(A/N) Hey guys, sorry for the slightly late chapter, sometimes real life just gets in the way of steady updating times, the pesky thing. Anyway, this is the longest chapter we have put up yet, and probably will be the longest ever, because I considered cutting it down into two but it seemed to flow best as one solid piece. Written by the always incredible OhSoDeadly, welcome, to total war. Florida style!
Also, to those reading and are not aware, we are still looking for people interested in applying to write for Carolina in our sequel. Please PM me for more details!
Enjoy!
Chapter Ninety-Two – Here Comes the Cavalry
Agent Florida
Written by OhSoDeadly
"But why would you return to face again the fierce banth, or whatever other form of destruction they have loosed within that awful trap?"
"Because my friend fights there alone."– John Carter, God of Mars
(N.B. The song that Maine is listening to is "The Crush" by Miracle of Sound. It's really freakin' awesome, check it out!)
Gosh darn it all to bleedin' heck, where the dickens is my helmet?
York stood by the door, fists clenched and foot tapping a nervous beat on the metal tiles of the dormitory. "Florida, we gotta go! Come on, think! Where did you last have it?" The usually laid-back young man was rarin' to go, and F.I.L.S.S' message had come nearly fifteen minutes ago. Time was slippin' away from them.
Frantically, Florida searched back through his memory. Well, first they'd had Carolina's little birthday hoe-down, then she and Penn had had another dust-up, which had ended with poor ol' Penn being hung out to dry yet again. Then he'd not been doing much, just lazin' around the ship while Virginia and her merry band of misfits headed groundside on Byzantium to see if they couldn't root out any Innies hidin' there. And then…
…well, all the heck that was breaking loose. He shook his head desperately. "I can't remember, dang it all! I ain't been wearing my armour lately! We all needed a break, York-"
"Save it, "York snapped, uncharacteristically terse. He strode back into the room, and started to fling aside belongings, the pillows, everything. Florida just stood back, feeling terribly useless. Mentally he cursed himself. He was a Freelancer!He was meant to have everything in order! Everything under control!
At that, he cast a nervous glance at the very bottom drawer of his beside locker. He was glad it was too small to fit anything bigger than a brick, because if it wasn't, York might've taken a gander in there. And seen the little blue-and-black pills that Killian had issued him, a sneaky under-the-table prescription that neither of them had run by the Counselor…
"Listen, Killian, I need your help with a little somethin'."
"Can't it wait? I'm busy."
"Please? It'll only take a minute or two."
"Dude, seriously. There are 1440 minutes in a day. An Earth day, that is. And seeing as we don't go by the Earth clock on this ship, hell, there are probably even less. Soon there's going to be this real-news story about a guy who can direct armies of ants against each other using a spray of some kind. News stories typically run anywhere between three and five minutes. And you want to interrupt me for one of them?"
"….well, yeah. I mean, I'm sorry to be visiting now but-"
"Oh for the love of…fine. What the fuck do you want?"
"I need something to help me sleep."
"What, you been having nightmares or something?"
"You could say that."
He still wasn't sure exactly what was in the pills, or what their names were-some medical gobbledegook. But Killian had emphasised their potency, and not to take more than one a week. So he hadn't.
And yet…sometimes he felt hazy. Calm, but not a good kind of calm. Like if the entire ship was crashing into a planet, he'd just be watching it all happen with a dozy smile and a giggle, never mind that his comrades and buddies were burning and screaming and running around on fire. He shivered at that gruesome image. What dark thoughts he'd been having!
Florida honestly thought about the man he'd been when he arrived at the Project, so excited and eager, and found it quite hard-heck, impossible-to reconcile that same man with the one he was now. Before, he'd jumped up out of his bunk with a twinkle in the eye and a cheery greeting on his lips. Now, it was a quiet dragging himself out to face the day, still worn out and exhausted from the previous day's rigours. It just wasn't the same since Al had been locked up under the director's orders. The bunk-room felt…empty. The whole darned ship did. Bereft of the energy they'd all had, way back when-
"Found it!" York yanked the ODST-issue helmet from beneath-Al's pillow?-and tossed it to him before racing out the door and down the corridor. Butch was right behind him, breath coming hard and steady. The pair of agents bundled into the elevator and the door slid shut. Florida jammed it over his head, and the neck seal clicked reassuringly. His HUD came to life. Ammo count, bio-monitors, radar, team status indicators-it was all green. Dandy.
"Hangar bay F.I.L.S.S.!" York commanded, and they began to descend. It clunked a few times along the way, and Florida tapped his foot in an impatient beat. That nasty surprise attack by those Covenant ruffians had done a number on poor old Mother of Invention!At least F.I.L.S.S. was still shipshape….
