A/N Whelp, here we are with another chapter. We're starting to move in on the end of the story. Probably another four or five chapters left. I wanted to make up for the filler chapter I wrote before so I made sure that this one was chocked full of action and shit. Please tell me that someone gets the reference in the Chapter title. I was trying to be clever…
Chapter 6: Escape from Nanaimo…
Krista was in a panic. Jack had disappeared right out from under their noses. By the time they realized that they had lost comms with him she had had the satellite pointed at a different area of the city. In the time it took for the command to realign to reach the orbiting satellite and for it to fire its maneuvering thrusters to point at his last known location with sufficient detail, he was already long gone. His armour lacked any kind of transponder so there was no way to track him and Anni reported that she had lost the feed from his helmet cam when he took it off. In short, they had lost him and Krista had no idea how they were going to find him again.
She had finally had to call Team 2 back in. They had spent another two hours searching for him but with the sun going down it was simply too dangerous even for them. The satellites she had hacked into and taken over weren't military and therefore weren't capable of nighttime surveillance. If they stayed out there they would be completely blind.
All they could do now was wait till morning, and hope.
It didn't take long for Natasha to realize she was pretty much up shit creek. She wasn't entirely certain what just happened but she knew it couldn't be good. Reaching up to her face she felt wetness and stinging pain. Other than that she didn't really know much.
Looking down at the fingers that had probed her face she found them covered in blood. She looked around her at the inside of the blown out truck and suddenly everything came rushing back. She had taken a five-man team into a known Riker stronghold to rescue a bunch of girls they had taken as sex slaves. The girls had been fine, as fine as they could be in their situation. It was when they were clearing the last of the rooms of the blown out senior's hospital that they found him tied up and being beaten to death by the local boss and a random flunkie. She hadn't been that surprised that they hadn't been heard coming considering the age of the building. Thick walls tended to keep sound from penetrating. The two hostiles had gone down almost immediately before she entered the room behind her men and found him.
He was one of those "Division" Agents, she was sure of it. It was a nickname that had just kind of sprung up for the shadowy group of people. The running theory was that they were government agents sent in to attempt to keep some semblance of order. No one knew who they really were. In the interest of the safety of her people she had ordered that no contact was to be made.
That didn't really help her right now as she took stock of where she was and what had happened. Her truck was fucked, that much she knew, which was a pity really because it was a nice truck. 2016 Ford F150, the damn thing was comfortable. It really was too bad that the whole front end was a mass of twisted metal. Looking to her right she saw that her co-driver was dead. Shrapnel caught her under the chin.
The Rikers had a tendency to set up IEDs in the hopes of… honestly she had no idea why they set them up. There was never a rhyme or reason to them. She guessed one of them just liked blowing things up. One thing about them was fairly consistent however. If there was a bomb set up, then sooner rather than later Rikers would show up.
Her thoughts were proven prophetic not thirty seconds later when she saw two masked faces pop out from behind a building and start walking toward her destroyed vehicle. She didn't quite trust her legs yet and drew her sidearm while still sitting in the driver's seat. She usually got teased for the big hand-cannon she pulled out of her thigh holster but right now she didn't care. She lined up the sights on the Colt King Kobra .357 and fired. The first magnum round hit the Riker in the middle of the chest. It was like seeing it in a movie. His torso flew back and his arms and legs followed as he fell to the ground. The second round missed when she aimed at his partner which ended up costing her a bullet in the arm. Mother FUCKERS! She fired again and this time hit him in the stomach. Good enough she thought as she hauled herself out of the ruined driver's seat and limped over to the two prone figures. As she approached she saw that neither of them were actually dead. The first one was unconscious but breathing. Either way he'd be dead soon. The second one however was very much alive and screaming. Begging actually.
"No! No! PLEASE! –" BANG!
Bitch.
The second one was much quieter as she finished him off with an identical bullet in the eye. She felt absolutely no sympathy for the gang bangers as she limped back over to the truck and nursed the bullet in her arm. She flipped the chamber open on the heavy revolver and dumped out the empty casings. She actually kind of enjoyed the sound the shells made when they hit her boot. Pulling a speed loader from her sweater pocket she reloaded the gun, spun the chamber and with a flick of her wrist, returned it back into place. Sliding the gun back into the holster along her right thigh, she walked around to the bed of the truck to see if her passenger was even still alive.
He was still there. Still alive, shivering, and… actually…. kind of cute, if she was being honest. But she needed him awake. They had a long way to go and every likely hood that they would be dead by morning. It was time to conduct a medical experiment. You know, for science. Dropping the tailgate, she full armed slapped him across the face. She never was one for subtlety.
"Ow what the fuck!"
It would appear that he was conscious. Hooray for the future of combat medicine. Soldier is unconscious? No problem! Bitch slap them awake! I'm going into shock she thought as she giggled to herself quietly as the man sat upright. Generally, her thoughts weren't all over the place like this. His face wasn't as swollen as it was before. He was still shirtless though. She leaned in closer to get a good look at him and see if he was capable of keeping up.
