HALO: HELLJUMPER
By M. Cartwright
A/N: Well guys, here's Chapter Two. It took me awhile to write this and I went through a few drafts of it before finally coming up with something I liked. When I finally got my ideas straightened out I managed to churn this chapter out in the span of a few hours. I'm pleased with it but I'm not exactly sure how well I wrote out the combat scenes. Lemme know what you think about them and, as always, any tips, advice, and criticism you give me would be greatly appreciated.
But, anywho, here it is. Enjoy!
CHAPTER II: CIVVIES IN DISTRESS
2702 Hours Local Time, July 5th, 2550 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \
PPD Blocking Position, District Gate, Business District A, Pearl City,
Crystal, Umbra System
Normally at this hour all would be hauntingly quiet.
There would not be a single vehicle on the road save for the occasional random car passing by. Not a soul would be wandering the streets. All of the businesses, stores, and clubs closed and locked up. At the moment the city should have been asleep. Or trying to, anyway.
But the night was normal no longer.
The skyline was lit with bright, sporadic flashes of orange and blue light. Thundering booms resounded across entire city blocks. Streaks of twenty millimeter anti-aircraft fire tore through obsidian skies towards tiny specks of purple that were descending from the distant clouds to the metropolis below. Screams and shouts of terror, surprise, and agony were barely audible over the staccato of gunfire and chorus of explosions. A symphony of chaos permeated the senses of those caught in the middle of it.
"Somebody close the goddamn gate!"
Green and blue streams of light soared over Staff Sergeant Ward's head as he tightened his grip on the MA5B Assault Rifle in his grasp. The display would almost be beautiful if it weren't for its lethal intent. Just beyond the open gateway that separated Business District A from Residential District E was a lance of Covenant troops led by an Elite Minor. The blue-armored alien stood ducked behind an abandoned car in the middle of the road, barking out orders to his subordinates who currently had Ward's team and a small squad of police pinned behind cover. Six Grunts and three Jackals laid down an arcing barrage of plasma and needle fire that threatened to drop anyone who popped out of cover.
The only way to bring an abrupt end to the skirmish would be to close the gate just ahead of the road block that had been set up. Metal barriers that had sprung from the road were the only source of hard cover the humans had from the incoming barrage of fire. The distance between the gate control console and the barriers was at least fifteen feet. A long distance as far as they were concerned. Just as Ward was about to issue orders to his men, one of the officers' under Lieutenant Lacroix charge attempted to step out from cover and return fire.
A grave mistake he'd pay for.
Dearly.
Before the young cop could even bring his pistol to bear on the enemy he was on the ground, his armor smoldering from superheated plasma. "Shit! Man down!" Lacroix barked grimly. Jon frowned and pointed to Petty Officer Third Class Bradley Cooper, Charlie Six's corpsman. "Go get him on my mark!"
Cooper nodded solemnly, his face invisible behind the opaque visor of his helmet. "Team, Lead, everyone toss frags and lay down suppressing fire! Cover Two as he retrieves the casualty!"
Five acknowledgment lights blinked to existence on his Heads Up Display. He nodded to himself in affirmation and reached for his bandolier, ripping an M9 HE-DP fragmentation grenade from it. He pressed his thumb on the primer and prepared to throw it. Counting down from three in his head, he hit the primer, shouting "frag out" as he tossed it as far as he could towards the Covenant position. Five more frags came in its wake followed by bright, thundering explosions mixed with the screams and shrieks of dying Covenant.
"Mark!" the Staff Sergeant exclaimed as he stood up from behind the barrier and squeezed the trigger, releasing a barrage of 7.62mm fire upon the enemy. The others, including the Pearl Police officers, joined him with their own weapons—forcing the Covenant not killed by the grenades that went off into cover—while Cooper bolted towards the downed cop full tilt.
As soon as the corpsman reached the man, he wrapped his hands under his armpits and dragged him behind a barrier next to Lieutenant Lacroix. While Cooper checked on the wounded officer, Ward decided it was time to get the gate closed while the ODSTs and cops still had the advantage. "Cover me!" Jon barked over the roar of weapons fire. He instantly sprinted towards the control console as fast as his legs could carry him. Bolts of plasma smashed into the concrete underneath his feet, only serving to motivate him more to get to the gate controls.
