The lights over the warehouse cast an orange glow in the night as trucks headed out for their runs to the other towns to deliver goods.
This hub was located on the north side of Petalburg, close to two highways that branched east and north towards the other towns. While it was far from the dockyards, this truckyard was instrumental in importation and exportation of goods to and from the metro.
However, heading a bit further north up an old drive was a smaller abandoned warehouse that was no longer in use by the hub. Neglected, it began to deteriorate quickly and its location off the beaten path quickly phased it out of the attention of most people.
Now it sat with the highway as a backdrop, seemingly empty.
That wasn't the case.
"We got at least a dozen heat signatures congregated around the warehouse's center." Damien returned to their armored vehicle that was parked a ways in the brush. They had taken the approach through the dense growth and set up observations.
At daytime, the warehouse seemed just like any other abandoned place, however when the sun went down, a new flurry of activity occurred where prying eyes were unwelcome.
A Petalburg police officer had come across the place when realizing that it was being used as a way station for the Cacturne Syndicate's drug trafficking. From the warehouse, illegal narcotics went to lower down dealers all across Petalburg.
When it came to drug use, Hoenn was fairly strict, harshly responding to violators, but the decline of effectiveness in both law enforcement and militaristic options have allowed contraband to start get out of control.
This was one of the reasons the Jets were sworn in as a special task force with both Federation and Hoenn operatives in the new era to ensure that both nations made a statement; drugs used illegally will not be tolerated.
"Still got eyes on the guard?"
"He's over at the northwest corner taking a piss," Jewell crisply replied.
"Can't believe that the magazine wants us on the cover." Damien added. Earlier that day, due to the Jets' successes against the Syndicate, Hoenn's top magazine had designated them to be on the cover for the next edition of their triannual release. The photo shoot was supposed to be tomorrow after their operation.
Ash was far from pleased. While he did appreciate that the magazine was giving them publicity, it was in the wrong way. They were going to be portrayed as celebrities, people who were heroes, but at the same time everyone else would look at them like movie stars.
None of them were happy about it either, but it was inevitable. They were just a group of men and a woman who were responsible for the protection of Hoenn citizens both domestic and abroad. There was nothing to glamourize, in fact; it was something the public should never put in a spotlight.
The people of Hoenn had never been exposed to the reality war on a front doorstep. Even Ash's fellow operatives agreed that of all generations, they believed that armed conflict was something of fantasy, occurring in faraway lands, never to be brought to the island nation's shores. Unfortunately for them, for such a motif to disappear, a shooting disputation would have to occur.
All five of them were clad in their sleek dark undersuits with a black bullet proof harness over their upper bodies. Ash wore his normal cargo jeans with extra pockets to fit additional gear. Atop their heads was an elastic band that encumbered their crown and held a pair of optics suited for night electronic assistance. They carried their new X95 carbines and P226 sidearms. All of them had Advanced Combat Optical Gunsight optic on the top rail and a side mounted laser sight that produced a visible line to the others to indicate where the weapon was being aimed.
"Let's move." Ash tapped Brendan and Damien as they slowly made their way to the edge of the treeline. By now the guard had finished his leak and began to head back inside. They bided their time and waited until the door was shut.
"Zack, how are we on the power?"
"Working on it," Over to the warehouse's back side, Zack Arron was shaping a tiny explosive to cut through and disrupt the power supply running inside the warehouse.
"Head to the closest door and be ready to breach on my mark when you're finished."
"I'm on it."
Moving to the side entrance, Ash eased the door open covered by Damien and peered inside.
Sure enough there were about a dozen armed hostiles inside, some patrolling, others talking congregated around a lit table in the center. He couldn't see what was on it, but it hardly mattered.
Turning to his two compatriots, his free left hand erupted into a flurry of signals. To the untrained eye, it seemed as if he was doing sign language at a rapid pace, but both men knew that he was saying roughly. Ten men, two on the left. Three center, five unknown. We will flush the remainder out towards the front of the building.
"In position." Zack confirmed a moment later. He would enter the fray a moment after the three of them would make their presence known.
"Let's turn out the lights."
