itself was a large, metal structure, with signs saying "Checkpoint, stay left" and "Infection Check: Roll Down Window".
"They're late." Laila commented on the lack of LMB presence. "For well-trained PMCs, they don't seem so punctual."
Donnie stiffened as he felt a sudden tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Louis, pointing to his ear.
"Marks turn your earpiece on," He suggested. "Makes everything go much more smoothly."
"Yeah, just didn't work at first," The detective retorted, activating his ear comm. "Damn technology can be such a bitch."
Suddenly the ground began to vibrate as an LMB APC thunders down the empty road towards the checkpoint. Its winter camouflage glistened in the surrounding snow, and the LMB logo of the bird skull shined in its bold red and black color. Two additional specialist squads of LMB trailed behind it, intimidating the small JTF contingent. The APC stopped around 50 feet in front of the northern platform, the large turret aimed directly at Donnie and the SHD squad.
"Where's Sergeant Trenton Hargraves?" Laila spoke into the loudspeaker, her voice booming across the intersection. "We need to see him alive before we talk about anything else."
The APC did nothing, nor did any of the LMB mercenaries say anything. They stood there, eyeing down the JTF soldiers.
"Where. Is. Hargraves?" Laila repeated into her loudspeaker.
The door on the back of the APC fell, revealing a figure in a JTF uniform, a black trash bag over his head. Pushing him forward was Charlies Bliss himself. His glasses dampened his intimidating, ruthless nature. And his bald head resembled that of Donnie's 5th grade math teacher. Following Bliss were two gigantic LMB heavy soldiers, both wielding massive riot shields. Bliss stopped the POW in the middle of the checkpoint, kicking him down so he was on his knees.
"So that's what this little degenerate's name is… huh." Bliss spoke in an emotionless voice. "We just decided to call him a scumbag." The colonel drew his pistol, aiming at the back of the captive JTF officer. "And he should be treated as such." The LMB forces aimed their weapons at the checkpoint.
Donnie and his team, and the rest of the JTF personnel in the area aimed their weapons back at the LMB force. The street grew quiet, except for a soft wind that blew by. The sound of stray dogs also echoed in the distance.
"How about we all calm down!" Laila yelled, her voice cracking slightly. "Bliss, what are your demands?"
"Your weak, soft tactics are destroying this city." Bliss explained, still aiming the gun at the feeble captive. "This city can only be saved under the rule of an iron fist. That is why I request that all JTF forces in Manhattan withdraw immediately and allow the LMB to establish a sovereign state."
"I'm afraid… we can't do that, Bliss." Laila's hands were tied. "We have an email from your superiors ordering you to stand down. Look how about-"
"You know what…" A gunshot rang out, and the JTF captive's body fell flat onto the ground, a pool of blood soon accumulating underneath his head. "I'm tired of talking." The two heavies moved to cover him with their large shields.
"Son of a Bitch!" Donnie opened fire at Bliss, his shot being absorbed into a heavy's black shield.
Noticing the turret of the APC turning towards Donnie, Louis sprinted towards the detective, tackling him to the ground behind a barrier. The APC fired, the round exploding several feet behind them, dust and dirt raining down. Soon bullets would whiz by overhead, and the screams of wounded JTF would echo in Donnie's ears.
"Flash going out!" Reaper screamed into his comm.
A trail of vapor would shoot out of the third floor of a nearby building, landing in the biggest concentration of LMB and exploding. Several LMB would stumble back, wiping their eyes, dazed. Louis stood up, opening fire on the stunned mercenaries. Once Bliss and his guard were inside the armored vehicle, it'd turn around and drive in the opposite direction, leaving the specialist squads fighting the JTF.
JTF soldiers would open fire from cover, pinning down several more LMB. A more senior squad of national guardsmen would rally, moving forward towards cover with tactical precision, killing several traitor mercenaries in the process. Soon Donnie would stand up along with Baker, firing at the now outnumbered LMB troops.
"To the last man, you JTF fucks!" The specialist squad leader would yell, attempting to boost the morale of his weary men.
Donnie peeked out of cover, seeing a more forward cover position. Soon he was making a mad dash towards it, bullets ricocheting off the ground near him. He slid into the cover with Baker following close behind. Standing up, he fired several shots, nicking an LMB rifleman in the neck causing him to fall backwards onto the cold, hard pavement. A grenade exploded several feet to the right of Donnie, sending several JTF soldiers flying back dead or maimed. A JTF Police Officer would squirm on the ground screaming, his right leg 5 feet away from his body.
"Seeker out!" Louis yelled into his comms, deploying the spherical device Donnie had seen earlier.
It'd roll around the barriers and the corpses towards the LMB position, eventually exploding, the air around it riddled with smaller, individual explosions. Several LMB bodies would literally fly out of cover, their faces and torsos mangled up. Those who survived such an explosion were now screaming in agony.
The LMB numbers were dwindling, and soon the JTF had encircled the last remaining mercenaries. In a matter of minutes, the remaining LMB would surrender, putting their hands up.
Donnie looked around at the carnage. CERA medics rushed out of cover, and were tending wounded and screaming soldiers, enemy or not. He counted around 20 corpses, eight from the JTF. But what startled Donnie the most was the Division agents. They were looting the LMB corpses for weapons and armor, turning and rummaging through their bodies with no respect to the human being.
Donnie looked around for Laila, finding her kneeling down with her hands over her mouth, staring at the corpse of a JTF soldier.
"You okay?" Donnie asked, putting his arm around her neck in a consoling fashion.
"It's just-.. it- I knew this guy…" Laila would stutter, soon beginning to cry. "Th-This is.. it's it- it's all some d-dream.. right…?
Donnie would shake his head, looking down on the corpse. The ID read: "Grey Martin", and there was a large blood stain in the center of his chest, accompanied by a hole.
"It's gonna' be alright…" Donnie would pull her closer, both looking at the corpse. "It'll be over soon… I promise. We could all go home…"
And that's that! In the next chapter, we'll see Donnie and Baker be stationed in the Dark Zone… back when the JTF still patrolled the damn place. Please leave suggestions for future chapters!