The microphone was held in the direction of a huddled bunch of children. Frightened and whimpering, most of them were crying, a few were inquiring into the whereabouts of their mothers. As the tension mounted, Mon held his breath in shock and disbelief.
"No! no! Mommy!" Their screams reverberated through the amplifiers, filling the school with their terror.
Everyone heard it. Eight gunshots. And then silence. The dreadful realization of the occurrence mingled in the air like frost before settling, who could believe what had just happened.
Oreos' heartbeat shot up. He punched the wall repeatedly, cursing all the while, until blood stained the surface.
Mon finally exhaled. "Save it for them..."
Oreos pushed back his hair, and held his radio up.
"Sposti i vostri asini"
(Move your asses)
- - -
Meanwhile, in the Principals office:
Barnes had seven more rounds in his M9 Pistol. He emptied his rounds into the little girl who was not afraid. Then he reloaded.
The 97th member, Wrath, viewed the aftermath of the carnage impassively. "Hey Boss, you want me to clean up this mess?"
Barnes holstered his gun. "There's no point."
Malteasers came to Barnes' side. "When are we stepping up? We've more casualties then they do."
Their leader grinned. "You know how I like to play the game. Let them think they're winning. It'll be all the sweeter when they lose."
Wrath growled suddenly, "I just got one request: Give me Pyst. I owe that little sissy one to the face."
Wrath was just itching for a fight, gripping his MP4 tighter. Barnes always managed to keep him in check though, except on the battlefield. Then he was an unstoppable lunatic.
The 97th leader radioed his only female member, and his only female sibling.
"Mirage, you've taken care of the sniper yet?" his sister's confident voice came through the receiver. "I have it under control."
" Well we're not being paid by the hour. Get back down here quick".
The three 97s started heading back to the auditorium, where the other seven were. Barnes caught a glimpse of the playground outside the window. He experienced a sudden brief flashback of when he and Sarge were kids. It disappeared just as quick.
- - -
"So I'm, like, on the Internet right?"
"Pyst - not now."
"And I'm wasting my time, Googling...too bored to search for 'guns and ammo', too tired to look through 'free naked celebrity pics'..."
"Seriously - this isn't the right time."
"Anyway, I come onto this freaky 'Growth' thing. Some flash game made by some guy, somewhere. And it's like, totally the best game ever on the In-ter-net. There's this little man, and he does things...and...an egg... Man. So emotionally complex? D' you know what I'm saying Sarge?"
"Look, don't take this the wrong way...but...frankly... I don't care."
Pyst, in all sincerity, looked hurt. Sarge, irritated, held his shotgun tightly against his hip. After an awkward moment's silence, he mumbled, "Look...I'm sorry. I promise I'll check it out when we finally sort this mess out, but for now..."
"Mother ------!"
"Look," Sarge said, turning around sharply, "There's no need to be rude..."
"HIT THE DECK!"
"What?"
Carrie, who was following loosely behind the troop, lunged at Sarge, flooring him, as a stream of hot lead rained in the space above him. She landed daintily on her chest, her black locks bouncing invitingly.
Sarge's throat went dry as sandpaper. The tiniest hint of the strangest thought crossed his mind... The biological-mechanoid that was Carrie was on a different growth schedule compared to the rest of the world. She had originally met Sarge as a young girl, but was now almost a late teenager. In real-time she'd probably be nearing eighteen.
As Pyst manically tore through the grunt stupid enough to fire on a man totting a mini gun, Sarge and Carrie smiled, awkwardly. She helped him to his feet, and he was reminded, by the throbbing pain in his fingers, how extremely durable Carrie was. He smiled at her as she walked ahead. Turning to Pyst, Sarge found a nine-inch combat knife placed inches beneath his nose.
"Listen here, and you listen good. I don't care who you are, if I catch you googling at my little girl ever again, I'll shove your balls so far up your ass, that the next time you shit, you'll shit on your balls, d' you got that?" Pyst snarled, his voice sounding like rusted nails dragging across chalk.
Sarge never bat an eye.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, and if you pull a stunt like that again, I actually WILL shove your balls up your ass, till you've got two nuts where your Adam's apple should be."
