Author's notes: Many apologies for the long wait! Again, university has been eating into a lot of my time, as has various events and attempting to make a fresh start. I've been slaving over this chapter almost non-stop all day today, so chances are there's plenty of errors. I could wait for my beta to get time and lend me a hand but really, you guys have been waiting long enough as it is, so let's put this up and fix it later.
Enjoy this super-long almost 10,000 word long chapter!
Edit: some corrections made and some slight change regarding the radio/mic mechanics. Thanks to GothicCheshire as always, I swear I wouldn't be this far without her aid ^_^;
Chapter 32: Operation Triple S
Jack tried to keep his hands steady as he focused his sight through his scope, slowly trailing his rifle from one end of the facility to the other before muttering the go-ahead into his radio. Taking a deep breath, the Sniper tried his best to get comfortable in his position, aware that he needed to be on top form for this mission to succeed. It was best not to think about how insane it was or how the rest of the team were doing on their respective operations, that sort of thinking would quickly lead to despair and reduced performance.
So instead he kept position and remained vigilant, hoping that Scout and Spy didn't cock anything up. Naturally, no sooner than the prayer passed through his mind, did chaos ensue in the form of alarms and loud gunfire.
"...piss."
No change to his expression, the Sniper brought his weapon to bear as enemy soldiers started rushing from one side of the base to the other.
BOOM. The sound of single shot piercing the air, the clatter of a spent round hitting the floor, the well-practiced motion of replacing the round, and drawing the bolt back.
BOOM. Efficiency. BOOM. Precision. BOOM. Confusion. BOOM. Fear.
Shot after shot flying through skulls over great distance, a morbidly beautiful scene of round after round perfectly sailing over air and wind, punching through grey matter and strewing about a mess of flesh to the concrete below.
"Boom...headshot."
###
Gabriel cautiously peered around the corner, pressed tightly to the wall, before silently switching over to the wall across the gap and continuing to slink down the hallway, tranquilliser gun in hand. He'd already disabled the basic security systems in this part of the facility and they were few people about in this restricted area to note his movements. Whilst this reduced chances of detection somewhat, it made disguises somewhat useless as any individuals wandering around here, with clearance or otherwise, would be questioned. In theory, if the operation went as it should, there should essentially be nobody here; all pre-occupied with...other matters.
Of course, that did rely on the damn boy actually doing his job properly, something that seemed to only occur every other blue moon. Indeed, this whole plan was ridiculous, even if the Frenchman himself had been a major force in the planning process and had acquired most of the necessary information. That he had been paired with the Scout and Sniper for his mission made sense on paper but was something he was seriously starting to question as he went deeper and deeper through the dimly-lit corridors, wary for the slightest bit of noise, ready to cloak at any moment.
"Operation Triple S", as the Pyro had so creatively called it, was but one of three operations currently being executed in parallel by Team Fortress to disrupt the Administrator's efforts, gain information and potentially place themselves in a position to launch a full-scale attack in the future. This particular facility was known to house experimental technology and held data concerning the Administrator's HQ. It was the Spy's job to infiltrate the restricted area, preferably without being discovered, retrieve anything of use and sabotage the base's core systems.
The gentlest of humming, only audible because of the dead silence around him, made the Spy mentally curse and cloak on the spot, slowly searching for the source of the noise. Further down the hallway, strange sensors embedded in the wall searched, still active despite the more basic security systems being disabled. Wary that they may have thermal imaging or otherwise be able to see through his cloak, Gabriel searched for another way to advance, dearly hoping that a certain hyperactive Bostonian was doing his part of the mission properly...
###
Kevin felt his heart racing and pounding as his feet beat down on the cold floor below him, panting as bullets whizzed by, taking chips out of the concrete walls. Coming to a crossroads, he turned the corner only to find himself facing a small group of officers, who immediately spotted him and went for their weapons. Doubling back on himself and making sure he didn't run into the other group already chasing him, the runner darted off, drawing his pistol and firing a few shots behind him, not bothering to look if any hit.
A door ahead. A normal person would have slowed down to open it, or maybe check whether it was locked before running through it. Perhaps someone like the Heavy, confident in their size and strength, would tackle through it. The Scout was neither and so, with a cocky grin, he leapt through the air and attempted to kick the door down.
A loud thud and a yelp of pain, followed by a smaller thud and a grunt of annoyance as the young mercenary impacted the steel door and fell onto his rear. The sound of running footsteps approaching quickly got him back to his feet and off again. Dashing down a long hallway, he noted that more and more bullets were starting to tear through the ground around him and a few even zipped dangerously close to his ears.
Unfortunately, he also noted that a small group of soldiers wielding machine guns who looked most displeased with his behaviour were blocking the way. Oddly enough, this didn't faze Kevin, who merely laughed and drew out his modified Force-A-Nature. An extra burst of speed, gun levelled at the nearest enemy, he took off.
Adrenaline burning, blood pumping, heart thumping, he felt that all too familiar sensation of time slowing as loud bangs erupted in front of him. Bullet after bullet missed, the enemy not expecting the speed increase or him to jump. Those few that came too close were dodged effortless as the Scout jumped again, now soaring high above the soldiers, hat grazing the roof, weapon aimed down at the nearest grunt.
There was no time to react. Two powerful blasts, a spew of dangerous shrapnel, the weapon buckling in the mercenary's hands. Buckshot ripped and tore through weapons, armour and flesh alike, impacting the ground and blasting it into a flurry of dust and concrete chips. A perfect landing behind them, dust and blood floating in the air as the soldier falls to his knees, the sound of two shells landing on the floor and rolling to a halt.