His fellow agent was already inspecting his shotgun, making sure there were no defects or problems. "Where's the rest of the team?"
"Waiting on you, Agent York. Agent Carolina is quite impatient. She does not want to wait much longer."
"If only that were true, "York muttered disconsolately, staring at the floor. Florida frowned underneath his helmet. Now what did he mean by that? The boy sure did seem less than his chipper self, even without all the kerfuffle the team had gone through in the last little while.
But before he could ask what he meant by that, and if there was anything he could do to help, the doors slid open and they both exited into the hangar bay. Conveniently, the entire area had been cleared for their departure. One fast attack Pelican, gleaming and armed to the teeth, was waiting, ramp deployed and jets rumbling. The familiar white-clad shape of Four-Seven-Niner was standing near the cockpit windows, yelling at one of her underlings about proper inventory protocols. The fella looked exhausted, slumped over a crate twice his size. Florida shook his head-he had bigger fish to fry than a layabout crewmember.
The other three members of their team were crowded at the ramp's base, and upon seeing them, launched into a cacophony of angry protest. "Where the hell have you been?" Carolina snarled, depolarising her helmet and glaring at them. "We're already overdue for insertion! Virginia's team is under fire even as we speak!" Behind her, Maine's posture hinted at a similar rage, but Penn looked far more relaxed, smug even. He didn't even have his helmet on.
Of course, Florida knew why he seemed so at ease. As number two on the leaderboard, he'd be watchin' Carolina's position as big cheese like a hawk. So any muddles and mess-ups on this mission would be entirely down to her. And a bad start like this wouldn't be helpin' matters. Florida felt a pang of guilt. He'd never meant to cause anyone any trouble. So he stepped forward and removed his helmet.
Carolina's murderous gaze switched to him, and he spoke quickly. "Ma'am, it was my fault, nothin' to do with York. I…eh…misplaced my helmet. Took some searchin' in order to find it. But here we are now!" He nodded fervently. "What say we get this show on the road?"
Maine grunted venomously. "Clean slate's that easy, you think?" His voice sounded like teeth gnashing a mouthful of gravel. "Call yourself an agent-"
"That's enough!" Carolina flung Maine a warning look, and said harshly, "You're not exactly in the best place to comment, Maine, so shut your trap. York, you're in the fourth position on the board, so act like it, damn it. And you-" She jabbed an aqua-sheathed finger at Florida. "I don't have time for it now, but when we get back, I'll be reporting you to the Director for conduct unbecoming an agent. Now all of you, get on board!"
Sullenly, Maine turned and stomped up the ramp, followed closely by Penn, a smirk plastered on his face. York gave Florida a nod of gratitude, then jogged after them. Carolina and Florida were the last ones. All the agents found their seats and locked their harnesses in. Four-Seven-Niner finished chewing out her minion and strode in, muttering about the idiots on the ship. When she got to the cockpit entrance, she stopped, turned and looked at them. "Oh don't give me that look. I can feel your look." She took her seat up front, while Carolina and York exchanged bemused looks.
Now what on God's green Earth was that all about?He frowned, and five seconds later he got it. Oh. She means us.Well, that was uncalled for!
Four-Seven-Niner's voice came over the COM. "Command, this is Pelican Four-Seven-Niner, requesting permission to exit. Transmitting authorisation codes now."
Another voice, muffled, spoke at length, and their pilot sighed. "Yeah, well, that's terrific, good for you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go fly into a dangerous battlefield and drop off some project-sanctioned psychopaths. Toodle-oo." They lifted off into the air and blasted out of the hangar, into space.
In the relatively silent hangar bay, Penn spoke up. "Why does she still work here?" he asked of no-one in particular, a tart edge to his voice.
York laughed, but it was a shaky sound. "Because of the camaraderie and friendship she inspires? Clearly." He leaned over and slapped a hand on Maine's knee. "Same reason we got you, big guy." The gold-bubble helmet swung to face him and a violent hiss came out. Florida winced. Maine had proven himself no savage-he was human enough-but sometimes he really didseem like an animal. His big ol' feud with Penn wasn't helping his temper.
Carolina must've sensed the sudden tension, because she launched into their mission specs. "OK team, listen up. You already know the particulars of the mission. Virginia and the others went down to investigate a possible lead on the Insurrectionist presence, and it turned out to be a trap. They're camped out in an abandoned temple in a swamp, and from what Virginia was able to tell us before the Innies jammed their transmissions, it isn't good. We know for sure that Minnesota's been wounded and the Innies have some serious firepower. So we're going to turn the tide."