Over on his side, Arron thumbed a detonator and clicked to send the signal.
Inside the building, the explosion that was precisely set to destroy the power to the building was barely heard, but the moment the electricity had been severed, the lights snapped off.
"What the hell?" One man automatically voiced what everyone was inquiring.
Back outside, Ash tapped Damien and Brendan on their shoulders before throwing open the doors. Their night vision goggles were already on and through them, they saw the lasers emitting from their weapons, crisscrossing through the darkness.
The five men that they saw were still in the midst of reacting when Ash and Brendan swept left, aiming precisely at them and firing short bursts. Their gunshots were muffled by suppressors.
To their left on the opposite side, Zack made his entrance. "Five tangos at the far corner."
He fired a few shots, "One down!"
More gunshots erupted, since the Syndicate wasn't using muzzle suppressors or anything to hide the flash, the temporary burst of light had nearly overwhelmed the Jets. As bullets whizzed overhead, they all ducked behind cover.
By the way they were firing; the Syndicate didn't have any means of night vision and were using the flash of the muzzle to locate where their attackers were.
"Smoke now!" Ash commanded.
"Smoke out!" The other three had primed cylindrical canisters and tossed them in their direction. Within seconds, a screen of green colored smoke through their lenses began to billow.
"Gah, smoke!" One of them cried out while firing blindly. This time, the flashes were not as assaulting on their instruments as previous, "We gotta get out of here!"
Damien and Zack raised their weapons and fired into the smoke as the bad guys retreated. They broke cover and got to work, examining the contraband on the tables that the men were guarding.
"Jewell, they're heading your way."
"On it."
As Ash and Brendan pursued them to the entrance where the lights from outside shone on them. Now visible, the men began shooting in their direction. The bullets punched straight through the thin metal. All four of them automatically ducked.
The five men had taken cover behind a pair of vans in front of the warehouse when one of them suddenly stiffened and fell flat against the side with smoke trailing from a neat bullet hole in his back.
The men realized that they had been funneled towards that area so that the sniper would take them as easy targets.
Ash was beginning to move towards them with his sights aimed at the corner. "Nowhere to run! Drop your weapons!"
Three of them saw the futility of the situation and dropped their weapons. The fourth one sensed the approach of Brendan on the van's right side and aimed his weapon at the figure coming around the corner.
Ash saw him and let out a burst from his X95 that went not six inches away from the gunman, "Don't try it."
"Okay okay." He laid down his rifle and raised his hands in the air.
Five minutes later with armed police readying the captured for transport on the Jet's orders, Ash and Brendan headed to join everyone else around the center table. The warehouse was experiencing more activity tonight than it was for whatever years it was abandoned and crumbling.
"Shit," Ash nearly threw down his rifle in frustration. Tonight he was supposed to take May to the gym for him to teach her self-defense. He had completely forgotten and had never told her that he was partaking in an operation against the Syndicate this late. He had originally thought that it was going to be a midday thing, but instead the top brass had pushed it past midnight to lessen attention and make the strike at the time when the human brain was least active, close to 2 in the morning.
"Intel has been verified," Brendan brought him out of his thoughts, "We're going to be hot on the trail of one of Harley's lieutenants."
When Ash didn't respond, Decker took a closer look. He was just standing there with a blank expression on his face. "You okay man?"
"Yeah," He looked back, "I'll be fine. C'mon, let's get this done so I can go to sleep."
The floor of the gym was empty save for the two of them. Ash had this time, made a promise the day afterwards and stayed true to his word, picking her up after class and driving over.
For forty minutes, May and Ash worked out on the various machines on the place's upper floor before they went down to the mats close to the basketball court and rock wall.
May wore her tank top like Dawn had suggested and white basketball shorts. The former clung close to her slim figure and she was trying not to blush when Ash's gaze on her was a bit longer than normal.
At the same time, she couldn't tear her eyes off him. He wore a tank top too, but instead it was an olive green drab with the face of a Houndoom on the front. Just below it was the insignia of the Federation Commandos. The clothing fit him perfectly, but did nothing to hide the sculpted chest underneath.