Zeta, Dark and Triple W exchanged a glance that must mean something to someone somewhere.
Pyst smiled.
Sarge laughed.
"I love you man..."
"I know..."
And it was on this peculiar note, that moments later all hell broke loose.
WWW barely saw what hit him.
The door he had stepped in front of shattered with the force of a small explosion and splintered wood and glass sliced into his arm and side, like a thousand bee stings from a jackhammer. He was thrown back from the air pressure, his back smashing against the opposite wall. He then crumpled with his hands on his knees.
A squad of terrorist militia flowed out of the classroom. Dark was already at work, bringing his sword down on the first through the doorway. Instinctively, he darted away from the opening..
A bullet pierced his trench coat. If he had moved a fraction of a second later, it would have found its way into his chest.
"Doorways! Move!" Sarge yelled. He pumped the shotgun, blasting two of the terrorists coming out of the classroom as he ran to a nearby doorway.
Suddenly remembering the wounded tediz, he swore to himself. Shit, Triple Dubyas!
When he turned around to see where the tediz had been, he saw only blood and splintered wood.
- - -
Eyes. Three. Camera. Around corner to right. Deja was peeking from behind a wall surveying the entrance to security and relayed with her hands the findings back to Chael, Serena and Red Storm. Camera. Sweepers. Four-second blind spots. She timed the sweeps of the first security camera, preparing to enter the hallway, disconnect the first camera, send in Serena for the second camera precisely 1.5 seconds later, disconnect that camera and do the same for the last using Red Storm, with Chael at backup waiting for the signal to open frag and clear the security room, but she stopped. Something was missing. No - someone…
Where's Newbie? Deja signaled to Chael.
Right here. He pointed to Serena.
Not Serena. Sabine.
Sniper mission.
Sniper mission? On her own? Are you out of your goddamn mind? She's new and… Deja didn't know the hand-sign for innocent so she gave the sign for child.
She needs the practice Chael replied.
Practice another day. This is 97 we are up against. I find her.
Security mission? Chael eyes could have said it all. Deja was abandoning their mission.
Good luck with it. I find Sabine.
Deja took off in the direction they entered from. Her mind was ticking in frustration. How was Sabine supposed to carry out a sniper mission when it's practically her first time holding a weapon? Deja thought. But more importantly, she thought why do I care so much?
(Second level of school building block, most likely location of Sabine...)
Deja rounded a corner, scanning the area, finger ready on the trigger of her M4. Two doors and a ladder were in front of her. Pick the wrong exit and she could be dead within minutes. Pick the right one and she could still be dead. Luck definitely wasn't with Deja today. The ladder led into a way high into the wall, the doors to an unknown. Deja had a fear of the unknown. She took the ladder.
Deja crawled as silent as possible through the tunnel. She could see out the other end a small, dimly lit room with a circular window. A location Deja would have chosen herself if she was on a sniper mission. At least the newbie had common sense. Two feet from the exit of the tunnel, Deja halted and held her breath. She picked up sound reverberating off the metal walls of the tunnel.
"…information. Tell me where your men are." A cold, calculating, ruthless, demanding voice. It could only be female.
"I'd rather die." Young, slight quiver at the last syllable. Damn it, it was Sabine's. Deja took out a small round pocket mirror. She extended it as far as she could without it being detected and saw Sabine on the floor with a female soldier standing over her, knife in hand ready to cut one of Sabine's fingers off.
"Death is inevitable, so I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to dismantle you, until I get what I want." There it was again. The voice colder than liquid nitrogen. Deja stepped out from the tunnel. The female was doing too much talking. Time for action.
The female 99er flung a throwing knife at the Iceberg. It just grazed her cheek and stuck into the wall. The Iceberg stayed firm with her back facing Deja who cracked her knuckles.
"I suppose you're my counterpart, then? The 99 version of me, a 97?" The Iceberg directed at Deja.
"I will never compare to a sick murderer like you. Now turn around and face me."
The Iceberg complied, tapping her hand with the knife at the same time. Keeping up her chatty nature she said, "I've heard about you. You're the Captain's cousin."