"Figures the little runt got himself shot," Penn muttered, but not too loudly. Florida frowned again. Sota was small, but that didn't mean he wasn't a fierce fighter, and a good sniper. Unless you're the size of a house,his dad had remarked once, size don't count for much in my book.And not in his son's either. Sota was a good friend and they'd save him and the others.
Carolina continued. "Enemy presence is somewhere between eighty and one hundred men, no vehicles. Looks like they've been planning this for some time now. They have machine gun support turned on the temple, which we'll have to neutralise if we're going to rescue the others. York…"
"Boss?"
"I want you and Florida to flank them when we're deployed. It's a swamp, and the fog is rising so visibility will be poor. For them." Carolina laughed, a little trilling noise. Florida couldn't help but notice York perk up slightly when she did. "Don't break cover for any reason, and maintain radio silence. Get as close to the temple as you can, and take out those guns, however you can. Once you've done that, get inside the temple and break out the healing unit for Sota. Florida will man the steps and keep anyone else from getting inside. Clear?"
"Yessir!" They both chorused. Florida resisted the urge to rub his hands. Now this sounded like a real mission to sink his teeth into!
"Good. Maine, you'll be coming with me. We'll be drawing most of the Innie fire so Florida and York have less chance of being spotted."
A rumbling noise like distant thunder signalled that Maine was preparing to speak. Once it had all died down, he growled, "We run right into their guns?"
"No, "Carolina said with infinite patience, "we draw their fire. You have your overshield, that'll keep you from the worst of it. I've got camouflage and acceleration, so I'll be fine."
"Wasn't worried about you."
"Right. So we're good then, "Carolina sniffed. She turned in her seat to face her rival. "Penn."
He tipped his helmet in a false show of servility. "Ma'am."
"You do what you do best. Break shit. Scare them. Make them wish they'd never put a single toe on this planet."
Although by now he'd put on his helmet, Florida knew that he had that feral grin on his face. "Finally, something we can both agree on." He snapped his head around to face Maine. "Hear that, Maine? Autonomy. You can look up what it means later. Along with 'superior.'"
Maine began to snarl back a response, but was interrupted by Four-Seven-Niner's voice on the COM. "We just broke atmo, people! Get ready to bail out, 'cause I'm sure as hell not sticking around to draw RPG fire!"
Carolina unclipped her harness and made her way to the front. None of them heard what passed between them, but the Pelican veered sharply, and a torrent of curses came from the direction of the cockpit. Carolina strode out of the room, her shoulders set and fists clenched. "Change of plans," she snapped. "All of you up! We're doing this dangerously."
"Aw yeah!" York cheered, springing to his feet and yanking the shotgun from his shoulders. "What's the game plan, coach?"
"We're hot-dropping. Minimum of fifty feet. It'll give us the element of shock, and let Four-Seven-Niner dodge AA fire. The director has authorised use of armour abilities when we have boots on the ground. Connection should be established any moment."
"Aw no." York's shoulder slumped. "I hate it when we do that."
"Toughen up princess." Penn and Maine stood either side of Carolina, looking like a pair of mobsters from one of those old gangster films. Wearing the most high-tech armour available to humans, of course. York sighed, and went behind them, to stand beside Florida. He gave him a sheepish nod. "I'm not afraid of heights or anything. I just hate feeling like a camera some tourist dropped after taking a picture on a mountain."
Florida slapped him on the back. "Now now, not to worry, chum. You're York! You always bounce right back."
"Heh, I hope so," he chuckled nervously. He raised his voice, which was still filled with nervous tension. "Hey, you guys afraid of heights too? We can all hold hands."
Penn laughed scornfully, but Maine just stayed silent, hand gripped tightly around a metal handhold on the troop bay ceiling. Nothing new about that, Florida supposed. He was a quiet one, when he wasn't tryin' to rip the enemy apart with his mittens! The Innies were sure to get a taste of that today, along with some other well-deserved servings of justice, courtesy of Project Freelancer!
That's right Butch,the voice in the back of his mind purred, still carrying an undercurrent of contempt. Get angry. Get bloodthirsty, like the others. Pennsylvania and Maine, they're both killers. Carolina's a killer too, ice cold. York might joke and fool around, but he's got enough blood on his hands to paint a new set of armour. You're all the same, you Freelancers. The others are just better at admitting it than you.
