ACT 1: Sniper
Chapter One
Their Last Stand Together
He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot will be victorious. - Sun Tzu, The Art of War
72 Hours Prior...
There's only one word that could ever truly describe the sound a dying man makes in his last torturous moments of life before the pass completely, and he's left on a ravaged battlefield that shows now mercy or pity for his valiant fight – unearthly. That sound never got easier to hear or ignore, even with sight focused through the small lens of a rifle mounted scope, crosshairs lined up over the direct center of an enemy's forehead. The loud crack of the rifle going off could never drown the screams out, even with the thunder of several other Lancers roaring only feet away. And there's nothing else in the world that can rival it; send a chill down your spine and force you to come to grips with your own mortality than that scream in the midst of all out blood-stained battle.
A fine spray of crimson puffed into the air only milliseconds after the bullet found its mark and turned the fully formed and functioning head of a Locust Drone into spattered mush that now either covered the ground or flecked the faces and armor of its 'brothers'. The sound of the rifle's reload was almost deafening in the ears of the soldier behind it as the reticle lined up another target that seemed far too keen on popping up and down from behind cover to spray sporadic bursts on the Gears. The Drone was predictable, far too predictable in fact as the soldier behind the rifle counted three seconds beneath their breath before squeezing the trigger. In the second it took for the Drone to stand up in a half-crouch from its source of cover, the bullet drilled its way through the spot right between the Drone's eyes. Another head-shot, and another grub down.
"Ah fuck!"
The wail of the downed and rapidly bleeding Gear howled up above the din of gunfire, blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth as he coughed and sputtered to be rid of the metallic taste that only further pushed him into a sense of greater panic. Both of his heavily gloved hands were pressing down upon his upper thigh the best they could, blood seeping through his fingers in streams that were coming far to quickly to be anything but a horrific sign of extensive damage. Stark terror had engraved itself upon the battle-worn and scared face of the Gear, eyes wide and nostrils flaring as he sucked in ragged breaths before choking with a sputter as blood continued to foam up the back of his throat. It had been a one in a million shot that hit target, the bullet finding its way perfectly between the plates of armor that were meant to protect the now dying Gear. The femoral artery had been hit, the vein having immediately retracted up towards the pelvis the split-second it was severed. Death by cause of exsanguination was imminent.
His wailing howls of terror were not unnoticed by his comrades, his 'brothers in arms', that were focused on the enemy with Lancers firing a steady feed of lead into the Locust Horde that had them pinned. The sudden spurt of a thin jet stream of crimson didn't go unnoticed either as the GEAR continued fervently to apply as much pressure as possible to the wound. A hand came down and took a firm hold of the armored breastplates' collar, and with a sudden show of battle-induced strength, the hand gave a great jerk and hauled the nearly flatGear up into a sitting position against the concrete barricade. A helmet enshrouded face leveled with that of the wounded Gear, the eerie glow of the blue optics in the helmet reflected nothing back to the dying man.
"It won't stop bleeding!" He shouted, the cold vice-like grip of panic having long since set in as he felt his body starting to grow weaker with every passing second. "Hawx! I don't know what to do!"
The hand of the helmet-wearing Gear yanked him forward a bit, putting a space between his armored back and the concrete barricade for a few seconds. The audible click of the helmet's outside channels of its built in Tac/Com went unheard, but the static-filled and distorted voice of the Gearinside of the helmet was heard as plain as day, although shouted and raised in volume to be heard. "KR's are inbound for an EVAC! You have got to keep calm Riviera!"
The wounded Gear, thirty-six year old Ricardo Riviera of Omega Squad, shook his head vigorously in response to the information coming from his comrade. "No pilot in his right mind would fly a fucking EVAC into this place!" He shouted, face contorting into a mask of twisted pain as a white hot fire shot up through his leg. Both hands clamped and squeezed at the burning source that throbbed beneath his thigh plate, blood spurting upwards in small streams through whatever space it could find in between his fingers. "Fuck!"
There was a restrained jerking motion forced back by the Gear called Hawx, the attempt to dodge being hit with Riviera's blood flattened immediately as the instinct to aid in the effort of staving off death for as long as possible until the King Ravens arrived to lift the mixed squad out of what had quickly escalated into 'hot zone'. The hand that had been keeping a hold on Riviera's breastplate armor had come off and was now firmly pressing down on top of the Gears own two hands that were slipping off the now blood slicked plates. Hawxs' other hand held a Longshot rifle steady on his bent knee, and had been after several head shots on the enemy allowed him time to duck down behind cover.
"Omega, this is KR-Six Six, we are inbound on your position; ETA in three!"
The chopper pilot's call came in a gurgled mess of static that signaled several pairs of eyes to turn upwards towards the grey-colored sky that was the grim backdrop to the fight for survival. The black body of the King Raven was nowhere in sight yet, but the chopping whirl of its blades could be heard even in the midst of the firefight. The sound was something akin to that of the sweet lullaby of angels to the ears of the Gears even as they turned their attention back to the Locust Horde that were pressing towards them.