Deja was reaching the peak of her patience. The 99er fearlessly stepped closer to the 97 until their noses were only inches away. The 97 continued talking. "Isn't it strange how alike we are, how much we have in common? You feel it, don't you. You're feeling it right now. The hunger for blood. We've killed for so long, we've forgotten how to live. Now we just survive. Except, my dear, I plan on living. For you, it's time to die."
Deja half-smiled. "There's just one thing you've forgotten."
The Iceberg raised an eyebrow. "And what was that?"
Deja leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I've already died." And at that, Deja sweeped-kicked the Iceberg. The 97 landed hard on her ass, but, equally as well trained as Deja, rammed her foot into the grey-squirrel's knee joint. Deja reached for a piece of loose timber and batted Iceberg's face with it. Iceberg countered with an offensive blow to Deja's neck and a follow through choke-hold. The oxygen to Deja's brain was being cut off and it felt as if her eyes were going to pop out of her head. The 99er elbowed her opponent in the diaphragm and partially winded her. The Iceberg clutched her ribs and swung a pathetic kick as Deja pulled out her favorite weapon, one she hadn't used for a while. Deja lunged and hip-swung Iceberg to the floor, pinned her with her knee then pulled her head into her lap. Iceberg was panting for breath, Deja was bleeding from her forehead, but that wasn't going to stop her now. With the garrote pulled taught, Deja wrapped it around Icebergs neck and squeezed. Iceberg gasped and spluttered , less and less air coming out each time, until the garrote sunk into flesh, ripped open her jugular until she lay limp in Deja's hands…
- -
After taking care of the security room Deja had run off. He presumed it had something to do with her asking about Sabine. Now seemed like a good time to send out a message that security was taken care of. He grabbed his radio and spoke.
"Yo, yo, yo. This be MC to the squared lettin' every on in the crew know that the narks with the cameras have been silenced. One left the group on other business but the posses still makin' tracks to catch up with somebody. So till we see ya, this be MC of the C sayin' peace." He put the radio away and looked at the others. Red Storm was staring oddly.
"Don't ever say anything like that again." He then continued walking. Serena went past after that just shaking her head. As they started moving again they heard an explosion followed by gunfire. They picked up the pace knowing someone was getting into a fight nearby.
---
One of the soldiers who, by some stroke of utter luck, had survived the onslaught by the 99th Platoon, idiotically charged headfirst in the direction of the lithe panther. The stoic look on the feline's face was usually warning enough to those who opposed him that he was not in the mood to play with his prey; he was not going to give them even the slightest chance. But ignorance pervaded throughout the ranks of these militiamen. They knew not what they were dealing with, what they were fighting against. And so in came the soldier, pulling up his sidearm due to the earlier depletion of his assault rifle. He fired off two rounds as he proceeded on his course of destruction, but neither met their mark. Instead, his weapon was thrown upwards and his aim went wild. Three more rounds slammed into the ceiling, and a deft and harsh knee came upwards, meeting solidly with his gut. The squirrel doubled over in sheer agony, his Glock skittering across the floor. He fell to one knee, at which point Dark threw a perfectly executed right cross. A loud crack resounded throughout the hallway as his fist made contact, effectively shattering a portion of the enemy soldier's skull. It fragmented into his brain, rendering him useless in battle and damn near dead. Blood trickled from his mouth as he collapsed to the ground, convulsing violently.
But the panther was not finished. Oh no, not finished. He leaped over the convulsing opponent to meet yet another squirrel head on. However, in mid air, a bullet barley caught him in the left leg. It skimmed across his flesh, leaving a red streak in its wake. Such a wound was not fatal or serious in any way, but the sheer force with which the bullet had struck its target threw his balance off. As he landed, pain shot through his leg, and his knee gave out. He fell on his back with the racist Grey charging at him, combat knife in hand. A downward stab. A mistake. The feline slammed his left palm into the wrist of his assailant, knocking the attack aside. He then brought an elbow violently upwards, jamming it up under the soldier's nose. He felt the cartilage tear, and the bridge of the nose cracked audibly. The squirrel reared back in pain only to receive even more punishment. A sharp pain pervaded throughout his abdomen, negating the feeling that had plagued his nasal region mere seconds ago. His gaze fell downward to find that his own knife was buried to the hilt within his stomach, with Dark's hand still firmly gripping it. A flash of white - a grin of sorts. Devious. And then a roar of unbearable pain as the weapon was torn from its makeshift sheathe in a manner that could only be described as deeply sadistic. Out seeped the intestines and innards of the militia soldier. He collapsed into his viscera, his eyes blank and dead.