He felt a bead of sweat run down his forehead and into his right eye. The stinging saltiness, and the urge to pull his helmet off to rub it. Frantically, he started looking around for his pills-
The troop bay door opened, and the wind rushed in with a roar. His feet stumbled, and he had to reach out a hand to steady himself, but the voice was gone. Florida's mind set itself in a hard place. Now was the time for business.
"Bail out!" Carolina screamed above the gale, and she dived out into the air. Penn and Maine were quick to follow, dropping straight down to the murky green below. Florida made to follow them, but York pulled him back. "Not yet!" he yelled. "We're the aces in the hole, remember?"
Florida nodded rapidly, and began to step back into the troop bay-
"Ok now!" York seized him by one shoulder pauldron and shoved him towards the ramp. He felt the clatter of metal under his feet, and then he was falling. The wind whistled through the crevices in his armour, and the world tilted crazily-
Bwoompsh!His vision became filled with fetid water, and the swamp started to pull him down. Confounded armour, it weighed more than a bull wearing concrete slippers! He rushed through his armour menu and found the icon he was looking for. An armoured man with speed lines coming out of his back. I just hope the connection works.
The icon flashed green.
Florida found himself propelled out of the water at ludicrous speed, corkscrewing up into the air as a fiery orange nimbus shot out from a port on his back. He laughed gaily, the adrenaline coursing through his system. First he fell, then he flew! The jet carried him ever upward-
And then he was falling again. Oh fudge.
Descending to earth, he bounced once against a cluster of boulders and fell to earth. Well, more like swamp. It lapped at his thighs like the tongues of a hundred yappy dogs. Ha ha, that was funny! He felt his head swim, and then a powerful urge to just lie down in the water-
"Florida! Wake up, man!"
Flaming heck. Of course, there was a mission to do! He struggled to his feet, trying to slow down his breathing. The hot-drop hadn't taken more than twenty seconds, but it had felt like a flippin' eternity! A yellow dot showed up on his motion sensor, and a bio-signature flashed into being on his HUD. "All in one piece, York?"
The tan-coloured agent shook his head resentfully. "Goddamnit. If we ever have to do that again, I'm strapping pillows to my armour." He rotated one shoulder, and sighed. "Do you think I could give a negative peer review to Carolina without her breaking my balls about it?"
Florida chuckled. "I guess we'll see." He tested out his various limbs, and found them to all be shipshape. While York dealt with his aches'n'pains, he crouched low amongst the reeds and took stock of the battlefield around them.
The Innies had seen them drop, but had yet to realise they would soon be caught in the jaws of a powerful pincer move. The terrain was mostly shallow water and clusters of reeds, but about one-fifty metres away north-east, there was a squat, A-shaped building surrounded by old columns and pillars, jutting out of a cropped hillside, a gaping mouth denoting the cave-like entrance that Virginia and her team had fled through.
That's the temple, alright.
Muzzle flashes from the gaping hole at the top of some stairs indicated the position of Virginia's team. At this range, their team bio-scan was flickering into life on Florida's HUD, and he was pleased to see that apart from skyrocketing heart rates and a few cuts and bruises, they were otherwise fine. 'Cept Sota-his biosigns were shaky at best. Florida felt a stab of worry. "We gotta get movin' York! Ready to go?"
York cracked one last muscle in his back and grunted assent. "Let's go. Move to the west, double-time. Sync?"
"Sync." Dropping low, the pair began making their way to the extreme left of the Innie positions. Although the fog had been thick, they'd both sighted dozens of green-and-grey clad forms, converging their fire on the temple. The ungodly din of machine-gun emplacements was pretty darned obvious too. Fortunately, the closest cluster of rebel soldiers was a good fifty metres or so away, and they were too busy dealing with the onset of Freelancer reinforcements.
Speakin' of! Florida risked a peek above the reeds to see how their chums were doing. He thought he spotted a flash of aqua scything its way through a squad of Innies, but he was unsure-
The boom of a frag grenade, the cracking of snapped limbs and screams of shock. Florida shook his head ruefully. Guess that answers that.He ducked back down.
Florida sloshed through the muck behind York, wishing he'd brought a gillie or somethin'. Usually he liked the colour of his armour-it reminded him of the blue skies back on the ranch on Arcadia-but it stood out like a big ol' pimple in a swamp like this. York was luckier, his armour already turning to the colour of the swamp around him.
The com crackled. "York, Florida, what's your position?" It was Carolina. She sounded out of breath, but excited. Explosions thumped in the background, and a low, mindless growling. It was probably Maine. Or a swamp bear.
"Gettin' there, ma'am, "Florida murmured back. "Still not quite around to their left flank. How about you?"