The clak-clak as two more shells are loaded, as the men slowly turn, the lucky blown apart at point-blank range before they can even face the intruder. The less lucky see the confident grin of a boy in blue before they too die, bodies torn apart to be tripped upon in the cloud of dust by their allies a few seconds later.
But to the Scout, a few seconds is an eternity, for he is already gone, whooping and yelling, drawing all the attention he can.
###
Jack curses as more and more of the enemy, panicking and confused, attempt to enter the main block of buildings and chase after the Scout. Sure the plan called for a diversion, but ideally the twitchy lil' bugger was supposed to get a little further in and maybe steal a few things of value himself from the core part of the facility before unleashing all hell.
There was only so fast he could kill the rapidly-growing numbers of enemies and some of the more intelligent ones had already seemed to get a rough idea of direction and had found appropriate cover. All it would take was an officer or two managing to get stuff under better control over there and they would start to hunt him down too. Fortunately, the vast majority did seem more pre-occupied with the intruder already on base and trying to get groups together.
Likewise, it seemed the Spy had taken out communications properly, none of the few vehicles he had seen appeared to have come from off-base yet and nobody had even given the restricted area of the base a second glance. Relaying all he had seen to his fellow team mates for this operation, the Sniper turned his gaze exclusively to officers and other higher-ups, sowing further confusion and fear amongst the ranks.
Noting that a lone vehicle had left the base and was heading in his direction, the Australian lined up his sights, waiting for the opportune moment. Whether they were searching for him or going off-base for help, neither mattered, their fate would end the same. Thinking furiously, he tried to gauge the wind and the SUV's velocity as best he can before finally taking the shot.
The shot was barely heard over the commotion and gunfire at the base, but the results themselves could be clearly seen. The windshield shattered and the driver's head was turned into a mess on the seating and steering wheel, the car screeching and flipping over onto its side, screeching as it skidded across the road before coming to a halt.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Jack lowered his rifle for a moment, pausing to let his heartbeat slow down a little before returning to picking off soldiers from afar. However, the Sniper never got that far, his heart instead starting to pound away as gunfire was sprayed in his general direction. None of it was close enough to his hiding spot for him to have been noticed, but it appeared that at least one person in the SUV had survived the crash and judging from the yells off to one side, another group on foot away from the main base had realised there was a sniper in this area.
Reloading his rifle, the Australian slung it across his back, adjusted his hat and slowly rose to a low crouch, crossbow in hand, a bolt already loaded, string taught. Stealthily leaving his nest behind to find a new vantage point for closer range combat, a single sentence was uttered to let his fellow operatives know of his situation:
"You're on ya own for a while, mates."
###
Gabriel did not respond to that, maintaining silence. Whilst he was fairly certain that the enemy's ability to intercept and receive radio transmissions had been destroyed, he didn't want to risk something as simple as a microphone picking up his response. While there was a button to silently transmit a click of acknowledgement, he simply didn't bother, figuring that the bushman probably wouldn't have heard it even if he had sent a click.
Unable to find an alternate route or a way to disable whatever devices had been in the wall, he'd been forced to quickly sneak by them whilst cloaked. No alarms had sounded thus far, but he didn't want to take any more chances. He didn't, however, expect the sentry turret, painted a dull grey, to be waiting for him around the next corner.
For a moment, still cloaked through the power of the Omniwatch, he was startled, the beeps and whirs reminding him of the dread modified sentries the RED Engineer had used to great effect at the final battle at Teufort. Reminding himself that those were specially modified by Isaac to detect cloaked enemies and that this was just some knockoff version of the level 2 sentry that TF Industries had made, he took another step forward.
And then was forced to dive behind a corner as a loud beep followed by a hail of bullets ensued. Between what bullets had managed to graze him and his awkward landing, the Spy was in some amount of pain and was certain that if he was not fast he'd been in for a lot more. No major alarms had started ringing, but surely, even if they hadn't rigged the firing of any sentries to trigger the main alarm, it would notify someone, who'd be sure to investigate.
If worst came to worst, activating the Dead Ringer function would probably confuse the sentry at least briefly and allow him past, but it would be a large risk. A sentry going off with seemingly nobody nearby once could just be a minor technical glitch. Going off twice however, would definitely prompt a search, even with Scout distracting the bulk of the enemy.
If there was such a thing as gods, they were smiling on Gabriel that day, for the sound of running footsteps behind him gave way to the sight of what appeared to be one of the base's engineers, already talking into a short-range communications device and with a pistol in hand.
"I'm investigating it right now, sir, we have had a few misfires before since testing these modifications and in all honesty the modified turrets aren't really ready to be...I'm aware of the orders from Command, sir."
The military engineer went straight past the cloaked Spy and slowly approached the turret. The machine's movements changed briefly as it looked upon this new target, before assigning it as an ally and returning to its sweep. The Spy thought carefully for a few moments. This man was likely well-trained enough that taking him head-on or attempting to sneak by with the Dead Ringer would just result in an alert actually being raised.
"Well, it looks like there's a minor error with the recognition system, it might accidentally target some members of restricted-area staff but those with access cards for this level like myself-"
Sudden clarity hit Gabriel as the engineer was talking and tinkering with the turret. A dangerous move that would risk injury, and temporarily increase security, but could allow him clear sailing past that. Still utilising the standard Inviswatch and the Cloak and Dagger elements of the Omniwatch, he stepped out from around the corner...
A beep, a spray of bullets, a splattering of blood on the floor. The body fell over, draping itself onto the turret as an agitated voice cried out for a report and an invisible mercenary ran past the scene, desperately getting out of range.
