"Hostiles, dead ahead!" Johnson yelled out in the inn's narrow corridor.
Rodriguez hastily pointed his gun towards the enemies' direction, not even bothering to aim down the rifle's sights as he squeezed on the trigger. The M96AS Mattock he held bucked in his hands, the fairly new and unused weapon rapidly coughing out millimeter-sized hyper-accelerated rounds downrange. Several of the slugs hit a pair of mercenaries barreling down towards their position, with the first one immediately taking cover at a gap provided by a nearby door, his K-barriers swiftly flashing into life. The second one wasn't as fortunate, having lost his shields and immediately going down hard without a fight.
Four more mercs quickly took their downed brethren's place, opening up with their own weapons as they advanced using fire and maneuver. The corner of the wall, in which the former colonel had used to take cover, instantly burst into a shower of orange flickers as the opposition's own shots came through. He tore away his face on the edge of the partition and blind fired his weapon, trying ineffectively to fight back under cover.
The rifle suddenly clicked and hissed empty, making him curse at his distracted brain again for not counting on his weapon's shots.
"We need to move sir," Suzumi said while firing off his M12 Locust SMG from the hip. "they'll pin us down if we stay here."
"I know! I'm working on it." Rodriguez replied as he ejected the spent clip on his rifle and replaced it with a new one. He tried peering at the edge of his cover to fire precisely, but he was just rewarded with the same results as before, with surprisingly accurate fire from the enemy driving him back to concealment. "Walters!"
"On it, sir." The XO responded offhandedly as he exited from cover. The former major aimed his N7 Valiant sniper rifle, and fired two shots in quick succession along the slim passageway. Two more mercs went down quickly out of the picture, each of them with a single entrance wound situated right between their lifeless eyes. The remaining three hostiles saw what was happening all around them and tried to flee at the elevator they were guarding, but several shots from Walters' rifle and Johnson's M22 Eviscerator shotgun prevented both of them from reaching there alive, with their carcasses rolling on the floor.
"Come on," Rodriguez beckoned with a wave once the threats were eliminated, "let's move."
The rest of them of hurriedly sprinted out of their stations, avoiding the bleeding, bullet-riddled corpses that were strewn about everywhere and acquiring the deceased's thermal clips, which wasn't much. Although it was only a short dash towards the spacious elevator compartment, all of them were completely out of breath as they panted out of sheer exhaustion.
Suzumi pressed the glowing holographic interface in front of him, and it wasn't long before the doors slid close and the elevator car they were all in shook with movement, slowly taking them down towards the inn's ground floor where the rest of the mercs were surely waiting for all of them.
Behind the group was Cortez, who gently placed the scarcely conscious Perry down on the metallic floor, checking to see if the gravely wounded arms dealer was still with the living. The man was going even more paler by the minute, and just looking at the guy further didn't really help any matters.
"How is he, Steve?"
"He's holding, Henry. But barely," The shuttle pilot answered as he checked the man's medi-gel filled wound on the left arm. "guy's not going to last long, I can tell you that."
"Who the hell were those guys?" Walters asked earnestly.
"They're Blue Suns, a mercenary outfit on their way to becoming a full-blown crime syndicate; in short, very bad hombres."
"I heard about them. Extortion, racketeering, kidnapping. The whole nine yards. Damn." Suzumi said as he slid himself to the floor with a downcast expression. "This sucks."
"…Mordin." Perry slowly muttered as he lazily swayed his head from side-to-side with his eyes closed. Rodriguez just gave the man a confused look.
"What?"
"…Gozu…District…clinic…"
"What's he talking about?" Suzumi asked. Cortez, who was checking on Perry's blood pressure from a device he procured earlier, answered back.
"While you guys were in that firefight earlier, he just kept on rambling about some doctor who runs a clinic in the Gozu District."
"The what?" Johnson said out loud as he joined in the conversation. "He's not serious, is he? That's practically on the other side of this station!"
"We don't have much of a choice," The former colonel firmly retorted as turned around to face the doors. "if he thinks we can get help there, then that's where we're going." Johnson's facial features cringed from his superior's new orders.
"Sir, you're not actually considering this, are you? What we need to do now is to fall back and regroup, while we still can."