May was busy perfecting her strikes on a nearby punching bag while Ash took a quick restroom break. He came back to see her landing several punches on the dummy bust of a man.
"Hey," She halted upon hearing his greeting and return, "I was watching you." He moved beside her, "Your hits are good and quick, and you've got good technique."
"Thanks," May smiled at his praise.
"But you're lacking strength."
"What?"
"You're not putting any power behind those punches. Sure, you're hitting right on the mark, but if you don't use your strength, you're just wasting energy. Here," He moved behind her and took her smaller arm in his hand, "When you're striking your target, move into the hit, put more of your weight behind you, lean into it so that you'll have additional power behind it." He tapped the knuckles on her index and middle fingers, "These knuckles are what you should be hitting with. You know what the most sensitive part is on the human face?"
"The eyes?" May asked.
"Nope." He tapped the bridge, "It's the nose, although in a life or death situation, you go for anything. Nose, eyes, mouth…stomach, whatever you can do to stun, disorient them."
Ash gestured to the dummy, "Show me."
May tightened her fist and got into the stance he had showed her earlier. This time, she did as he instructed and upon impact, the dummy was pushed significantly enough to tip over and settle back upright with the sand inside the base heard shifting about.
"Well that's a start." He chuckled before reaching inside his duffel bag and pulling out a pair of boxing gloves. "Put these on."
She felt the loops where her fingers were set and eased them onto her hands. The frame caused them to partially form them into fists.
Ash held up a black pad the resembled a big shield and positioned one foot in front of the other in sort of a defensive stance. "Alright, let's begin."
For ninety minutes, the two of them worked up a sweat as Ash taught her seven different types each of hand strikes, kicks and blocks. Sometimes Ash had May hold the pad as he performed combinations of all three. Even though he was not using his full strength, his speed was astounding.
Much of the Commandos' hand to hand combat training stemmed from the native fighting styles of Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan, with kicks and punches respectively. Even though each had seven basics, there were many more variations and the exercises done while they were in training were brutal with sparring sessions twice as much. Ash has told her a story in his class on how the primary instructor, a ninjalike man named Koga had laid out sort of a syllabus on their training regimen. One rather cocky trainee who had a background in martial arts prior to coming into the military was bragging on the two black belts he had earned in the course of a year. Koga, eager to assess a so called "star pupil" asked for a brief sparring to demonstrate how far ahead he was of everyone else. The trainee found the older man to be decades younger in physical terms, knocking him around almost in a toying manner while evading every attempt to retaliate.
Koga made the kid look as if he was moving in slow motion. The hand to hand courses was introduced a couple weeks into the Commando regimen and the cocky guy lasted one more week before ringing the bell; a traditional signal that someone voluntarily withdrew from the program.
"There goes another one," Gary would say while they were lying in the barracks. During their four month training regimen, more than a dozen had dropped out and these men had at least two years of service within other units in the Federation.
"Really?" May was surprised, but not at the same time, "Of your class, only eight of you passed and were assigned?"
Ash nodded, "You know Commando training is considered one of the most difficult units to get in? It's not just a physical test of how strong you are, it also puts a lot of strain mentally and emotionally. There are people who are able to balance all three and keep them in check and those are the ones who make the cut."
"Did you get cut?" May asked, even though the answer was as clear as day.
"First time Gary and I applied, we were deemed too inexperienced, so we had undergone an additional tour abroad and then managed to get in. You know the rest of the story."
"I'd love to hear about more of it."
"I'd be happy to tell you," Ash stripped off the pad and his gloves, "C'mon, I'm going to shower. Want to head back to your place?"
"Sure."
He accepted the gloves from her and slipped them inside the duffel bag, "Meet you in the front."
So more on Ash's grueling tests to become a Commando as well as him kicking some bad guy ass and teaching May how to defend herself. This was a good chapter.
Other than getting excited about E3, watching the MLB all-star game, working and waiting for games to be released (NFL season + Halo5) I'll be traveling the next couple of days, but I am bringing my computer with me and will have spare time to write. Expect the next chapter early to mid next week.
Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.