Further east from their position, Carolina sprinted to avoid a burst of machine-gun fire and catapulted into a rebel soldier before he had time to dodge. Planting one arm around his waist, she twisted him around so that the next volley of bullets struck him instead. The body jerked and stuttered, and red puffs filled the air. Carolina grinned tightly, and activated her camouflage. She faded into the background. "We are repelling in earnest." Repelling them all the way into Hell.
Her heartbeat thumped in her ears as she skidded across the swamp's inelegant surface, her HUD lit up with tactical data. She'd yet to contact Virginia's team-the jammers the Innies had must've been hidden under the swamp waters-but their bio-signs were coming through loud and clear, as was the link to the command server. Another two sets of signatures, Penn and Maine's, were most prominent in her vision. They had taken no wounds so far, and if Carolina had bothered to radio them, she would have heard nothing but horrific laughter.
Penn had delighted in finding pockets of rebels that had gotten cut off from the main group and murdering the shit out of them. His teleportation module was proving invaluable, as it simply added to the sheer confusion of the melee. Ducking a wild swing from a bear-like Innie, he accessed the icon once again and vanished from view.
The soldier scowled. "What the fu-" He turned, and barely had enough time to yell before Penn shoved a fist into his face with superhuman strength. Blood and meat sprayed as the massive gauntlet simply pulverised his face. The man toppled, but Penn was already seeking other targets. Penn's rifle chattered in his hands as he cut down another man, and he slotted a fresh clip in once he'd run dry. He took a moment to access his voice amplifier and let a harsh bray of laughter echo out across the swamp. "I love this job!" he roared. The pain of the teleportation was easily worth it.
Further towards the Innie command position near the temple steps, their captain was starting to lose his composure as word got to him about the surprise attack and how their men were being mowed down like blades of grass. He barked into his radio with a tinge of hysteria, "Goddamnit, someone report! Enemy strength, armament, anything!" The static fizzled and popped, but eventually a panicked voice came through. "Sir, I count three of them! Only three! We're trying to pin them down but they're too fast, and the big one, he just won't fucking-argh!" The voice cut off suddenly.
Three of them, nearly a hundred of us. God help us all.Trying desperately to stop the shaking in his hands, he grabbed one sergeant by his arm and yelled, "Bring up the reserves! Leave those bastards in the temple to rot, we can handle them later!" The sergeant nodded fervently, and dashed off into the mist to rally the men who, thus far, had no idea about the Freelancers currently slaughtering them from behind.
His feet slipped and slid on the fetid mud, and the sergeant stifled the urge to scream aloud-at the swamp, at the temple and at the goddamned Freelancers! How were they supposed to challenge these sons of bitches? With their armour and their upgrades, and their effortless ability to take down their soldiers like they were mere infants? He had started off with five men, three of them veterans. Now they were all dead, killed by that blue-green bitch.
He had to get to the other squads, pull them back. Concentrate their fire on their enemies before they all died, to a man-
The mud beneath the sergeant's feet suddenly gave way, and he fell to the ground. He swore viciously, fingers digging into the squalid mud in a vain attempt to gain purchase. No such luck-he just fell over again. "God-fucking-damnit!" he roared. "Fucking swamp!" His head swung to a patch of watery to his right. Maybe he could plant one foot in there where it was deeper and lever himself upward-
The water's surface rippled. At the same time, an almighty thud echoed through the ground. Then another. Then another. The sergeant gaped, and looked about for the source of the noise. Oh Jesus save me-
Something came through the mist. It was staggeringly big. Tall and wide. Wreathed in fog, as it drew closer, taking large, swinging steps, it shone brilliant white. Except for the head. That was a lurid gold, blinding as a stray sunbeam reflected off it. Apart from its footsteps, it made no noise. Except…what was that coming from the helmet speakers? Was that…music?
"…I wanna hear that roaring sound, when I walk I will shake the ground…"
The sergeant scrambled backwards, crushing reeds and feeling water slop against his back. He did not know why, but the sight of this apparition triggered a deep-seated and instinctive fear in him. He needed to get away. Far away. He couldn't be anywhere near this thing.
But it kept on coming, indomitable and inexorable. The hapless rebel tried to scream, to yell. He even tried to reach for his sidearm, but sheer terror paralysed his arms, palsied them with uselessness. Even trying to breathe right now was an effort.
A hand reached out for him. Behind it came a low hissing noise, like something a slavering wolverine would make. And still, that infernal music:
"Don't make me miss the rush, take me to the crush!"
The hand clenched, became a fist, sped towards him. The man just shut his eyes and waited for the end.