"HAWX! WE NEED YOU TO GET UP ON HIGHER GROUND!" The booming order came from a grizzled looking Gear about fifteen feet down the right side of the barricade. Scars littered both of his bare arms alongside the well worn ink that colored his already leathered brown skin. With a close cropped shock of brilliant white hair and thick mutton-chop sideburns that ran along his jawline and connecting with his mustache, Lieutenant Edgar 'Griz' Butler was big burly intimidating man. Popping up momentarily, he let loose a hailstorm of Lancer gunfire into a Drone that had dodged out from behind the car shell it took cover behind. All ten rounds fired hit their target and laid out the grub in a pool of its own blood where it twitched from damage suffered at its head and died. Dropping back behind cover, the lieutenant swiveled the stumpy remains of a well chewed cigar into the very right corner of his mouth as he turned his dark gaze towards Hawx and the downed Riviera. "Ah, shit." He grumbled before hoisting himself up into a crouch and scrambled towards the pair.
Hawx had already turned his attention back out towards the battle, Riviera's Lancer in hand and letting loose with the automatic fire; a hand still helping to keep pressure on Riviera's wound the best he could. Riviera was looking far paler than he had been not more than two minutes ago, his breathing was much more labored and coming in ragged inhales as coughed up blood and spat it out weakly.
Several shots from the Locust forces pinged off the barricade and barely missed hitting Griz in the head before he slammed sideways up against the concrete at Riviera's side. "What the fuck happened to you?" He drawled while lifting his Lancer and sending a squeeze of blindfire into the grubs.
"Femoral artery was hit, or at least that's what it looks like with all the blood." Hawx grunted through his helmet's Tac Com while popping off several rounds as a Drone attempted to break cover in the hopes of lobbing a grenade in their direction. Even without the aid of the Longshot's scope, Hawx nicked the grenade and forced it into an explosion that ripped the Drone's arm from its body and blew away almost all of its face. "We've got to get him to the EVAC site ASAP!"
Griz muttered under his breath as he wiped a hand across his brow to be rid of the sweat before it dripped down to sting his eyes. Looking passed Hawx, Griz spotted two of his own squad reloading their weapons and quickly formulated a plan. "Alright! Hawx, get your ass up high and start picking these fuckers off; JACKSON! POTTER! GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE!" The man had a voice that needed no help from anything that could amplify it.
There was a brief moment of hesitation on the part of Hawx as his orders meant he would have to take away the extra pressure he had been applying to his squad mate's wound. Before Hawx could even register what was happening, the helmet wearing Gear was shoved with authority in the shoulder as Griz slapped his own bare hands down in Hawxs' place. He leveled his narrowed gaze on Hawx, giving no room for argument to whatever thought of protest he had. Without a word, Hawx stiffly nodded while laying down Riviera's Lancer and grabbed his Longshot. Swinging the weapon around to attach it to the magnetic clamp on the back of his armor, Hawx stayed low as he pushed himself up into a crouch and hustled back away from the barricade.
The streets of the cities the Gears often found themselves fighting through against the Locust Horde, were never short of cover in every form available to a soldier with a gun. The blown-out fronts of the various buildings that lined the upturned and shattered streets acted as rear guards for the pinned GEARs, but they were also the greatest playground available to a sniper. While the insides of what had been a multi-storied business building were a thrashed mess of rubble, that was hardly a challenge for someone like Hawx, one of the smaller sized Gears operating in Grizs' Omega Squad. A far slimmer build and less bulky armor than his squad mates, Hawx easily picked his way through the mess that acted as an obstacle course towards prime ground high above on what was left of the buildings' roof. Weaving in and out through fallen timbers and walls, Hawx almost sprinted up the weakened stairs and slowed only when he reached the roof access.
The sounds of the battle outside were muffled but it could still be heard with all its gunfire, explosions, and curses mixing its massive chaotic disorder into one surge of noise that flooded through the small doorway as Hawx slammed shoulder into the locked flimsy metal door. With a loud but unheard bang! the door flew open and slammed against the brick wall behind it. The second he was running across the roof, Hawx was yanking the Longshot off his back and crouching low to near level with the rise of the roof lip.
"KR-Six Six this is Omega Squad; we need an immediate EVAC on a man down!"
"Understood Omega, we are inbound on your position but cannot touch down until hotzone is nulled."
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" Corporal Jameson Potter growled as his Tac/Com buzzed with the chatter between the chopper pilot and Griz. "What the hell do they expect us to do?! We're low on ammo, and we've got injured Gears!" The redheaded corporal nearly snarled as he pulled the trigger of his Lancer to pump lead into the several Locust Drones that were looking to try a flanking attempt.
Griz growled under his breath as he multi-tasked between fighting the Drones and applying pressure to Riviera's leg, swearing in response to the negative feedback he was getting from the KR pilot. A brief moment of relief would soon appear as he heard the cracking snap of a rifle shot echo sharply above their heads and the gutter squawk of some Drone bellowing - "SNIPER!" - as one of its own hit the ground without a head. "About fucking time that kid got up there."