###
Kevin was tempted to say some joke about how the damn Aussie was normally at the back doing his own thing and leaving them alone to get real work done anyway, but for once decided that perhaps paying attention to the whole "not dying" thing was more important than being annoying to the older man. Considering that he'd by this point left a lot of bodies behind him, and judging by the explosions, the enemy was now mad enough at him to start using grenades in their own building and risk killing their own men or destroying their own crap, it was a good decision.
Still, if they were gonna bring explosives into this...the more the merrier, right?
Indeed, between running around, killing people and generally being an amazingly handsome daredevil any girl would have to be mad not to fall in love with, he'd also been planting explosive charges behind him. It was just about waiting for the right moment, so he could cause as much damage as possible, and maybe start looting the place.
Caught up in his own inflated ego and attempting to multitask dodging, running, and actually thinking all at once, the Scout didn't notice when the twisting passages eventually opened up into a large open room with many doors and corridors branching out.
What he did notice, however, was that there were a lot of enemies in here with their guns aimed at him and somebody had actually set up several mounted miniguns and cover to hide behind. Coming to an abrupt halt, the runner took all this in and slowly raised his hands into the air, turning to face whichever idiot it was that was barking orders at him. Not even caring about the contents of the angry speech or the amount of weaponry currently levelled at him and just begging for an excuse to be fired, his eyes wandered about the room, suddenly locking in on an oddly attractive air vent.
Yawning exaggeratedly and causing the commander to pause in his yelling, the Scout reached for the detonation button and pressed it, making sure to give everyone a piece of his mind with his other hand.
A string of explosions shook the ground as one by one the charges detonated, spiralling around the base and getting closer and closer, blasting dust in before the final one covered the room in smoke. A few of the more aware troops had fired off at the intruder before the final detonation but they were too late, he had already ran away from where he had been standing and under the cover of smoke and dust, he entered the air vent.
Let those knuckleheads follow him now!
###
The one survivor from the SUV crash had been injured and Jack had been able to deal with him easy enough. The real problem was with the group who had been away from the base at the start of this mess. He didn't think they'd been able to contact the outside world either, but they'd entered this situation expecting trouble and had kept their heads much better, likely because their leader was alive and had kept them together. They were alert, watched each other's backs, and whilst not as good hunters as himself, they were fairly stealthy and had picked up on the fact that they were being watched.
He'd have already lodged either a bullet or a bolt in them, but that would have quickly given away his position and he had yet to find a good spot to engage them. The Sniper had erased his tracks as best he could and was generally covering himself well, traversing the trees and long grass here on the edge of the base, always several steps ahead of his prey and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The moment came with a series of explosions rumbling through several buildings at the main facility. The group were startled and had their attention elsewhere for but a moment, but that moment was all he needed.
A pull of the trigger, a quiet twang of the string, the whistle of a bolt through the air before it lodged itself in the unprotected neck of the soldier who'd looked towards the base first. Hearing their comrade gurgling on his way to a painful death, they turned towards him and the next nearest soldier likewise got a bolt to the throat for his trouble.
Only their leader was able to keep his sense together long enough to determine a rough direction the shots had come from, but the Australian was already on the move again, finding a new place to hide, ignoring the explosions and the painful spasms as the two soldiers died, their comrades distraught. But they moved on in pursuance of vengeance, knowing full-well that with no medic in their group and such projectiles lodged there, their fallen members had no chance of recovery.
Jack didn't like those last two kills, they weren't as clean and efficient as he'd like, but with the armour and helmets he was doubtful he could get quick kills through attacking those areas. His bolts would likely penetrate the armour, but not do sufficient damage to kill or even drop the body in a single shot. His rifle was enough for the job, but it would give away his position much easier and was harder to use at such close range.
No, hiding in whatever cover he could find, be it natural or wrecked military equipment, and slowly cutting down their numbers would have to suffice.
###
Coming to a halt in the office room, the investigation unit turned to face their analyst, who was looking at his sensor display intently. Finally he shook his head and turned to his commander.
"Sorry ma'am, definitely nobody using SpyTech cloaking devices in the area, looks like this tragic accident was just that: an accident."
The commander of this small, but elite group, sighed, face frowning as she took one last glance around the room, gaze settling on a large cardboard box lying in the corner.
"Indeed, it looks like there was no intruder to the restricted area after all and with the entrances all locked down, I suppose we had best aid the incompetent regulars outside and in the main complex."
The other troops in the squad left the room at this, but she alone waited, gun still drawn and ready.
"After all, it's not as if anyone could sneak in this far through other means!"
At that, the troops turned back to see their commander open fire on the cardboard box, tearing holes through it. Slowly approaching it, she kept her weapon level, a look of triumph on her face. One that quickly turned to disgust upon opening the box and finding nothing but shredded papers and folders inside.
Most looked at their commander's behaviour then looked at each other and shrugged. Only one nodded and walked out side-by-side with the commander, calling back to Command and stating that there had been no breach into the restricted area. It was a stressful day and he couldn't fault the commander for being so paranoid and making sure there was definitely no breach. But still...what self-respecting infiltrator would hide in a cardboard box?
At that moment Gabriel was trembling in the other cardboard box in the room, conveniently hidden behind the open door and quietly praising the powers that be that he hadn't chosen the box that was currently more a pile of shredded paper and cardboard than a storage unit. The Frenchman was longing to light a cigarette and calm his nerves a little but knew that to do so would be suicidal and as such, hadn't brought any with him.
All the same, that had come far too close. It was just fortunate the investigating unit hadn't thought to bring a thermal or x-ray scanner instead of one that just detected cloaking device usage. Still, that he'd been reduced to hiding in a cardboard box in one of the researcher's offices whilst in the underground levels of the restricted area was a mark of shame that he'd ensure nobody ever found about. Ever.