Maine stared contemptuously down at the man whose face he had just pulped into nothing and rolled his neck. This was his natural environment. And there were plenty of people to kill.
Meanwhile, as the beleaguered Innie forces desperately tried to hold back the Freelancer blitzkrieg, Florida and York had hit the far edges of the swamp and were making good time. The sounds of the battle off to the east had dulled somewhat, and the ground beneath their feet was becoming firmer. Thankfully, their high-tech armour was keeping them safe for the worst of it. York jabbed a finger towards the temple steps, about three hundred metres away. "By the time we get ourselves over there, Carolina and her merry men should have cleared a path. We'll pincer movement those cockbites." He laughed. "Nice break from fighting aliens, hey Florida?"
"I'll say." Though this was quite a doozy of a mission, it beat the heck out of fightin' those darned aliens. They'd nearly taken the Mother of Invention and all the souls aboard it. He shivered, then refocused. "Motion trackers or sensors read anything?"
York shook his head dismissively. "Nah, besides, I doubt the Innies would have had time to put up any real defences. Theirs was a surprise attack, remember?" He took point, and started moving east. Florida was right behind him, when he heard a strange buzzing noise. What was that, some kinda insect or bird? He couldn't quite place it…
Perhaps it was his own li'l foray into the ship's armoury, or one of Georgia's crazy experiments, but something in the past brought the sound's identity rushin' to the forefront of his mind. "Antilon mine!" he bellowed, sprinting forward and seizing the back of York's armour. "Get down-"
As it happened, when Florida looked back on that moment, he was just darned glad of two things. One, that York was no greenhorn out on the field. From the moment he'd heard Florida's panicked shout, he'd flung himself backwards, aiming for the ground. Two, that the swamp's surface here was still soft and pliable, which meant a body could dig itself in plenty. Them two things saved both their bacon.
York's body went limp, which told Florida the blast had knocked him unconscious. Stifling a yell, he dragged his teammate's body back from the deadly minefield-that he couldn't frackin' see!He muttered a quick apology for nearly cursing and checked York's vitals. Some concussion and internal damage, which would have been easy enough to fix on the ship. As it was, they were in this stinkin' swamp with nothing but reeds and toads!
Wait a doggone moment…He patted over York's armour until he found the slot for the armour enhancement. The healing unit! It wouldn't power on without a command from York's armour. Maybe if he removed his helmet-
A sniper bullet struck the ground right next to him, and he rolled to avoid the next one. Ducking low, Florida bit his lip as he saw five figures emerge from the mud and slime of the swamp. Unlike the other rank-and-file, these ones were dressed in matte black armour with red highlights. Elites. They must have concealed themselves during the initial attack on the temple, prepared to act as an interdiction force in case of emergency. Clearly, their insertion qualified.
One of them shouldered his rifle and beckoned to him. "Well come on then, old man. Guns on the ground. We don't have all day." They expected him to surrender? Fat flippin' chance! Never say die!
Florida said nothing, only cycled through his armour menu again. Found that same icon from before. Stood stock still.
The leader swore, and gestured to one of his men. "Fiennes, drop this son of a-"
He was unable to speak the next part of this sentence as Florida careered into him on a rocket-propelled burst of speed. The man's ribcage simply folded inwards and he collapsed to the ground, making noises like a tire that had all the air let out of it. The men under him shouted with shocked rage and brought their weapons to bear.
Florida's thrusters pack still had some juice left in it after that burst, so he input a voice-activated macro command that Georgia had been kind enough to fix up for him. The thrusters redirected, and he shot up into the air, about ten feet over the heads of the Innie soldiers. Rifles tipped towards the sky, but by the time they got shots off, Florida had landed, and primed a smoke grenade from his rifle. Have a load of this one, you wallies!
Bwoomf!Acrid green smoke filled the air, making the already-foggy swamp an absolute pea-souper. Florida ducked low, and swiped the legs out from one man, sending him to the ground to join his leader. He flicked a knob on his rifle, and a serrated-edged knife popped out alongside the barrel. He swung it downwards, and the knife carved through the man's legplate like….well, like a knife! The man screamed in agony, and Florida winced. Sorry 'bout that, chum, but you picked a bad side to stand on.
One of the men had wiped away enough of the smoke to see clearly, and charged forward with a roar. Florida took a nasty blow to one side of his face, and his vision went blurry for a moment. But he reacted quickly, and brought the butt of the rifle down on the man's outstretched arm. There was a snap of bone and the man swore loudly, clutching it with his other hand. Another follow-up smash to the visor and the man stumbled back, glass in his eyes. He vanished into the mist, arms wavin' about.