"And what about him, huh?" Suzumi interjected with an ever louder voice as he stood up from where he was. "We can't just sit here and watch him die."
"He's just slowing us down. Deadweight," The southerner casually remarked. "we'll just leave him somewhere and then come back for him once this blows over."
"In case you've forgotten, they are after this guy! Remember? We are not—"
"All the more reason for us to leave him behind, Rye. He can buy us more time so that—"
"Whaaat?" The former corporal's voice was getting even louder now, his face screaming bloody murder. "That's fucking insane, man! Even for you!"
"I'm just trying to think logically here, alright?"
"And what if it was you that was bleeding over there, huh? You want us to leave you behind, too?"
"That's not what I—"
"Shut up!" Rodriguez roared loudly as he faced both of his arguing subordinates, his angry voice echoing in the space surrounding them as his eyes started darted between the two. "Just shut the fuck up! Both of you! We're taking him to that damned clinic, and that's final!"
"But colonel—!"
The former militia commander grabbed a fistful of Johnson's shirt and slammed him hard to the side of the elevator wall, forcefully placing his sore arm on the neck of the former lieutenant. He was fuming now, and his blood was boiling dangerously with pure frustration and fury.
Johnson looked helplessly as his CO stared dangerously at him, with fear starting to take form on the younger man's face as he gulped audibly, where catchy elevator music was playing in the background.
"Listen," Rodriguez spoke through gritted teeth, barely reigning in on his anger, "we are going to get him patched up, and you are going to help us. Is that understood?"
"I don't trust him, sir." The southerner blurted out quickly, his blue eyes just unsteadily gazing with Rodriguez's brown ones.
The former colonel's grip on the man's shirt tightened as he let out a shaky sigh, looking away from his subordinate's trembling face as he tried to relax from his sudden outburst of anger.
"You don't have to give your heart and soul to the guy, Al. But just trust me, alright? That's all I'm asking."
"I don't wanna die for some guy I just met…sir." Rodriguez faced the former lieutenant and gave him a small, reassuring smile.
"You won't, okay? I promise."
Johnson was just silent, but nonetheless gave his superior officer an understanding nod as Rodriguez released his hold on the man's neck. All the frustrations that were building up inside of him since he left Ferris Fields were starting to take its toll on him, and his little escapade at the little pub on Illium to blow most of it off didn't actually work all the way. He was still one big mess, and it'll take a lot more scotch to even remotely clean it all up.
In hindsight, he couldn't find it in his heart to blame his former lieutenant for being scared; because quite frankly, he himself was even more scared than he actually was. Every step or action he took now was pretty much a gamble. A single mistake could cost him the lives of his men, and with so few of them in number left, he couldn't even afford to lose a single one.
With the odds heavily stacked against them, he could only hope and pray to God (if that son of a bitch was still even out there, considering what just happened) that he'd protect his men from any further harm.
"Sir," Walters spoke in a clipped tone as he watch the holographic readout. "we're almost at the lobby."
"Okay. Rye," Rodriguez faced the former corporal, who was carrying a single duffel bag in his shoulder. "what do we have left?" The Japanese-born militiaman unslung his bag on the floor and quickly opened it, scampering its contents with his hands.
"Some thermal clips, a little medi-gel, and…hold on a sec," He dug his hand even deeper inside the bag, until he produced a familiar object a few seconds later. "looks like another one of those fancy grenades Perry used a while ago."
"Give it here." Suzumi handed the circular explosive device to him, and on it, he could only see three buttons lined vertically on the right of the thing, along with a small half-circle LCD screen on the left. The buttons themselves didn't have any labels or description near them, which made it all the more difficult in operating the damned thing. It wasn't anything like the old M99s he used back at the colony, and he just stared at it blankly. "How the hell do I arm this?"
"The topmost button starts the detonation sequence," Cortez spoke up, "the middle one sets it for cryo condensates and the bottommost one is for fragmentation."
"Since when do you know how to use this thing?"
"I used to be with the Alliance, remember? I trained with that stuff during basic training."
"Oh, right." Rodriguez answered sheepishly as he finally set the device to detonate as a normal frag grenade. "Okay, I got it."
"Two floors left, sir." Walters reminded them again, readying his weapon while he was at it.