###
The ventilation system was cramped and dark but Kevin had no issues scurrying about the system with his small, lean frame. It seemed the earlier explosions had caved in a good few routes and even without his presence directly getting attention, things were generally chaotic below him, easily masking his clanking movements. He could only hope that he'd bought enough time for Spy to get whatever exactly it was they were hiding away and that Sniper hadn't gone and gotten himself killed.
As for himself...
The Scout peered through a grate into an empty room that looked promising. Pulling out his trusty bat and with a little "bonk!" he couldn't resist throwing in, the boy dropped into the empty room, noting the large size, machines everywhere and the single locked steel door preventing access from the outside. Something about that door looked familiar...
Shrugging it off, the Bostonian took to destroying as much stuff in the room as possible, figuring that all this hi-tech junk was probably important for something or other. He perhaps found smashing everything a little too much fun and really, if someone else on the team were here, they'd argue that breaking some of the legs off the tables wasn't really necessary, but hey, better to be carried away with your work than not do it properly at all, right?
Hearing noises outside the room brought him out of his happy state and instead caused panic as muffled voices said something or other he couldn't make out. Well-aware that they likely heard him and that someone may have the key or code or whatever to enter the room or that they could just blow the door up, Kevin smacked one last monitor with his bat, picked up a bunch of folders that looked vaguely important, tossed them in his bag and just as he was about to see if he could climb back into the vent, a little something caught his eye, lying out in the open on one of the tables he hadn't turned his destructive impulses towards yet.
Picking up what appeared to be some prototype grenade; the boy jumped up and squeezed back into the vent just as the door was blown open. Pulling the pin, the Scout rolled the grenade out into the room and not caring for noise or the pain, crawled away from there as fast as his hands and knees could take him.
The explosion produced a lot more light than it seemed it should have and the light seemed to linger longer than it should have. There were screams and then...a fwooshing noise? After that, silence, asides from the vent shaking a little. He ignored it and pressed on, darting around a corner, groping around as he got further away and was plunged into darkness.
Or rather, was in darkness until he made another turn in the ventilation system and found light pouring in from another exit ahead of him. So eager was he to get away again, he didn't notice the creaking and groaning as he darted for the exit, or the fact that the vent system was still shaking a little. The sound of something collapsing behind him did alert him, but by that time it was too late and the metal beneath him gave way...
###
The target moved at the last moment, rising up out of his crouch and so the bolt instead impacted his chest, punching through the padding and wounding him. A cry of pain and a stream of random fire in Jack's direction let him know that his cover was blown.
There were only three of them left, their leader, the one he'd just injured and one supporting the injured one. The leader was already charging forwards, trying to spot the Sniper whilst the two at the back fired wildly into the grass and trees, hoping to connect with their unseen attacker. The Australian rolled out of the way, having already loaded another bolt. Coming to a halt on his stomach once more, he took a single shot to the leader's knee, causing him to trip and fall.
Alas, he didn't get the chance for another shot. The injured one, leaning on his healthy companion for support had spotted him and was firing. The Sniper had no choice but to get up to his feet and hide behind what looked like the wreckage of some strange tank, switching out the crossbow for his dual revolvers. Biting back the urge to grumble under his breath about the situation, instead he popped out, noted that their leader had vanished since he'd darted for cover and instead fired off a pair of shots at the rear pair.
One shot pinged off the uninjured one's helmet, the round unable to do more than dent the metal, but that was enough. The force of the blow disorientated the solider, causing him to stagger away slightly. This was enough for the injured one, crossbow bolt still in his chest, who was leaning on his comrade for support, to fall to the ground, his leaning post suddenly out of position. He fell on his front, lodging the bolt further in, but this was not what finished him.
His helmet had not been properly secured, and so with his fall, rolled off, leaving his head open for a shot to be punched straight through his skull with the second shot. With such an opportunity, Jack didn't waste it, and sure enough, the fallen soldier was slain, bringing the enemy's numbers down to two.
Darting back behind cover before either could react and noting that the leader was still nowhere in sight, decided to retreat further, bullets pinging off the wreckage as he did so. The leader seemed to be very aware of his position, and with him out of sight...well, even with his movement impeded by that crossbow bolt in his leg, it was still possible for him to sneak up on the Sniper or simply get a better position.
Fortunately it seemed that he wasn't the only one uncertain of where the commander of the group had gone. Pressing himself up to the tree he was hiding behind, he peered out and noticed the remaining grunt sneaking to his former hiding place, machine gun brought to bear. With a sudden motion the soldier darted around the wreckage and fired, not aware of the Australian's new location. A moment of confusion, the Sniper steps out once more, moving from tree to tree with each shot.
BANG. One shot to the leg. BANG. One shot to the chest, he falls to one knee. BANG BANG. One shot to each arm, he drops his weapon. BANG. A shot grazes his face, drawing blood. BANG BANG. A final pair of shots, one bullet from each gun, and two holes are made into his neck, blood oozing out as his body hits the soil with a thump.
One more down, one to go.
It is at this point, enraged, that the group's commander snaps the bolt from his knee and charges from his hiding place to the side, combat knife in hand, screaming a battle cry for his fallen men.
###
He had found it. It had taken a lot of skill and all of his years of mastery as a Spy to pull it off, but he had finally entered the most secure room in the whole base, several levels into the restricted area and three floors underground, all without detection or triggering any automated alarms. Technology decades ahead of anything seen even at the bases of RED and BLU littered the room, from computers with no visible tape drives and holographic displays to powered armour and some sort of large ray gun on a raised pedestal that Gabriel was uncertain even the Heavy could lift.