Suddenly two large arms clamped around his waist and held fast. Some sneaky scoundrel had gotten the jump on him! He fought and wriggled, but these boys must've had power armour of their own, because he heard the whining of servos, and he couldn't break out of the grip. He tried to use the thrusters pack, but the icon was still recharging. It would be another few minutes at the least, and even then he'd risk damaging his armour's systems. Darn it all!He kept trying to break free, but a knife went to the softer material of his neck seal. "You move one more time and I'll give your neck a big smile, fuckin' Freelancer, "a voice snarled.
Another Innie emerged from the smoke, fists up. "Finally got one!" Florida was a tad shocked to hear that the voice was a woman's. Guess it's not just us with all manner of hot-tempered ladies. "Guess we have time to have some fun with this one."
He heard a sour grunt behind him. "The others aren't holding the line, Fiennes. They'll be overrun soon."
"Fuck 'em, "the female Innie snorted dismissively. "We've got our way out." She stepped forward and socked Florida in the jaw. His head rolled back, and he tasted blood in his mouth. Resisting the urge to spit it out, he swallowed it heavily. "That all you got then, little lady? My grandma hits harder than you." That earned him another punch, this time in the gut. His armour took most of it but it still felt nasty. He spluttered. This wasn't going well. They needed to take down the machine guns!
The woman grabbed his neck and twisted it hard to one side. Her visor, like his, was polarised, so neither could see each other's faces. "Why are you hunting us?" she hissed. "Why can't you just leave us alone, you son of a bitch? What did we ever do to you?" She almost sounded like she was going to start crying.
"It's not what you did to us," Florida responded coolly. "It's what you've done to other people. We're paying you back, for them." She whipped an elbow into his visor, making his visor rattle with the impact. It didn't stop there, either. Crazy hen's gonna break my nose!
Fuck you," she whispered. "Every last one of you will die. For what you've done. To me and mine." She turned to look off to her right. "Dunne, you found the one he was with? Dunne?"
A voice returned, sounding muffled. "Got him right here."
The woman placed her hands on her hips. "Well, you wanna hurry the fuck up and bring him out?"
"Of course." The limp body of the third elite trooper came flying through the mist and collided with the woman, sending her to the ground with a squawk. The one holding Florida gasped, and loosened his grip somewhat, enough to let him drive a boot into the man's knee and get loose. Florida whirled around and put his fists up. The man who had been holding him growled and moved forward. "I'll-"
With a wink of light, Penn appeared behind the man, seized his neck and deftly snapped it. The man fell without a sound. "Die, "Penn finished. He gave Florida a nod, and pointed. "Got survivors, I see." The leader, the woman and the one Florida had stabbed were all lying on the ground, groaning in pain. Florida nodded. "Sure do! Prisoners, you think, Penn ol' buddy?"
Penn pulled out his pistol and fired three times. Blood sprayed from their helmets. The big man shook his head. "No." He began walking away, but Florida caught up to him and grabbed an arm. "They might have surrendered!"
His teammate grabbed him by the front of his armour and yanked him in close. "Are you as dumb as I took you for? These fuckers will never stop fighting us, so it's our job to murder the shit out of them. End of story." He released Florida, and tilted his head towards the temple. "We're going to take those guns out of commission, since you two morons couldn't do it yourselves. You staying here or coming with us?"
"I-"
York's voice came over the radio, and Florida felt a surge of relief. He sounded like he'd gone ten rounds with a prize-fighter, but alive. "I'm ok, Florida. Go get 'em. I'll be fine for a while."
"If you're sure…" Florida was quite torn-leaving his buddy behind didn't jive quite well with him. But the sound of the guns convinced him, so he scooped up his rifle and bounded off into the fog, followin' Penn.
Along the way, he passed the bodies of rebels. Some had been shot, but many more just had necks snapped, chests crushed and all manner of gruesome injuries. "Been busy, I take it?" he asked feebly, and Penn grunted with satisfaction. "They were weak. We cut through most of them not long ago. Only the command post still active now, but the guns got turned around to face us. Carolina and Maine are trying to push through, but they need backup."
As if on cue, Carolina's voice came through the com. "Penn, where the hell are you? Where are Florida and York? Did you find them?"
Before Penn could reply with what would probably have been a sarcastic and/or nasty rejoinder, Florida cut in. "We're on our way ma'am! York's down but not out ma'am! Where do you need us?"
"Right here! Maine's been hit and they've got me pinned down! It's now or never!"