"Rye, how many grenades do we have in there?"
"Just that one, sir."
"Shit," Rodriguez cursed in a soft voice as he pocketed the grenade in his jeans. "well, I'll just save this for later then. Distribute what's left of the clips and do a final weapons check."
"We're going to burn through these in a matter of minutes, sir." Suzumi commented as he started handing out the last of the squad's thermal clips and medi-gel capsules to everyone. "What's the plan?"
"Same as before, we take them out before they take us out."
A loud ding captured everyone's attention, with the holo-readout finally showing them that they arrived on the ground floor. Rodriguez breathed in and out once before he gripped his weapon tightly in his hands, with sweat starting to pour heavily on his forehead again.
"Make damn sure those shots count, boys."
The double doors slid open in front of them, and up ahead were five mercenaries just milling around in the center of the lobby, acting like nothing was happening and just talking casually without a care in the world. By the time those PMC lackeys looked in his direction, they were already goners given a one-way ticket straight to hell.
As one, the squad exited the elevator and opened fire. All five of the mercs were instantaneously cut down by slugs whose muzzle velocities exceeded five times the speed of sound. Blood was explosively flying everywhere as the rounds tore through the enemies' distinctive blue-and-white hardsuits like a hot knife through butter, with the bodies going down as if they were in slow-mo.
The double-set doors behind the torn-up suckers opened, and another set of hostiles entered the inn with guns blazing. A few thin support columns were nearby, three of these godawful rickety pillars just a few meters in front of them and horizontally spaced two meters apart. Without further thought, all of them took cover in it, even though it didn't really provide that much protection to begin with.
Rodriguez and Suzumi shared the rightmost buttress while the others took the middle and the left. The slugs kept their relentless assault on their commandeered columns, and the former colonel was practically back-to-back with his subordinate as both of them clustered around the only thing that was keeping them apart between them and the Almighty. He tried firing off a few shots, but the fire was just too heavy to aim accurately, and all of his bullets just hit nothing but thin air and cheap inn stuff. With no choice left, he grabbed the grenade he was planning on saving from his pocket, pressed the arming button, and threw it half-assed towards the direction in which he thought the enemy was positioned.
There was a slight pause in the attack as the mercs tried to get away from the grenade's blast. Two of them weren't that lucky as the device blew up, peppering the screaming unfortunate bastards with hot, explosive fragments. While the rest of the attackers were flushed out from their respective cover, him and the rest of his squad took the opportunity to fight back, downing another four with concentrated weapons fire. Their brief attempt at a counter-attack failed, with the remainder of the enemy team exiting the building trying to regroup. This was his chance.
"Move up!" Rodriguez ordered as he got out of that unstable pillar and pursued the rest of the enemy force, his squad faithfully following behind him as he reached the entrance, kicking open the shattered double glass doors that separated them from the streets of Omega.
His shields suddenly flared as the remaining mercs, who were just across the constricted road behind a nondescript skycar, opened fire with everything they had. The impacts were starting to hurt like a bitch, and Walters thankfully pulled him out of the line of fire just as his kinetic barriers winked out of existence, with the both of them going down to take cover at a somewhat reliable looking wall just beside the shot-up doors.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it, sir."
Beside them from just across the door, Suzumi and Johnson traded potshots with the enemy as they kept on blasting each other away with their corresponding weapons, whereas Cortez still dutifully looked after their critically wounded acquaintance with a M3 pistol in hand.
"—the hell?" The former corporal swore as he went back into cover, just sitting down on the ground with his back against the wall as he started pulling on his weapon's cocking handle. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!"
"What's wrong with it?" Rodriguez shouted from the other side.
"Shaver jam! A piece of the ammo block's stuck on the damned receiver!"
"Did you try pressing the clearance button near the pistol grip?" Walters suggested as he fired his rifle.
"What?" Suzumi cupped a hand in his ear.
"Clearance button." The XO yelled in the din of heavy combat, retracting his rifle from the metallic door frame and pointing to a small button near the grip on his N7 Valiant. "Did you press it?"
"No. Why?"
"Press it, and then pull on the cocking handle to clear the jam."
"Okay, thanks!"
