(A/N) Hey guys, sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up. Internet was gone all day yesterday, for some reason or another, but it's up now, so apologies about the wait. I hope you enjoy this one, but then again, of course I do! Written by the great TunelessLyric, here's the Freelancer's attempt to draw out Harper's forces, and the war that ensues on the streets of Athos.

Just letting you all know that Grifball applications end Friday. Not going to bore you any more with details on that, you know the situation.

So without further ado, here you go! Enjoy!


Chapter Eighty-Two – Taking Back the City

Agent Michigan

Written by TunelessLyric


"First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win." – Mahatma Gandhi


They had dug in hard already. It didn't really matter if they had, but it made fighting easier when there was a plan in place. Mich couldn't find it within herself to care, she was just too entrenched in the massive amounts of mayhem planned. The strategist in her was beyond pleased to be in the field on her terms – well, her's and her roommate's. Speaking of the blue-green devil, Carolina was overseeing the planting of explosives.

"Are we going to let them talk us to death?" asked Cal. He was getting antsy. Apparently, waiting wasn't in his briefing prior to being dropped off in the formerly-thriving metropolis of Athos on the quaint little planet of Aurora. Why was it always the good colonies that became battleground states?

Mich didn't look up from carefully aligning 7.62mm rounds in her ammo belt. It was time-consuming work, but a jam could be the difference between a friendly caught in heavy fire or getting to an advantageous spot. She sighed. "Florida, you want to take this one?"

"Cal, as you are already well aware, we are planting these explosives which are going to bring down that building –" the blue ODST-styled agent gestured to an eight storey office complex a block away – "which will flush out the Innies for us to draw farther out of the middle of this pickle."

"I know, I know," muttered Cal, looking bored despite his understanding.

"Then why are you even asking?" demanded Carolina sharply. "Get back to work!"

Cal bent his head and resumed laying down Det. Cord. "It's what happens after we flush the toilet that worries me more."

"Are you saying we won't be able to take 'em?" York asked, sighing.

Everyone stopped what they were doing. Mich looked up from her ammo. Maine even glanced backward from where he and several UNSC Marines were keeping watch over the Innies.

"I never said that," Cal protested, hands up in an appeasing gesture. "We have our goodies, Maine'll probably wreck anything that comes close to us, Florida'll blow them up faster than you can think, Mich has her gun, Carolina's angry we've been here so long, you're ready to roll, York. I'm just saying, we don't really have a plan beyond engage."

"Well, if we didn't have at least a plan, you think we'd be doing this and not working on our ass-kicking strategy?" York asked. "Keep your helmet on."

Mich straightened and stretched her back. She was a bit stiff from being hunched over for so long. "As far as I figure, I'm here to play Suppressor, as per usual. Not complaining there," she added, spreading her hands peacefully. "After that, you guys do what you want."

She hefted her M247 machine gun and joined Maine at the window. "Anything?"

He gave a noncommittal shrug, unsurprisingly remaining silent.

"Well then, good thing we're about to blow this pop stand."

One of the Marines flashed her a sidelong glance. "I'm sure you guys are ready, but we're not so clear on the details of this op."

Mich let herself fall into battle-mode, glad to have a little reminder of the good old days. Marines sure could bring back the memory of that scrap on – she shook her head. Not the time. "Like I said, I've got my baby to introduce a few faces to," she patted the butt of her gun affectionately. "Your fire team will follow Carolina's lead. In short words, you hold the thing that makes the bullets come out as long as you can."

The Marine gawped at her. "What?"

"Shoot and run, buddy." Mich refused to sigh at his cluelessness. "And wake up."

She clapped him hard on the back and returned to the group of Freelancers clustered to the explosives. She found herself wondering when she had become so chatty.

"Done," announced Florida, a smile in his voice. "Time to skedaddle."

"You've got the detonator ready?" asked Carolina.

"Yes ma'am," the older agent replied, chirpily.

"And you're sure they'll trip the first blast?" she asked, sounding tired and irritated, but her curiosity indicated that her tactical mind was still working at full speed.

"Yes ma'am," he repeated, nodding furiously.

Carolina continued to pester Florida until she was satisfied they were indeed finished. "Let's move out, agents."

Mich fell in beside Cal as the blue-green soldier lead the way upstairs to their nosebleed seats. He was whistling, the little blowout earlier already dead in the past. "I don't like being this far up," she admitted to him quietly.

"Why? Considering the fact that the fireworks are down below, I would have thought you would prefer this place," he replied in surprise.

"They could easily have snipers to take out anything from the windows," she said.

He snorted. "I'm sure Carolina accounted for that possibility."

"Easy for her, she can just go camo and not have to worry," Mich reminded him.

"Oh? And the hologram means nothing…?"

"You're right. I'm over-thinking, that's all." She rubbed the top of her helmet sheepishly.