Dark scanned the area. The carnage put him in a violent mood - in a bestial mood. In a rage. A blood lust, almost. He suppressed it as best he could, just waiting for the chance to let loose. And when they found the 97th Platoon, he would truly allow himself to let go. Allow the beast to rise within him.
"I'm coming for you.." Quietly, to nobody in particular.
Sabine kept her eyes half on the fight. And half riveted to the wall she was leaning on. But no matter where she looked Sabine could hear it all. The chipmunk swallowed deeply, she was afraid, and when it was all over she felt guilty. A part of her still refused to tolerate seeing death.
Sabine was still leaning against the wall in a tight huddle when Deja walked over and touched her shoulder, thankfully the good one. "Are you okay?"
For a short while Sabine said nothing and Deja questioned her again. Quietly Sabine spoke. "Do not worry. I told...her...nothing. I said nothing." Her gaze had found the dead 97ers body.
The chipmunk's body quivered as she rose unsteadily, using the wall for balance. For the most part Sabine was not out of commission. She was just hurt, bruised in a few places, her throbbing left shoulder was caustic and blood stained the back of her shirt. But Sabine gritted her teeth against the beatings, she would live.
A rough sigh escaped her lips and she looked her savior in the face. But she said nothing. There was something in Sabine's eyes. It hovered there, mixed in with the fear and self-doubt. There was still a determination. Deja understood and smiled. "Come on. We better get back."
---
In the growing mass of confusion, Sarge never heard the gunshot, but felt the force of the impact in his right shoulder as it spun him round like a spinning top. Years ago he would have dodged a cheap-shot like that, but with his abilities failing he was now at the mercy of brute force, his mind blank and reeling.
His blurred vision made out Dark's silhouette attacking the first wave of assailants, and Zeta retreating whilst Pyst and Carrie appeared to Sarge like twisted daemons, cackling and destroying life.
"Man," he thought, "This is gonna hurt in the morning..."
Somewhere in the deranged thoughts of a bleeding Sarge, a simple song chanted over and over again...
"Today's the day the Tediz bears have their picnic...
"Tediz bears? That ain't right..." His shoulder felt like it was sat on by a fat man eating a hot dog. A brown fuzz was visible in front of him, and it stirred as he moved closer. He reached forward, feeling fluff, and closed his grip, dragging an unconscious Triple W away from the main firefight, where they would hopefully be out of harms way. A steady trail of blood marked their passage, as Sarge's wound continued to bleed freely... He reached for his radio, coughing but one word:
"Medic..."
---
"If you go out in the woods today…"
"Sarge…wake up, Sarge…"
"You're sure of a big surprise…"
"Rico, rise and shine... Come on, look at me…"
Voices, so many voices…all indistinct…blurred faces…
"If you go down to the woods today…"
"…up…Get up now…Rico, open your eyes…"
The pain…the pain was unbearable…burnt flesh…torn ligaments…
"Rico Rodriguez, wake up now, put your uniform on and go to school! Look how late it is, you're not going to make it on time. GET UP NOW!"
Mum threw the sheets of his bed and picked up the glass of water. Eyes half open, he shielded his face from an impending waterfall.
Sleepily he said, "Alright, alright, I'm up." The next second, he was smothered by a small squirrel half his age but of equal strength and equal determination. She was squeezing him round the waist and affectionately punched his arm.
"Hey, sleepy-head." She said, grinning from ear to ear.
"'Morning, Cuz." He replied, hugging her back.
"You said you'd teach me kicks today, remember, Rico? Remember? You promised, Rico." Tears welled in her eyes. She pouted for extra spice to her manipulation.