Florida and Penn shot each other looks, and doubled their pace. The swamp flew by in a blur, and the fog parted before them like a milky curtain. Just then-
-they burst through it and found themselves hurtling towards the former Innie outpost, and accordingly, incoming machine gun fire. Penn swore and teleported behind a toppled Innie munitions crate, but Florida didn't have this luxury. "Yikes!" he shouted, and dove for cover. He only just managed to dodge a final burst before the gunfire turned off to the right, no doubt aiming for Maine or Carolina. He keyed the radio. "Orders, ma'am?!"
He heard Carolina utter a stream of curse words, and speak, her voice harder than battleplate. "Penn! Move up!"
"Are you fucking kidding me? Into what? There's nothing between here and the temple but swamp!" Penn sounded livid as all heck, and Florida didn't rightly blame him.
"That's an order, goddamnit! Florida! I need bombardment on that machine gun position! Use your grenades!"
He looked down at his rifle and checked the amount. Five. Would it be enough? They were about to find out. He looked over at Penn, who looked angrier than a rattlesnake at this crazy plan. "On my mark, Penn! One…two…three…"
"Fuck, "Penn said plainly.
"Mark!"Penn dived out of cover, rolled and started running in a zigzag. The machine gun positions immediately tracked him and opened fire, but he initiated teleport and kept one step ahead of the volley."Ffffffuuuuuuuuu-" he screamed with rage.
Meanwhile, Florida rose up from cover and let loose with everything he had. "Take this!" he cried.
Voom! Voom! Voom! Voom! Voom!Five black orbs arced toward the temple steps, descended-
A blinding flash of light and pressure blew him off his feet, and everything went white. Ringing in his ears-
A hand slapped across his visor, and he blinked frantically to clear the haze. It was Carolina, looking a little worse for wear. She extended a hand to him. "Good job Florida. Up you get. We're not done."
Though he didn't want to be a whinger or a whiner, Florida couldn't help but groan. "Not done? We've got 'em whipped!"
"Not quite." Carolina looked about the swamp, taking in the craters, dead bodies and discarded Innie equipment. "This all came from somewhere. And this was too big a group for it to be a random strike. They're organised. Not to mention a significant amount of them fell back towards the..." She was silent for a moment, and then spoke again. "Sound off everyone!"
"Maine here." A throaty growl. "Need biofoam. Bleeding."
"Pennsylvania still in one piece, despite your blatant fucking attempt to get me killed! And-"
Everyone muted him simultaneously. Sometimes enough was enough.
"York reporting in. And goddamnit, I want overtime."
"We don't get overtime York, remember?" Carolina responded tartly. She swung her gaze up to the temple steps, now more of a blackened rubble-pile after Florida's bombardment. "Virginia, you copy?"
To Florida's relief, Virginia responded, sounding too out of breath to be snippy, like she usually was when talking to their number one. "I read you, Carolina. Thanks for the hand. We're all pretty beat up. Sota slipped unconscious about eight minutes ago. He needs help bad."
"Copy that, Virginia, get your team ready for dust-off. Everyone gather at this waypoint in five!" She sent a blue beacon to their HUDs, and waited. In the meantime, Florida just sat down, his back on a crate, and sighed. What a day it had been!
Maine appeared out of the fog like a bogeyman, albeit a bogeyman with a nasty wound in his side. As per usual, he didn't seem to be feeling it at all, but there was a lot of blood. York and Penn drifted in not long after, the latter still looking murderous. Florida felt a tremor of unease. Maybe Carolina was the boss, but Penn didn't seem the kind to take that sorta treatment for very long.
Carolina muttered something under her breath, and then activated her com again. "Mother of Invention, come in, come in. This is Agent Carolina."
A curt voice came over the com, and Florida flinched a little. The Director himself. He must've had his eyes on this mission. "Carolina, your report."
"Enemy presence neutralised. Virginia's team is alive, though Sota is badly wounded-"
"Did any of the rebels escape?"
You could almost hear Carolina's teeth grind in her helmet. "…some did, sir. Fleeing towards the local communities."
"I see. Disappointing." The Director didn't sound like it, though. Just bored. Florida frowned. He should have more respect for a lady who tries as hard as Carolina…
Credit to her, she sounded eager to make up for it. "Sir, we can get after them directly. If we could just-"
"Save it, agent. I have a team prepped and ready for pursuit. Your task is accomplished. Gather the others and proceed to the nearest extraction point. That is all that need be understood. Director Church out."
A burp of static, and then nothing but the swamp sounds. Florida hung his head with exhaustion, looked at the filthy water between his ankles, and sighed. What a day.