As soon as he reached them and out of the line of fire, he held his assault rifle off to the side with one hand and punched in the commands to close the gate with his other. Machinery wirred and creaked in response as the one and a half inch thick wall of titanium extended from the wall. The Covenant let loose one final barrage of fire upon the PPD road block before the massive door shut and sealed, cutting them off. Jon backed away from the console and exhaled a relieved sigh as he cast a glance over at the road block. The cops manning the position looked weary and fatigued, but it looked as if no one else was injured.
With that in mind, Jon crossed the distance between him and his corpsman to check on Lacroix's casualty. "Coop, status?"
Coop stood up and glanced over his shoulder at the Staff Sergeant. "He's dead, mate," he said grimly with a distinct Australian accent. "He suffered third and fourth degree burns all over and had gone into shock by the time I'd gotten to 'im."
"Damn it all," cursed Lacroix with an accent Ward couldn't quite place. "Constable Jones had a fam'ly."
Ward frowned behind his visor. He had a family too and couldn't imagine how devastated they'd be if he were to be killed battling the Covenant. It was moments like these that helped him remember why he hated this war. No one had asked for it; no one had wanted it. But, for some God awful reason the Covenant didn't care. They saw humanity as an affront to their gods and they would see every last one exterminated from the face of the galaxy. How many men and women like Constable Jones had lost their lives to their genocidal campaign? How many more were going to die?
A lot more if we don't end it soon, Jonathan thought grimly. "I'm sorry for your loss, Lieutenant. Truly. But, right now we need to-"
The Staff Sergeant was cut off by the crackle of the radio in his ears. He held up his free hand as a gesture to wait while he listened to the incoming transmission. "CP to Charlie Six, come in, Charlie Six." The gruff voice of Master Sergeant Terry Childers droned in his ear.
"Charlie Six here, go ahead."
"Be advised: you have new orders. Standby."
"Standing by," he replied, his voice monotone.
While he waited, Jon thought he heard the rumble of Warthog engines off in the distance. He glanced in the direction that the sound was coming from and spotted the bright white luminescence of headlights coming down one of the adjacent streets towards them. He instinctively furrowed his brow in curiosity.
"Charlie Six, your orders are to proceed into Residential District Echo and head to Apartment Complex Two-One Bravo," the Master Sergeant stated. "We have dope on a handful of civvies that refused to evacuate to a shelter need rescuing. You should be receiving a NAV marker to their location shortly. Recover and escort the civvies to a convoy of Marines halted at the on-ramp to Diamond Freeway. They'll transport them back to the Green Zone. How copy?"
"Solid copy; Interrogative: what about the cops manning this position?"
"An Army platoon, callsign Hammer Three, should be arriving at your twenty now to relieve you," answered Childers.
As if on cue a line of Warthogs came into view, filling up the roundabout behind the road block rather quickly before coming to a stop. Jon smirked and nodded his head at no one in particular. "Roger," he said quietly, "Orders received and acknowledged. We're oscar mike now. Out." With that, he cut the connection and turned to face the police lieutenant.
"We just received orders to head out into the next district to save some civvies," he explained, extending his hand to Lacroix. "It's been a pleasure working with you. The Army'll take it from here."
Lacroix nodded and took his hand, giving it a firm shake. "The pleasure's all mine, Troopa. Good luck an' stay safe."
The Staff Sergeant nodded curtly and set the frequency to SQUADCOM. He clicked the mike and spoke into the piece. "Team, this is Lead, we have new orders. The dogs pulling up are going to relieve us. We're headed into the Residential District to rescue some civvies holed up in Apartment 21-B. Anything you wanna say before we head out?"
"Yeah. I shoulda got Mercedes' number," chimed MacDoyle.
Jonathan chuckled and shook his head. Then he cut the connection and started towards the gate controls as the soldiers of Hammer Three exited their vehicles and began to take up positions at the road block. With all the extra fire power he wasn't too concerned about the Covenant lance that was likely still on the other side of the massive titanium door. As soon as he reached the controls he punched the command in to open the gate.
As the door regressed into the wall to admit them into the Residential District, the alien warble of an Elite sounded—and forty-plus soldiers alongside the cops opened up on the Covenant. The firefight was over before the gate had disappeared, and the street beyond was coated in alien blood and bullet holes. Jon grinned evilly. That was payback for killing Jones, he mused.