But none of those, as interesting as they may be, where quite why he was here. After investigation he'd been able to determine that TF Industries was able to store its most secret data in a highly compressed and portable form that could contain potentially hundreds of thousands of vital documents and more in a device that could fit in the average pocket. Indeed, searching the computers found many of such pen-sized drives plugged in. Naturally, after pocketing all he could find and applying sappers to the machines and anything that looked large and dangerous in the immediate vicinity, he was free to explore a little more.
Going deeper into the room he found something that definitely piqued his interest. Contained by some sort of force-field, was a simple glowing orb. Consulting the controls near it and reading the text on display on the terminal, the infiltrator had to admit that he had no idea what exactly it was and that the only two he knew who might have a clue where too far away for him to reach from here, deep underground.
Still, the Spy was no fool, and he could understand enough to gather that whatever this strange artefact was, it was of great value and wasn't directly dangerous, the field seemed to just be there to analyse it and protect it from harm. It was small enough to be carried and no doubt would be of interest to the two Engineers once he got back to their base...no, to their home safe.
Carefully playing with the controls, wary that a wrong move could inadvertently alert the enemy to his position, he was able to turn off the sensors and lower the force-field. Stretching his hand out slowly and bracing himself, he touched the glowing orb as it pulsated slightly, and then returned to its steady glow. He touched it.
Nothing happened.
Fingers wrapping around it, he grasped it firmly and plucked it, the heavenly white light calming him, the orb somehow feeling both pleasantly warm and cool to the touch. Smiling at a job well done, he turned to leave the facility and go to a higher level so he could contact his colleagues. Knowing that he would likely have an easy time escaping now he'd gotten this far and destroyed all security systems along the way he'd found, Gabriel was eager to gloat about his flawless execution of the operation.
Fate is not without a sense of humour and so it was it at this point the alarms all across the restricted area were set off.
"...merde."
###
Scout fell painfully into the room below, shrapnel from the wrecked shaft and ceiling digging into his legs. Wincing in pain, he got up and dusted himself off, cursing under his breath as he became aware that he would not be able to run too well like this. Fortunately, as he swept his eyes across the room, it was deserted of people apart from a single scientist in a corner cowering.
Sweeping his eyes to the rest of the room, he noticed machinery, computers, some large toolboxes and most importantly, a garage door, by which stood several vehicles. As much as Kevin would love to take the miniature tank stationed there, he had to admit that he had no idea how to drive that thing and he doubted either of his teammates or the blubbering idiot in the corner there knew how to either.
"Jeez, what was that guy's problem anyway, all hidin' in that corner just because there'd been explosions and death and the ceiling collapsed in? Freaking wuss. The armoured SUV might be alright but uh...it's not that I don't know how to drive stick, it's just that I don't want to. Yeah, manual transmission sucks ass. Ooh, hello!"
The Scout's thought process hopped from the scientist to the SUV and finally to a certain polished, black motorcycle which looked both sleek and futuristic, even with that silly sidecar attached. Something about it was alluring, like this motorbike was a young handsome model that knew how to fly by and didn't give a damn about what anybody thought about it. That it also included machine guns in the front and a small turret in the sidecar helped. It was practically screaming "let me be yours" and "I'm your getaway vehicle" at him.
"Hey, frenchie, you done yet?"
No response. Whether it was that the Spy was just being an asshole, couldn't reply right now or was actually dead was impossible to tell. As much as the two clashed, if he was being truly honest with himself, Kevin would admit that he really was hoping that Gabriel was just doing silent Spy stuff and that the French bastard hadn't run into any trouble. That would suck.
Suddenly, he heard it: a click. Confirmation. Whatever situation the Spy was in, he couldn't talk but was at least well enough to press the button on his microphone that sent a quiet click to his earpiece. Such clicks were used as code between the mercenaries. The second click confirmed it: the message had been received and the answer was a clear "no".
Satisfied that Gabriel hadn't gotten his fancy ass killed yet, he casually strolled over to where the scientist was still cowering, hands above his head. The Scout drew his pistol, pointing it at the man and cleared his throat.
"Hey you. Yeah you! Y'know where the keys to that bike are? How about opening those doors for me too?"
The scientist, clearly afraid, having seen far too much excitement for today already, complied easily, handing the keys over and standing by the button to open the garage doors.
"Um...sir? That vehicle is the only model of its kind and uh..."
The runner's glare as he half-limped to the bike and climbed on to it almost made the man lose his nerve, but he continued on.
"...well, if you're going to use it, please be aware that whilst it is a military vehicle, the armoured windscreen and sidecar canopy can only withstand so much and we've not fixed all the bugs with some of the f-features yet..."
"Oh yeah? Such as?"
"Errr...the sidecar turret and temporary high-acceleration turbo modes have been a bit problematic in the p-past and..."
"Turbo mode? Oh yeah, I love the sound of that. I've heard enough egghead, open the door for me, if you don't want your big brain all over the walls and floor!"
With a sigh and mentally asking himself why he even bothered, but still acting out of self-preservation, the scientist complied, activating the button and returning to his hiding spot, hoping that his superiors would never find out about this.
As the Scout revved the engine, preparing to speed out and spread more chaos, he received the Spy's somewhat strained response:
"Oui, boy, I am done. Please give me but a few minutes to deal with things here and I shall be ready to depart. I trust you can sit still that long?"
Something had gotten the spook stressed, but all the same, his mocking tone was clearly there, so whatever the situation was, it couldn't have been too serious.
"Not a chance, you backstabbing asshole."