"My word is my bond, D. This evening after school, I'll teach you everything you need to know about defense." They hugged for a brief moment, then she sprang off the bed and darted into the kitchen. He glowed with a deep sense of pride for his little cousin...
…Breathing was hard. Why was he so wet? What was the stuff coming out of his shoulder? And the pain…
"…You'd better go in disguise…"
The first day of army training. He was in a grassy courtyard on a sunlit summers day along with 12 others of around his young age of 16. The sergeant commanded a fall-in. Rico lined up, chest out, arms flat against his sides, ready for anything. He was nervous, eager to make a good impression, but his attention span was waning. The sergeant was giving his annual, fresh platoon lecture…
"The enemy doesn't care about you. The enemy doesn't respect you. The enemy will kill you, if you let him. The enemy is ruthless. The enemy won't bury our dead. That's what separates us from them."…
…THE PAIN, MAKE IT STOP…
"No way in Hell, Pyst, did that happen to you". Rico was on a bar stool at the counter of Anthrax's bar sharing stories with his men. Pyst sat to his left, Dark on his right and Oreos, CG, Mon, Flatfeet, Twisted, Ajax, Stealth and WWW also on the table holding beer cups, some more drunk than others, and a content atmosphere settled over the bunch. These were some of the finest men Rico had ever met and worked with. They were loyal, hardened warriors. Rico felt that same glow of pride for these fine soldiers.
"Cheers men," he said, raising his glass. "To the 99th Platoon. May its fire burn even when all oxygen is long gone.."
"For ev'ry bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because…"
"I'm sorry, Sarge, we did the best we could… The wounds went pretty deep. They used her own hunting knife… I have it here for you…"
"Where is she? I want to see her." Rico's voice was husky. He could hardly breathe, let alone talk.
The medic's eyes were red, he'd been up all night trying to save his comrade. He stared hard at his C.O., then eventually said, "She's this way."
Rico looked at his cousin's broken body. Her own blood smeared her clothes, her leg in a funny position, but her face…her expression…so still, so peaceful. He half-expected her to just sit up and say she was joking. But she didn't. Deja…Dana…his little cousin…really was dead. He picked up her paw and put it on his tear-stained cheek. It felt so cold… He stayed up all night, cradling Deja's paw, sobbing over her lifeless body, hoping beyond hope that she would wake…He felt so desolate, so alone…How could he have done this? How could he have let her die? He would have traded places with her if he could…Why, Deja, God? Why Deja?...
"Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic."
"Not today, Rico…Not today…"
A paw was dabbing at his forehead, wiping the sweat off with a damp cloth.
"That's it…Open your eyes. Guys, come over here, he's waking up."
Sarge blinked and groaned. His vision was returning, along with a throbbing pain in his shoulder. He made out three figures looking down on him.
"You alright, Sarge? Still alive?" Pyst knocked on Sarge's skull for a response.
"Cut it out, soldier." Sarge rasped.
"Yep. Definitely back to normal."
Sarge looked around at the room they were contained in. Carrie was standing over behind where Pyst now was, Dark, squirrel smeared, gave a nod to Sarge, and Deja was kneeling next to him, wiping his skin clean of blood.
"Nice to see you're awake again."
"Nice to be back. Where are the others?"
"Mon, Chael, Redstorm and Serena are making their way over now from security, Sabine's been sent to get them, Zeta's making sure the terrorists stay in retreat, even if it is just for now, Triple W's conscious and standing guard outside, Oreos should be reporting any minute with status on his group, and now we're waiting for orders." Deja leant in closer for a more private word. "I've got to admit, you had me worried there for a minute, Rico. You went in and out of consciousness, but when you were conscious, you were muttering things. Strange things. Tediz bears picnic? Thinking of taking a holiday with our furry friends sometime soon?"
Sarge smiled. He wasn't one to admit his weaknesses, so he replied, "I ain't goin' anywhere, D, not anytime soon, at least." More quietly, staring intently into her eyes, he said, "And I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Not again. I swear on my life."
Deja looked slightly puzzled. She didn't understand where this was coming from. "Good to know, Cuz. Good to know."
---
-----
"Christ!"
the word itself was not very foreign in Mon's mouth, but the way it was spoken just now was. He had sworn.