He waved his squad forward and marched to the other side of the gate. He stopped for a moment to take in his surroundings. The narrow street extended in front of him for thirty meters with a t-intersection at the end of the thirty meters. A row of street lights ran along the length of the road at mathematical intervals, providing bright yellow luminescence within the scope of their boundaries. Everything in between and behind the lights was cast in shadows. Good. That'll make stealth a lot easier.
He waved his squad forward and ordered them to proceed in a staggered formation. Six Helljumpers advanced on either side of the road, with the Staff Sergeant on point, clinging to the edge of the road in case they needed to duck into the shadows. They moved slowly and cautiously, their weapons not quite up to bear, but at the ready nonetheless. So far there was no sign of activity. Ward wasn't sure what to make of that.
As the ODSTs approached the intersection, Ward brought his fist up, signaling his men to halt. He carefully slinked his way along the wall of the building at the corner of the intersection and carefully leaned out from the corner. He scanned the area ahead only for his eyes to fall upon a group of Covenant roughly halfway down headed there way. Mumbling an expletive under his breath, he retreated around the corner and cast a look at his men, who were staring at him expectantly behind polarized visors.
"Team, contact," he whispered into the mike. "Covenant patrol, eight tangos, headed directly for us. Hide in the shadows and wait for them to round the corner. Then light 'em up and standby for further orders."
He didn't wait for their acknowledgments. Quickly maneuvering into the deepest part of the shadowed sidewalk, he dropped down to one knee and aimed his rifle at the edge of the corner. He'd wait until the last Covie rounded it before pulling the trigger. Deciding to make use of what little time they had until the patrol reached them, Ward blinked at the light bulb icon on his Heads Up Display, activating his Visual Intelligence System/Reconnaissance, or VISR, and watched as his vision settings shifted. Walls and buildings were outlined in blue, friendlies in green, and the enemy in red. Everything else appeared to him as a dull green hue.
When the first tango emerged from around the corner, a Grunt, the VISR immediately tagged him in a red outline. One-by-one the members of the Covenant patrol emerged, with a Major Domo Elite—identified by its maroon armor—bringing up the rear. Jon brought his finger to the trigger and squeezed. The ambush lasted no more than fifteen seconds as six weapons burped a hailstorm of lead towards the unsuspecting aliens. The last to fall was the Elite, whom stood frozen in a state of shock before falling to a burst from Ward's assault rifle in a purple-blooded heap.
Lowering the still smoking barrel of his MA5B to aim harmlessly at the ground, Ward blinked at the map icon on his VISR. Instantly the street before him was replaced by a digital satellite overview of the district they were in. His position and that of his team was marked with a blinking grey triangle while their destination was marked by a green square and a readout of the distance in meters. According to the map they were seven city blocks from where they needed to be. He scrolled through the map and the quickest and safest route to the civilians.
He then closed the map and spoke to his team over comms. "Alright, we're going to cross the road to the other side and maneuver through a network of alleys towards the NAV marker. Myself, One and Three will cross first," he said, receiving acknowledgments from Corporal Thomas and Lance Corporal Wilson. "The rest of you will cross when we're on the other side."
Jon depressed the 'talk' button and approached the corner again. He performed a quick scan of the road to make sure no more Covenant were approaching, then booked it to the other side with his weapon at the ready. Once he reached the other side he aimed down the road the patrol had come from with his finger resting on the trigger. Once he felt the taps on his shoulder from Thom and Willie, indicating they'd cross, he keyed the mike again. "Set. Move."
The pitter patter of feet pounding on concrete resounded in his ears followed by a trio of light pats on his left shoulder to let him know the others had crossed successfully. Jon lowered his rifle and quickly crept his way up to the front, stepping into formation behind Thomas, then lightly tapped him on the shoulder to communicate that he had point. The Helljumper nodded and brought his weapon to bear before moving forward. The squad slinked along the wall to the entrance to the alley. Thomas pivoted into the alley and the rest of the team followed suite.
As the six troopers stealthily crept through the dark, narrow alley that stretched for several meters before branching off in different directions, Ward contemplated all that had happened in the last few hours since the beginning of the invasion.