With that final remark, the engine roared and Kevin left the main building behind...
He was not expecting to see two tanks and a few light assault vehicles waiting for him.
"...well, fuck me."
###
The roar of anguish from the remaining soldier alerted Jack to his presence, causing him to swiftly turn around to face him and unload his remaining ammo into the charging foe. One bullet merely grazed his shoulder, another impacted his chest and the final one hit him dead in his left arm.
Realising he was out of bullets and without enough time to reload both revolvers, his enemy still charging, knife held in his right hand, the Sniper holstered his revolvers and drew his kukri, sidestepping the charge and bringing the large blade up to slice through his chest. The commander was able to recover from his missed charge and parried with his combat knife, teeth bared.
His left arm may have been injured, but that didn't mean it was useless. A quick punch to the Australian's gut took Jack off guard, allowing the solider to bring his knife up for a slash to his face. The Sniper was only just able to step back in time, the blade just barely cutting him and reopening an old wound. A strange sense of deja vu almost made him chuckle at it all, but instead he pressed back, kicking the foe in his wounded knee to bring him down and followed it up with a powerful two-handed overhead chop.
The now-deceased group's leader pushed himself back at the last moment, the kukri tearing through the front of his armour rather than through his flesh. Raising his knife and knocking the Sniper away, he got to his feet and leapt back, as Jack too took a step back and readied himself.
"You...you're...pretty good. You've been in a knife fight or two before haven't you?"
The Australian chuckled, bringing his kukri forwards so that it was clearly visible even as his other hand was reaching behind his back.
"...you could say that, mate, if this was a knife fight. That dinky lil' thing ya got there is some right shocking business."
And with that the enraged soldier charged, military issued combat knife ready to tear through the mercenary's carcass. What he hadn't expected was for his opponent to not charge or even block, but to instead pull a jar from behind his back and throw it at him with a cry of "Jarate!"
The commander was forced to stop his charged and covered his face with his right arm, lest any glass shards or the liquid inside the jar reach his eyes. It was only then as he was soaked and dripping did he slowly lower his arm and the stench reached his nostrils. With that stench and the pain of bleeding came sudden clarity of what exactly had been thrown on him.
Distracted and distraught and disgusted beyond measure, he simply stood there even as his foe charged forwards...
"Now this? This is a knife!"
With those words the kukri was buried deeply into the soldier's torso. Jack didn't know why he did it, but as he stood there, holding the blade in place, he looked into his enemy's eyes. Watched as the combination of injuries until now and this final blow finally drained the spark of life from him. Only when that spark was gone and the body limp did the Sniper wrench his blade from the corpse and let it fall onto the ground.
Wiping the blood off the weapon on the grass and sheathing it, he removed his hat for a moment to mark the passage of those he had killed so far, before returning to retrieve his crossbow and get back to his vantage point so he could return his gaze to the battle.
###
Gabriel had not been having a good time. Whilst enough of the soldiers were busy elsewhere (or simply couldn't gain access to this building without proper clearance) so that he didn't have to worry about them, there were still several security systems he'd not been able to disable. In addition to the more obvious turrets out in the open, it turned out some corridors had smaller concealed guns in the walls. Moreover, there were still a few members of staff who, whilst not soldiers themselves, had at least been given combat training so that they weren't just helpless researchers and scientists.
Nope, none of that "helpless cowering in fear" nonsense in the restricted areas, everyone and everything here was the best of the best. Didn't exactly make the Spy's job any easier, but he did note that it was fitting that a facility of the best should be compromised by himself, of all people. Between his own stealth, cloak, the Dead Ringer's feigned death, and the tranquillizer gun, he hadn't really had any problems.
Unfortunately, once he'd returned to the ground floor, he'd ran into someone he hoped he'd escaped earlier, namely the commander of the team that was investigation the security breach earlier. Considering her paranoia, he doubted he could simply sneak past her with any of her cloak functions and she wore enough armour that getting her with the tranquilliser darts would be difficult at best. That the Scout was also harassing him over radio wasn't helping, either.
It was somewhat fortunate that at least they weren't in one of the overly narrow corridors that seemed to litter the building. This area was wide, had depressions in the walls to use as cover and had enough random junk strewn about to prevent his foe from just charging straight to him. Even so, he was at the clear disadvantage, he had no armour, no backup he could rely on and none of his weapons came close to the firepower of her machine gun.
Drawing his Ambassador as he crouched behind a shipping crate, the Frenchman decided to turn on the charm and attempt the diplomatic approach first.
"Please, ma cherie! Zhere is no reason for us to fight, come let us escape together and I can show you ze world. What do you say, mademoiselle?"
Angry yelling and a burst of bullets in his direction was the commander's only response. Gabriel sighed. In all honesty, he really didn't think it would have worked, but it would have been nice. Fortunately, just because he was at a disadvantage didn't mean that he was helpless.
With a surprising level of agility he leapt from out of cover, firing off three shots in mid-flight before rolling into one of the depressions in the wall. One bullet missed, but the other two thudded against her padding. Again, a stream of bullets tore through the column of wall protecting the Spy, causing chips to go flying everywhere.
Knowing that the column wouldn't hold and that bullets were already getting through, he quickly loaded another three bullets into his weapon and cloaked away, the tell-tale noise masked by the gunfire. Sneaking back behind the metal shipping crate, which seemed to absorb the bullets a little better, Spy uncloaked and popped up, taking her by surprise and managing to unload all six shots into her body before he ducked back down again.
It would be difficult and require a good bit of ammo but he'd clearly gotten her through her armour with those shots and had drawn blood. Perhaps he could wear her down...?
Clunk!