"I-It's a-all good s-sir!" Riviera choked out in a stutter coated in blood that spattered from his mouth as he spoke up. "H-Hawx is gonna null the hotzone, h-he can make the i-impossible happen!" The normally tanned Latino was horridly pale now, a forced grin straining his expression as his breathing was becoming ragged and strained.
Another crack from the rifle began to work its magic in boosting the morale of the Gears fighting beneath the thin looming shadow of the building at their backs. Fatigue was starting to eat away at them, but somehow the echoing cracks of the rifle firing in on the enemy pushed up a new resource of adrenaline from the bottom of their barrels. Gritting their teeth, the Gears of Omega Squad dug in and opened up a line of fire the tore through several unfortunate Drones that were ducking out from behind cover. As the enemy line began to weaken, Griz dropped back behind the barricade and nearly roared into his Tac/Com.
"KR-SIX SIX, WE'RE PULLING BACK FROM THE NULLING HOTZONE! WE NEED AN EVAC NOW!!"
"Roger that Omega; pull back behind the building you're in front of, we are landing now!"
"About fucking time!" Jackson bellowed while pulling his last frag grenade from the chain loop on his vest and yanked the pin as he swung it around several times before lobbing it through a high arc towards the enemy barricade. "Potter! Help me with Riviera, we're getting him to the King Raven first!" The dark skinned Sergeant slammed an open palm against his buddy's back before scrambling towards Griz and the wounded Riviera.
"EMERGENCE HOLE!" Hawxs' voice cut in across all lines.
"You've gotta be kidding me!" Griz snarled while daring a peek out from behind the barricade and swore through every four-letter word he knew and then some as he caught sight of the tell-tale dust cloud rising from across the street. "Hawx, pick 'em off! We're getting Riviera to the landing King Raven! Pull back once we're all behind the building!" Griz hollered into his Tac/Com and didn't wait for a reply from the squad's sniper as he gestured harshly for Jackson and Potter to grab Riviera and retreat.
No one had to be told twice on the retreat as they began tactically backing up from the barricade quickly before the new line of fire from the Locust began ripping into the concrete blocks. Several of the older Gears waited at the barricade, providing cover fire as the wounded and those helping the wounded back pedaled towards the rear of the building behind them. It didn't take more than a few seconds before they were pulling back as well, popping shots at anything that looked like a Drone's head as they stayed low in a crouch. The crack of Hawxs' sniper rifle continued to sound above the Gears, picking off anything and everything the smaller Gear could get his crosshairs over, the main focus being the Drones jumping up out of the Emergence Hole.
Another crack and the grey and red spray of a Drone's exploding head back washed over the following Drone that had been following right behind the first one. Blinded temporarily, the Drone stopped in mid-stride and began wiping at its face furiously with its free hand to free its sight, a waste of time really as its own head had a bullet bore its way through its right eye and out the back of its head. Two steps and the Drone dropped dead face first into the dust and dirt covered street. It's fall was overlooked as others of its own kind as they rushed passed and dove for cover with Hammerbursts firing after the retreating Gears.
"Hustle up! They're still coming!"
The muffled whomp of the King Raven's blades chopped through the thick air, its black and scuffed up body a blurred figure in the squinted eyes of the GEARs that sprinted for it as fast as their heavily weighed down bodies would allow. Hawxs' voice through the Tac Com, though static ridden and distorted, only succeed in pushing them forward faster. Ahead of the rest of Omega Squad, Potter and Jackson carried the groaning and wheezing Riviera who let out a howl as an intense amount of pain shot up his leg from the jostling run he was being pushed through. Salvation was in sight though, several crew members of KR-66 were standing outside of the chopper ready to help the men of Omega Squad into the chopper. They were close; close to leaving behind the battlefield, close to being swept out of harm's way, close to returning to Jacinto. There was nothing that could deter them from what was before them, the King Raven was the only thing they had their sights locked on and tunnel-visioned.
"...um...!" Static choked the Tac/Com lines in distorted fuzz. "...ak!!" It was if the voice trying to push through was being muffled by hands, it was horribly distorted and almost unheard through the choking fuzz. "BRU...!!...." Static. Their own heavy breathing. The thudding whomp of the chopper blades. The pounding pulse of their heart beat. The heavy tread of their running steps. "BRUMAK!!"
The scream cut through the static like a bomb, shattering the barrier that had attempted to bar the message from getting through to the retreating Gears and the chopper pilots. It ripped into their ears like an explosion, and all at the same time the world suddenly shuddered beneath their feet in one massive surge that held the same feeling as carpet being yanked out from under them. The bellowing roar of the monstrous war weapon that the Locust had engineered thrummed through the air and sent a chill through the blood of every Gear. The crew of the King Raven were pointing frantically behind the Gears, the hollers and screams of full grown men shattered the buzzing static on the Tac/Com, and before any of them knew how close the Brumak was... the world exploded about them before their vision was lost and everything went black.