The drive to Camp Frasier from the Seaside District had been hell. Aside from having to constantly swerve to avoid cars and frantic pedestrians, they had to continually avoid becoming a target for the Covenant air patrols that were wreaking havoc all over the city. After over a dozen detours and a lengthy run on the freeway to the Government District, the five ODSTs had arrived at the base. When they pulled into the parking lot of the Frasier's HQ building, they ran into Cooper who was waiting for them outside.
Ward led his team inside and he met up with Captain Schruger, the commanding officer of Charlie Company. He briefed them on the situation. The Covenant had arrived in-system thirty minutes prior to the attack and were detected by a deep space monitoring station. The station was destroyed and the Covenant made an in-system slipspace jump to Crystal. The Navy immediately responded and engaged them, but the bastards managed to deploy aerial forces planet-side to begin softening things up prior to ground forces being dispatched. Roughly an hour after Charlie Six had regrouped at Camp Frasier did the first drop-ships full of Covenant troops begin landing.
Ward's team had been dispatched to the road block they had just left to reinforce the local police unit. For awhile everything had been peaceful and quiet… or, relatively peaceful, anyway. The gunfire, explosions, and death throes of humans and aliens alike had been disconcerting. Then, the Covenant lance they'd just dealt with showed up. And a good man lost his life, Ward thought angrily.
As the team rounded a corner, the warble of Grunt broke his train of thought. Ward raised his fist in the air and moved ahead of Thomas. He approached a corner that led to an adjacent alley and peeked round the bend. Standing in the middle of the alley with its back turned to him was a scarlet armored Grunt with a bandolier wrapped around its chest wielding a Needler. He craned his head towards his men and communicated silently that he spotted contact and for them to cover him.
Carefully, Jon started to creep his way towards the stubby alien, keeping one foot in front of the other. Slowly he retrieved his combat knife from the sheath on the side of his armored chest plate. He extended his non-knife hand in front of him in preparation to grab the bastard. It was totally clueless as to what was about to become of it. When he was less than a few inches behind it, he grabbed the Grunt by its shoulder and spun it around in one swift motion, then drove the blade of the knife into its skull between its eyes.
It hadn't even had time to make a noise.
Jon tore the knife from its skull as bright blue blood began to gush from the slit between its eyes and its body sprawled to the floor. He grinned evilly and returned the weapon to its sheath, then unslung his MA5B from its resting place on the magnetic back plate of his armor. Then he motioned for his men to fall in on him and continued moving.
It took Charlie Six several minutes of carefully crossing streets and traversing the maze of alleys before reaching the road that crossed in front of their destination. The Staff Sergeant stepped out onto the street beyond and was met with a sight of abrupt abandonment. Cars were stopped in their lanes—a few still running—with their doors wide open. Signs of battle were abound with scorch marks and bullet impacts marked all over the topography of the street. A few of the street lights were either out or flickering, with one at the far end emitting sparks from a broken bulb. The NAV marker for the apartment building where they'd find the civilians was fifteen meters away on their right.
The Helljumpers pushed forward in silence as they approached the building. When they reached the front entrance to the complex, the group stacked up along the wall and awaited the go ahead to breach. Ward nodded and stepped through the threshold of the door, breaking right as he cleared the corner closest to him before sweeping his rifle towards the center of the room.
They found themselves in a lobby that had the same air of abandonment as the street outside. It was eerie and disconcerting in Ward's opinion. He absentmindedly checked his map which brought up a floor plan for the building. The marker to their objective was on the second floor. Jon glanced at the doors to the elevator at the far end of the lobby and considered using it—but thought better of it—and instead led his team through a door that led to a room that acted as a buffer before reaching the stairwell that would take them to the upper floors.
The team traveled their way up the stairs to the second floor and pushed their way through the door. They were met with a hallway that stretched several meters before cutting to the left into another stretch of corridor. Doors into individual apartments were on either side of the corridor. The Staff Sergeant glanced at the door closest to him on the left that read '1-B'. He nodded and followed the corridor before cutting into the adjacent corridor. He followed that one until he reached his destination. Apartment 21-B. The grizzled ODST leader lowered his weapon and rapped his knuckles against the door three times.
Suddenly, it flew open and he felt someone grab him firmly by the shoulders. He was then yanked off his feet and slammed into a wall with enough force to wind him. His vision blurred and he coughed as he struggled to catch his breath. When his vision finally started to focus, he was met with a terrifying sight.
He was staring directly down the barrel of a pistol.