Nine – Knock Knock

Raven swept the canyon with her sniper rifle. "We've got movement. The two Freelancers are heading for the north end."

"On their way out?" asked Marcus. He was done polishing his armor and put on his brown CQB helmet. It never hurt to look good when going into battle.

"Yes, sir."

Marcus patted her shoulder. "Good recon, my dear. Now join your brothers and sisters."

Raven hesitated before responding, "Er, yes, sir."

He watched her fall back to the nine other soldiers assembled on the hilltop. Deserters, ex-cons, and all-around scoundrels. All handpicked for this fine job in Blood Gulch. And who better to lead the slaughter than Marcus?

I'll show those pricks at Command what "reckless behavior" really looks like, he thought. His heart swelled with pride.

"Listen up," he said to his men. "Thanks to our intel, we know that the interference field is coming from Red Base. If we strike hard and fast, we'll be able to secure it before their reinforcements arrive from the other side of the canyon. I don't want to see any mercy or mistakes on this op. We take what we want and kill everyone in our path. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" his team responded.

Marcus sighed with satisfaction. He missed days like this one. A shame they had to end the war so soon.

"Lock and load. We move in two. We're done in twenty." He turned to Lance, who had put on his green-and-brown gear. "You can start jamming the radios once the Freelancers are gone."

"You got it, sir!"

Grif stared out at the motor pool below the base, waiting for his headache to finally clear up. He saw two beat-up Warthogs and a Mongoose they'd stolen at some point in their adventures. Probably after they'd ditched the Hornets they'd stolen from Sidewinder.

He still hated the thought of doing work, but for some reason, he had no problem as a driver. At least he got to sit down on the job and let the vehicle do all the work.

"Donut, leave me alone!" Simmons came running up from inside the base.

"Oh, come in, Simmons!" Donut came trailing after him like an eager puppy. "Just this once!"

"I said no!"

"What's going on?" asked Grif.

"Donut's trying to convince me to race him from one end of the canyon to the other."

"Hmm. That seems pretty tame for one of Donut's requests."

"And he says that the winner has to ride in the loser's lap on the way back."

"Ah, there it is." Grif glanced at Donut. "Dude, that's just not happening."

"Aw, don't be a spoilsport, Grif! What else are we gonna do with those awesome vehicles?"

"I dunno. Let them sit and take a five-hour siesta?"

Something hissed in the air behind him. When Grif turned, he saw a pair of plasma grenades land in the middle of the motor pool. He jumped back when the thing exploded, sending the Warthogs flying and obliterating the Mongoose completely. Donut screamed and ducked behind Simmons for cover.

"Or," Grif added, "we could just watch them explode. And if Sarge asks, this is your fault, Donut."

Right on cue, Sarge came running up to the top of the base with his shotgun drawn. "Great Stonewall's ghost! We're under attack! Battle stations, men!"

"Wait, we have stations?" asked Grif.

"Just try not to get killed, dumbass," Simmons replied. He was already going for the rocket launcher on the other side of the base. "Ready, sir!"

"I'll get the Grif Shot!" Grif headed downstairs. "And I get first dibs on post-battle snacks!"

Tucker lowered his sniper rifle. "Hey, Wash? I think you'd better check this out."

"Is it Caboose-related?"

"Definitely not."

"Good." Wash took the rifle and zoomed out across the canyon. "I've had enough of those for one morning."

When he saw the fire in front of Red Base and the soldiers in multicolored armor swarming it, his voice caught in his throat. The CQB helmets as military surplus. They reminded him of the ODST gear that the Insurrection soldiers wore back in the day.

Oh, how history repeats itself, he thought grimly and handed the rifle back to Tucker.

"Dammit. Go and find Doc. Tell him to be ready for incoming wounded, and then get Caboose. We need to be ready to assist the Reds."

"Ok, I'm on it!" The aqua-armored soldier went below, already grabbing and arming his sword.

Wash activated his radio and set it for Carolina's frequency. "Carolina, come in. This is Wash."

Nothing but static. He switched to another frequency. "Cal, do you read me? This is—"

Still static. Reception in Blood Gulch was normally fine. And since the other ex-Freelancers hadn't been gone too long, that left only one other explanation.

They were being jammed. This was a planned assault.

Wash primed his battle rifle and went below to join the others.