Gabriel looked in time to notice the grenade she had tossed come to a perfect rolling halt by his side. Without time for thinking or profanity, he prepared the Dead Ringer, the cloak absorbing most of the damage of the blast and generating fake gibs to temporarily fool the commander as he made a run for it.
Alas, she seemed to know. Whether she heard the footsteps, was just really paranoid or was aware that he'd already cloaked earlier and connected the dots...either way, she didn't let her guard down and sprayed machine gun fire in every direction, hoping to clip the infiltrator. Those few that hit were thankfully negated by the cloak somewhat before it ran out and he was forced to switch to the standard cloak.
It still hurt though, and even if it hadn't been fatal or too damaging, some shrapnel from the explosion was still lodged in his body. His bleeding wasn't yet enough to be too noticeable or to cause his cloak to flicker, but all the same, he really had to run. Turning the corner, he stopped for a moment, both for breath and to let his cloak regenerate a little more as uncloaked. Aware that she was probably now chasing after him, he dropped one of the few grenades of his own before running off again, not even bothering to cloak.
Sure enough, the commander turned the corner, saw the grenade and then dove back for cover, not even able to take a single shot at the fleeing Spy. The grenade detonated, releasing a cloud of smoke, forcing the soldier to cough and obscuring her vision as she tried to pursue. Wincing and trying to keep her aim steady, she fired, only to miss her prey considerably.
Walking forwards through the spreading smoke, she didn't see Gabriel cloak immediately before a branching path of corridors and eventually get past the locked doors through simple lock-picking.
"Scout? I am done now."
###
Said Scout was currently somewhat busy with desperately trying not to become a mess on the asphalt. He'd managed to deal with any loitering soldiers on foot by simply mowing through them, firing the front-mounted machine guns or simply using his pistol one-handed, but the vehicles were proving much harder to deal with.
His main advantage was that he was faster than any of them and far more manoeuvrable than his bigger opponents, the tanks especially. Indeed, in many ways it was a familiar situation for Kevin, trying to dodge past his foes and slowly wear them down. The key difference being that on the battlefield on foot he had relatively more firepower. He'd already spent almost all of his explosives back at the main base and one of his grenades had been used to take down a light reconnaissance vehicle that had been getting a little too close in pursuing him.
The bike's machine guns and his pistol did little damage to the remaining pursuers and were less than useless versus the tanks. He figured that his Force-a-nature might be a bit more damaging if he could get close enough, but it couldn't really be used one-handed, let alone one-handed and riding a motorcycle. Fortunately the tanks weren't really too much of an issue at the moment, whoever was driving them seemed somewhat inexperienced with the controls or just didn't want to accidentally hit their allies with a shell. Either way, the slow tanks were lagging way behind and weren't an immediate threat.
Bullets pinged off the bike's frame and Kevin was forced to swerve sharply to avoid the rest of the hail of bullets. Pulling the throttle, the wheels spun madly as he essentially reversed direction, pulling out his nailgun and firing a stream of nails into one of the pursuing vehicle's tires as it passed dangerously close.
Swerving around again, the target vehicle now skidding to a halt, it was child's play to pass by again, this time with the pistol, and simply gun down the occupants of the stationary vehicle. Figuring he could possibly do that again with one of the more armoured attack cars and just toss his last grenade instead, the Scout continued to weave and avoid gunfire whilst drawing out his nailgun again.
Sadly for him, this was when one of the tankmen had finally decided enough was enough and fired a shell at him from the far rear. Whilst the shell missed, instead doing more damage to the armoured carrier on the mercenary's tail he had been thinking of attacking next, the impact still caused damage, flinging the motorcycle into the air and causing the Scout to drop his weapon.
The bike landed with a thud, the suspension straining to reduce the impact as much as possible, but all the same it nearly threw its rider off. Noting that there was still a military SUV with a roof-mounted turret, another small, fast recon vehicle and the two tanks, Kevin started driving to the other end of the base where the restricted area was.
"Hey, Gabriel? Comin' to pick you up now."
"W-wait, you've not dealt with-"
"Oi, Jack? Can I get some freaking support here?"
"On it now, you bloody gremlin, give me a moment here."
###
Sure enough, Jack had been able to return to his original sniping position and had discovered the sorry mess the younger mercenary had gotten himself into. Indeed, he'd already been setting up to give some aid to his teammate before Kevin had even contacted him.
Unlike some of the other members of the team, who carried heavily modified versions of their primary weapons, the Sniper still carried around his stock rifle. It felt right to him, the mass, the weight distribution; every little thing about it was what he was used to and worked best with. As such, he'd not been too keen on modifying his tool of the trade. Eventually, he had relented and out of practically allowed for one additional feature, one that didn't change the overall feel of the weapon, but granted him great power with the right extra components in place and a flick of the button.
He'd had to find his camouflaged bag of extra supplies and put it all together, but it was ready. The standard round had been ejected and with the pieces all attached in the correct places, a single button press transformed his trusty rifle, expanding it outwards, fitting the new pieces in, creating a vastly larger and longer barrel. A savage smile on his face that perhaps the late Saxton Hale would have approved of, Jack loaded the anti-tank round.
Shifting the large weapon into position, the anti-tank rifle was ready. In truth, this weapon was more reliant on the extra components attached to it than his rifle, but something about having this huge weapon of destruction still controlled by his familiar trigger felt right to the Sniper.
Still, it required some concentration and time to properly line up the shot, especially from this range. Looking at his scope, he tried to determine which target to take out. It was then that he noticed the tank that hadn't fired yet seemed to be getting bolder, starting to swivel its cannon into position. Scout had driven his pursuers all around the base's outdoors region and as such had actually been heading somewhat in Jack's direction earlier.