This useless tango with the mercs was a battle for time which they couldn't afford to lose. Perry was dying, they were still inside the inn, and they had no means of transportation in which they could use to escape this obviously hostile area. They needed a shuttle, or a car; just something with four wheels or an engine that could—wait.
He looked outside and suddenly realized the answer was there all along. The skycar! They could use it to get out of here, and Cortez could easily—
—one of the side windows on the flying vehicle shatters from the former lieutenant's single shotgun blast.
"Johnson!" The former colonel screamed in horror at the damage. "What the hell are you doing, man!"
"What? I'm trying to kill them!"
"Don't hit the skycar!"
"What?"
"I said don't hit the car!"
"I seriously can't hear you, si—"
"Don't hit the fucking car!"
A single explosion goes off near the inn's entrance, completely blasting what was left off the metallic door frame into smithereens. Rodriguez shielded his eyes and face with his arms as bits and pieces of broken glass and metal flew everywhere, with some parts of said frame flying back a few meters towards the direction of the abandoned lobby.
"Christ!" Suzumi distanced himself from the doorway with a deep laceration on his cheek. "What was that?"
"A grenade." Walters answered as he peered on the edge of the entrance and fired off a volley with his rifle.
"What?"
"Never mind."
"These people don't mess around, don't they?" The shuttle pilot commented.
"We can't keep this up any longer," Rodriguez observed as he inserted his last clip into his rifle. "We're low on clips and reinforcements are bound to overrun us sooner or later."
"What do you suggest?" Johnson inquired.
"I'm out!" Walters stated as he withdrew back towards cover with his rifle hissing and clicking empty.
"Here!" Cortez fished a spare thermal clip out of his pocket and threw it in the air towards the former XO. "Make 'em count!"
"We take the fight to them. Rye and Walters, provide a base of fire on my signal! Johnson, you're with me. We clear that skycar of hostiles and secure it. Clear?"
"Clear, sir!" The three of them responded loud and clear.
"Ready…go!"
Suzumi and Walters both exited from their cover and opened up at the same time, downing a human merc and a turian with several slugs to the head and the chest as they provided covering fire, with the remaining three hostiles going down quickly back to shield themselves.
"Alright, Johnson! On me!"
Rodriguez and the former lieutenant ran from the side of the wall and headed towards the battered skycar, with a few precious moments left to spare before their attempt at suppressive fire would subside. A piece of debris from the inn, which he hadn't noticed lying down there on the road before, connected with his foot; clumsily making the former colonel trip as he instinctively let go of his weapon, trying to put his hands forward to soften the fall. Contrary to popular belief, it really didn't do anything but transfer the pain towards his hands and his wrists, which was a lot.
"Son of a—"
"Come on," Johnson helped him up one-handed and kept on his pace. "we gotta move."
He scooped up his fallen Mattock and proceeded to continue, even though his hands were throbbing from the pain. Behind the skycar, a single helmeted merc rose to fire his weapon. But a blast from the southerner's shotgun forcefully pushed the target backwards before he could pull the trigger; the hostile's blood spraying indiscriminately from the weapon's massive blast.
Rodriguez made a running jump on top of the futuristic flying vehicle, barely making it as his shoes almost slipped from the sleek surface. On the other side of the skycar were the last two mercs, still reeling from their comrade's loss with eyes wide-open and their mouths agape. When they finally saw the former colonel standing on top of their cover, they made one final attempt of defiance by half-heartedly raising their weapons.
A single press on the upgraded Mattock's hairline digital trigger let loose a thunderous fully-automatic burst, the rifle spraying out tungsten carbide rounds all around the doomed mercenaries. Their bodies were dancing unpredictably from the hypersonic impacts, and by the time the rifle was hissing steam and clicking empty, they were already dead before they hit the ground.
The short stubby barrel on the rifle was trailing thin smoke as Rodriguez finally put the weapon down, waving for the rest of his squad from the inn to come out. He ejected the spent clip on his weapon and slung it around his back with a strap, jumping down from the vehicle as Cortez quickly commandeered the driver's seat and the others started piling in.
"You know how to drive this thing?" Rodriguez asked as he neared the shuttle pilot, who was doing a systems check on the vehicle.
"I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that." Cortez replied as he finally got the skycar to start with a loud throttling noise. "Now get in."