They reached the next floor and spread out at their own windows. Mich found herself peering out of a tiny cubicle and into the street below. She scanned for any activity, seeing only old trash lifted half-heartedly by a dry breeze.

"Florida, detonate the office building," ordered Carolina.

"Detonating," he affirmed.

Mich glanced up at the resounding rumble a block away. The complex shuddered before collapsing in a plume of smoke and debris. Bits of glass and polycrete blew out from the blast in every direction. With a long groan of complaint, the building leaned into the street and gave out. Mich turned away for a moment in case anything was rocketing in her direction. When she resumed her lookout, the office was flopped across the thoroughfare. A swarm of dark figures spread out from the neighbouring condos like an anthill sprayed by insecticide.

"Visual on targets," she reported.

"Track and, if they get closer, take some out," ordered Carolina.

Mich gave her window a stiff jab from an elbow and unslung her assault rifle. "Here they come. Brace, guys."

Indeed, the Insurrectionists were working their way down the road separating them from the concealed Freelancer agents and Marines. Mich watched them leapfrog down the street, clearing corners and sending a flurry of hand signals each time. Not that it would help them any when the bullets began to fly. She got a bead on the one leading the charge, finger resting on the outer edge of the trigger guard but ready to move.

"Closing fast," reported York from Mich's right.

"Let them have it, then," said Carolina. "What are you waiting for, a personal invite?"

Mich and the tan agent shared a shrug. She slid her finger onto the trigger and squeezed. With a sharp bark the rifle in her hands let bullets fly towards the leader's chest. He survived the initial burst and had the chance to look around for his tormentor before Mich finished him.

Then the Innies fell into firefight positions. They brought scavenged guns of all makes and models to bear in every direction, uncertain where their attackers where hidden in the city.

Florida let off a shot with a grenade launcher at the visible set of Innies. They scrambled away, but not quite swiftly enough. They were blown sky high before Mich had the chance to blink.

"Get downstairs, Michigan," barked Carolina.

"You've got it," she acknowledged.

"Let them come to you, Mich," she added. "But don't make it obvious."

Mich ran for the stairwell, rolling her eyes. She swung herself over the banister, trusting her suit to absorb the impact from the ten-foot drop without a turned hair. She burst through the door already switching off her rifle to the M247. Skirting the Det. Cord, she found a cosy nook to butt up against. She scanned the street before her for movement, the new perspective throwing her for a second.

In the gathering gloom of evening, the muzzle flashes stood out after she began looking out for them. Nothing to shoot at yet, but she could be patient.

"I'm just not sure she's the best agent to lure them in with," murmured Cal, accidentally speaking into his comm mike.

"She can still hear you," Mich hissed indignantly back.

There was a click and he was gone. She quickly smothered the flicker of disappointment. There was no time for emotional behaviour right now.

A barrel of a gun peeked around the corner of the restaurant on the far side of the street. Mich flicked off the safety on her machine gun, chinning a control in her helmet at the same time. An uplink to her hologram ability opened in front of her, off to one side. She activated it. There was a tingling sensation as the module flicked on. A hint of lavender made Mich turn her head. Next to her stood a perfect replica of the agent.

The hologram walked out into the street, hands held up in surrender. An Innie popped her head up cautiously, outdated battle rifle aimed at the image. Mich grinned at the ease this plan was working out with. She switched over to the Public Address system built into her helmet, making sure to project it all the way across the road.

"Come out, I'll go quietly," she mumbled at the Innies. "M-my team was killed in the crossfire between the UNSC and your guys when we landed."

The shortest Innie turned his head halfway to the squad leader, clearly asking for her opinion. After a tense moment where Mich held her breath, the Innies slowly left cover. They inched cautiously to where the hologram was standing stock-still on the street.

"Sync?" Carolina's voice echoed over the radio.

Mich adjusted her grip on her M247. "Please, help me," she whimpered for good measure before turning the PA off.

"Sync." The entire team spoke with one voice.

The air was filled with the sound of breaking glass. One Insurrectionist let out a wail. Mich felt her grin widen. She had to admit, this was one of Carolina's most cliché moments. Still, she made sure to record the manoeuvre for Cal. Mich let her hologram's gaze flick upward to catch the stunt on the integrated HUD's camera. From the small window in her visor, she watched the scene unfold while keeping a wary eye on the Innies.

The still evening air was punctured by the second floor windows blowing out. Falling glass caught the dim light from the setting sun, creating a corona of fire. Wreathed in the dying light were York, Carolina, Cal, Maine and Florida as they leaped from their respective windows. Time seemed to slow down as a horrendous panic closed its fist over the Innies. They watched with a clinical fascination, open-mouthed, as the Freelancers dropped into their midst. The five agents drove half the squad to the ground as they fell. Mich heard one calling for backup through the Insurrection comm frequency.

There was a flurry of movement in the knot of people on the street. As suddenly as it started, the close quarters combat burned itself out. Just a quick flash of armoured fists and a snap of bone and a shriek before it was done.