He cursed himself, this time, for the misuse of his deity of choice's name and continued driving the threaded needle up and down the shoulder wound, after the iodine.
He and Oreos bolted as soon as the SOS came over the radio, backtracking to the room where they now found themselves. It looked like a lounge of some sort, although it wasn't nearly smart enough to belong to the teachers. Possibly an upper school students lounge.
"I heard that."muttered Sarge silently.
"Yeah? Well forgive me, pops, for I have sinned. "
It took a second for Mon to realize what he said was blasphemy
'Jesus' he cursed himself again.
"...F---!"
' A little stressed...Reverend?' Rico didn't laugh. It would have hurt to laugh at the moment.
"Yeah, sir, I guess you could say. Hold still"
Sarge sucked in his breath again and Mon punctured the wound on more time.
"You okay, Rev?"
"Mostly fine, yeah. Why daya ask?"
Mon could feel the stares of everyone in the room while he toiled. It was somewhat unnerving.
"Everything okay with the Man upstairs?"
"The Big Boss? I guess you could say we're having a bit of a friendly spat."
"Do tell."
"Well, nothing serious. This happened before."
"A spat, ung!" he said while Mon plunged again, this time with a little less care "so bad as that one time when Pyst came round to the ol' Plucker after he lost his wallet?"
"Hell no! If it were that bad, I'd be a full blown atheist by now"
"Damn straight."
"Ey ,Sarge" It was Oreos. He spoke through the entrance. 'Some guy here wants to see us. Part of the hired Mob I think. Want's to negotiate."
"Bring him in" Rico said, without hesitation.
The dissident squirrel was met with the barrels of at least half a dozen guns and more evil looks than he would dare meet. And yet, he still waved the white shirt in his hand that he used as a flag. There was light in the tunnel still, he got this far so surely-
'Dark, have fun.' Rico staccatoed.
It was, finally, not in the infinite black of a gun's barrel that he met his end. But by the infinite lack of compassion dealt by the panther's sword. Impaled, he slid down to the floor and bled even after his heart stopped beating.
"No prisoner, boys and girls. Lets make this count."
---
Sarge's wound had been patched up, Chael, Serena, and Red Storm had already returned. All of the 99ners were together except for--
At the exact moment CG bursts in "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU GUYS BEEN?!"
CG stepped into the classroom, and saw his teammates stocking up, and some lounging around. Then he noticed Sarge.
" Whoa boss, you O.K ?"
Sarge answered. "Only a flesh wound."
"They killed 8 more."
"Yes... we heard..."
Sarge stood, again taking hold of his position as leader. "Ok soldiers. School's out. No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks, and no more of this 97th Platoon shit. Game plan."
"DYM and I got to the auditorium. They have no patrols so it'll be easy getting in. I couldn't see the inside though, don't know the setting."
Chael was able to provide an answer promptly. " I caught 7 entrances to the auditorium down at security. Two are on the second floor, they lead to the balcony - nosebleed sections. The rest are on the main floor. One's a fire exit, two from the backstage and two entrances beneath the balcony. If we go in the last two, they'll definitely see us from the stage."
Sarge nodded. " Then we'll make use of all of the doors. One of us will take the balcony."
Oreos turned to Sabine."Sabine, feel like sniping again?"
Deja and Sabine shot Oreos a dirty look.
"Doesn't matter who goes. Take the owls with you." Interrupted Sarge. Deja looked at him curiously.
" Night vision? Why would we need those?"
" After you report the scene, the lights will be cut. One soldier will do that job. The rest of us will move in. Take out all 97s first. Let no red squirrels die." The plan was straight and to the point.
"I'll cover the balcony." Oreos volunteered.
Sabine took off the Sniper Rifle strapped behind her back, and handed it over to Oreos. He attached the night vision scope, and laid his K7 on the teachers desk. It would have been too much to carry.
(And this is the end of chapter 4. Yes its shorter than chapter 3. Sorry about that. But after this moment the mission shifts into another high gear. The fur will really start flying next time. So I thought it best to let this chapter end here. Hope you're enjoying! Please R&R.)