As such, the cannon was swivelling in such a fashion that in order to aim at the Scout it'd have to pass by the Sniper's line of sight first.
It was a risky shot, in was doubtful even he could pull it off but some instinct was screaming at him to do it. He couldn't do enough damage to the tank with his rounds to prevent it from firing with only one shot. Not unless he took this chance.
Sweat beaded down his forehead as he watched the cannon rotate through his scope, slowly, slowly...
He adjusted his aim and fired.
The anti-tank round screamed through the air, arcing and knocked by the winds, but somehow, incredibly, found it's mark and flew straight through the barrel, tearing it apart and impacting the shell about to be fired.
The explosion was significant.
"That good enough for ya, mate?"
###
Gabriel was somewhat taken aback. Firstly because the Scout had been stupid enough to get into this mess, secondly that he'd managed to procure a vehicle in the first place, thirdly that he'd decided to head straight for the Spy without dealing with the enemy first and finally that one of the tanks had just exploded with no warning and just the Sniper's sarcastic question as an explanation.
As the sleek motorcycle skidded to halt by the Spy however, he was taken aback again.
"Quick, get in the sidecar!"
"...you want me to what!?"
The sound of an approaching SUV and the distant roar of the remaining tank's treads quickly forced the Frenchman to enter the sidecar and lower the canopy. He had to admit, whilst not his tastes, the main body of the motorcycle did have some style with its sleek reinforced design, even with the bullet holes in it. The sidecar however...well, it was embarrassing but the canopy did mean better protection and there appeared to be some sort of semi-rotatable turret gun installed.
Then again, this was Kevin driving and as such, he was probably going to die anyway.
Without another word, the bike screamed into motion, the acceleration pushing Gabriel back even as he grasped onto the turret and returned fire at the SUV. Whilst clearly not designed as anti-armour rounds, the turret did seem to be doing some damage to the light armour of the military vehicle, forcing them to back off for a moment. He didn't let up his fire though, continuing to rain down fire on them with surprisingly good aim, eventually tearing through one of the doors completely, exposing a sizeable hole.
Apparently this was what the Scout had been waiting for.
###
This was what Kevin had been waiting for.
Activating the turbo for the first time, a mighty roar echoed across the base as the wind rushed by with insane acceleration, allowing them to speed past the lighter recon vehicle. Despite his shock, Gabriel still managed to fire in roughly the right direction before they were past it again, the Scout gripping tightly as he power-slided around and shot back at the SUV, final grenade in one hand.
They were going too fast, the engine was starting to overheat and he had to cancel the turbo and ease off on the gas, but it was enough. Enough to speed up to the SUV before they could get any decent shots at them and just slow enough that the Scout was able to toss the grenade into the sizeable hole the Spy had made.
A somewhat gentler turn was made as they evaded machine gun fire from the inhabitants of the recon vehicle, Kevin not bothering to look back as the inside of SUV exploded, scattering chunks across the asphalt, some of which had the luck to strike the pursuing recon vehicle.
Another boom tore through the air as the Sniper launched his second anti-tank round into the remaining tank, punching it clean through the centre. Neither the recon vehicle nor the tank were down for the count, but that'd soon change.
They were still being pursued, the scrap had made some holes in the vehicle's side and their windscreen had broken, by they were still chasing them and seemed to very slowly be gaining on them. Perhaps temporarily overheating the engine a little bit hadn't been the best of ideas; he was having to be careful with the gas to avoid breaking it down altogether. Still, as the bike set a course directly for the tank, and Scout spammed some bullets behind him, an idea formed.
"Spy, got any smoke grenades left? Sniper, think you can bust apart the front of that tank?"
###
Another smile graced Jack's lips as he saw Kevin's plan. Both teammates replied in the affirmative and the Australian set about reloading and lining up the next shot. This was going to be good.
Sure enough, the tank was still trying to recover from the earlier shot and was in no state to do anything about the rapidly approaching vehicles. Spy continued to lay down suppressive fire to prevent the recon vehicle getting too close before finally opening the canopy whilst in motion and throwing a smoke grenade into the vehicle through the open windscreen. Having reached maximum speed, now dangerously close to the tank and blinded the results were only too clear.
The bike skidded out of the way of the tank and Scout risked applying full gas and turbo once more briefly just to get out of the way as Sniper's trigger finger itched. Not yet...not yet...
"Now!"
A deafening boom and the last anti-tank round was sent spiralling through the air. Time seemed to slow as Jack tracked the final collision of all three objects with his scope. In the very instant that the recon vehicle collided with the tank and started to crumple, the round penetrated through the front cross-section of the tank completely, the aftershock tearing the barrel off and ripping through tank and vehicle alike.
There was no dramatic incendiary explosion, but there didn't need to be, the destruction of both, the pieces in the air, the assured death of all within both vehicles...a perfectly executed plan designed by the Scout of all people...
There were no other words for it, it was simply magnificent.
...what was slightly less magnificent however, was riding home on the back of that motorbike, supplies and rifle on his back, forced to hold onto Kevin for support whilst Gabriel bloody snickered away in his sidecar like the snake that he was. Many gay jokes were made and it was amazing the three mercenaries didn't crash at all from all the in-fighting going on whilst travelling down roads far exceeding the speed limit.
The trip back home was not pleasant.
###
A single operation, an act of revenge against the Administrator, an evening of the odds.
Three teammates, forever squabbling, bond over a suicide mission that by all logic should have failed miserably.
A new hope rides in the stolen materials and ruined structures of that wrecked facility.
Strikeback operation one out of three: complete.