"Cal, I didn't know you could make a sound like that," Mich teased, trotting out of her hiding spot. Her hologram flickered off.

The white and red agent hissed while he flapped his right hand. "I had no idea this bastard was carrying bricks around under his vest," he growled darkly, eyeing the offending Innie with venom. "And I will have you know my mother trained me at an early age. I have very good vocal range."

"Let's get these cleared up before our next contacts arrive," said Carolina, business came first as always.

Mich helped drag the bodies into the back alley and got hunkered down. She found herself cosying up in a storefront display of a castle next to Florida. He seemed to be humming lightly to himself.

"Contacts on the motion tracker," announced York. He sounded excited.

Sure enough, little red dots swarmed Mich's motion tracker. She tapped the trigger guard on her gun a handful of times before she could stop herself.

Carolina and Maine, down the street in the direction of the incoming Innies, brought up their weapons. With a jolt, Mich watched as the team leader shimmered into near-invisibility as her camouflage ability switched on. Maine kept a careful watch on the street for the next group.

Nearly ten minutes later, signs of an approach made the six team members perk up. A muzzle peeked around the corner of the beaten up office complex. The moment a head crept into view, Carolina popped a cap from her magnum into it.

As simple as that, the street exploded into a firefight. Mich held still, allowing Carolina, Maine, York and Cal jump in. She and Florida were too far to do real damage. Yet.

Before long, enemy fire was straying too close to the makeshift bunker concealing Carolina and Maine. She dropped back and scooted into the doorway next to York. Cal sidled deeper into the entranceway to give her enough room. Maine followed but veered to the storefront with Florida and Mich. The lavender Freelancer shoved over so he could squish in with them.

In confusion, the Innes pressed forward. They knew something was up. This wasn't supposed to be so easy. However, they were opportunistic by nature and would never look a gift horse in the mouth. They advanced up the straightaway in pairs, squinting in the fast-fading light.

"Mich, we're going to retreat back to the second road, cover us," ordered Carolina.

Mich stood and pressed her back against the storefront, using a sidewalk display to hid behind. She aimed through the hangers of clothing – a 50% discount, she noticed dryly – and sprayed the Innies with fire.

By now, night had well and truly set in. Streetlights flickered on above the Freelancers' heads, bathing pockets of the street in pools of watery light. Mich lifted her gun to avoid hitting Cal as he ducked under her suppressive fire. All around her, agents were rushing to fall back to their Beta point. There was a thunk and an Insurrectionist dropped dead of lead poisoning.

A loud crack sounded very close to Mich's ear. She dropped to the ground instinctively, twisting to see what it was. A huge chunk of wall had been ripped away by a heavy round. "Falling back," she warned her teammates.

"Acknowledged," said Carolina.

With streams of bullets all around, Mich belly crawled away from the display until she was behind something more substantial. Then she hopped to her feet and ran for the dark building the others were waiting in.

"Florida, better get rid of them," suggested York.

While the demo agent found the right detonator, Cal clapped Mich on the back. "I thought that sniper was going to take your head off."

"It'll take more than one bad sniper to silence Agent Michigan," York proclaimed.

Carolina turned to York. Mich could sense the withering glare despite the reflective faceplate and the full-dark of the Aurora night.

With a triumphant noise, Florida located the detonator. He flicked the safety cap off and pressed the button without ceremony. The ground rumbled like a beast and the two-floored shop the agents had used in the last wave literally exploded. Shards of polycrete flew in every direction, impaling several Innies to walls on the far side of the road. A section of street was torn away as the Det. Cord caught the blast and amplified it.

When the smoke finally cleared, there was hardly anything larger than a couple stray limbs left. Mich went to check the destruction. And stopped shockingly short of her goal.

"Cal, let go," she said firmly.

The white and red agent's arms were holding her against him tightly. Half a heartbeat later, he jerked away from her as though her armour had delivered a shock to him. Cal stepped away awkwardly, hand rubbing his neck.

Heat was stretching long lines up Mich's neck and into her cheeks. Embarrassment flooded through her. She hurried over to the mess left behind by Florida's explosives. She picked through the devastation, coming up with only wildly outdated weapons and dusty ammunition.

The other Freelancers joined her among the broken fingers of the office complex.

"Time to go, Command wants us to move out to Beta point immediately," explained Carolina. "Hopefully Harper will be forced to send out more men, now that we've just totalled a city block."

As the team began to jog in the right direction, Mich slid back and fell into step next to Cal.

"Sorry about that," he offered.

She patted his shoulder. "I know you meant well." Leaving the whole occurrence at that, Mich sped up until she was running beside Maine. She glanced up at the sky and marveled at the unfamiliar dots of ice in the sky. The constellations were beautiful on the clear night. Mich clenched her jaw. Too bad they were so indifferent to the Insurrection below.