Jack hurt. Pure and simple. He had the mother of all headaches, his eye was throbbing, and he was damn cold. Looking down he realized he was now sitting in the bed of a truck wearing nothing more than the bottom half of his bodysuit. Shit somewhere out there one of those gang members has a set of TITAN 2 THAT was going to be a bitch to deal with. He was pretty sure the only thing they had that would penetrate it was a fifty.
Suddenly a face filling his vision brought him back to the present. And what a face it was. Tanned skin with a slight olive complexion, brown eyes that could just suck you in, defined eyebrows and full lips. She had long dark curly hair that was pulled back into a pony tail and was wearing a dark blue hoodie underneath a plate carrier. Knees pads over pale blue slim fit jeans, thigh holster holding a 357 magnum, and hiking boots completed her ensemble. She was gorgeous and unless he was mistaken she was the woman he had seen through the satellite feeds earlier that morning.
He was suddenly aware that she was scowling at him and speaking.
"Hey! Dumbass! You alright?" yep definitely scowling. He had to clear his throat before he was able to reply.
"Yeah, yeah I'm good to go. Feel like death but I can walk, even run if I absolutely have to." The scowl only lessened slightly when he spoke.
"Well good cause we're gonna have to. It's almost dark and I'm willing to bet that you Division agents have no idea how bad it gets here at night. There's a store nearby where you can get clothes and gear. Strip the weapons and plates off the body in the passenger seat. She won't be needing them anymore."
Jack had to take a moment to absorb this strange woman. After four months of being in charge, he wasn't used to taking orders anymore. And what the hell was a Division Agent? But regardless she had saved him so he was willing to follow her lead for now. He was distinctly aware of every bruise and broken rib as he climbed out of the truck. Walking around to the cab he was sad to see the woman sitting there. Her helmet had fallen low over her eyes obscuring her face but there was nothing obscuring the six inches of steel sticking out of her throat or blood covering the entire front of her body.
As bad as Jack felt for doing this he had no choice as he opened up her vest and pulled out the ceramic plates she was wearing. The vest itself was ruined, shrapnel had torn it apart but the plates were still good and extremely hard to find if you didn't have his resources. Which at that particular moment, he did not. Her weapons were another surprise. While his mysterious savior was pulling a C7 out of the driver's side of the truck and inspecting it for damage, the other woman had an M1A rifle. It was semiautomatic and the civilian model of the M14 Battle rifle. Identical to it in every way with the exception of the fire selector that would allow the rifle to be fired on full automatic, it essentially was the M14 which was the standard issue rifle to the USMC from 1965 to 1970 before being replaced by the M16. Put simply, it was heavy as hell, but it was a damn good rifle.
Racking back the action he chambered a round and then checked her vest for spare mags. He pulled five mags off of her only to discover that only three of them were still full. He also found a large pouch full of shotgun shells which inspired him to look around the truck. Underneath the body's feet he found a short barrel Remington 870 Tactical shotgun with a pistol grip and no stock. It was held in what appeared to be a specially made holster that was meant to attach to the MOLLE on a plate carrier. It was clearly designed with one purpose in mind. This was a breaching gun pure and simple.
A further inspection revealed a Glock 22 with five full mags in a vest holster which completed his new load out.
So rifle in hand, and all the extra ammo, sidearm, shotgun, and plates placed in a messenger bag he found in the backseat of the truck he walked around still shirtless and freezing cold to his new companion. The top half of his body suit had been cut off by his kidnappers so all he was wearing was essentially a pair of under armour pants that didn't want to stay up. It may have been mid-May but it still got cold at night on the island especially if it had been raining all day and still was.
"Got everything?" were the only words she spoke when he walked up next to the woman who had saved him. At his nod she said
"Good like I said there's a store around the corner that will have gear and clothing. I don't think it's been raided yet surprisingly. Somehow I get the feeling you don't particularly want to be flashing your dick to half the Rikers in Nanaimo."
There it was again. Yet another name he had never heard before. He decided to break his silence in order to attain some answers.
"What are Rikers? And you mentioned a Division earlier? What's that?"
"I'll explain once were off the street." That made sense enough to Jack so he followed along in silence with his weapon raised. They continued along the street with Jack being extremely careful where he stepped. His body suit had rubber soles true but that was only meant to provide traction on slick floors. It was never designed for outdoor use. His feet were numb from the cold and pain and he was practically holding his rifle up with one arm while the other was used to keep his "pants" from falling down around his ankles and tripping him up. He wasn't entirely certain what he thought about this new woman. She was beautiful obviously and abrasive, which he kind of liked about her but it was too early to tell if she was actually skilled at what she did or if she was about to get the both of them killed around the next corner.
The next corner did not end up bringing their deaths. What it did end up bringing however, was what appeared to be some kind of army surplus/ airsoft store. The sign had been blown off so he couldn't tell what it was called but after stepping in he had to blink to be able to make sense of everything he was seeing.
Calling the store an eclectic mix would be an understatement. Jack will say one thing for it, everything in the store was related to either military gear or outdoor survival. One rack would have surplus uniforms from various countries, another would be novelty patches, next to a rack of high quality out-door clothing.
Near the back was where he found the things he was looking for. Mixed in with all the knock off airsoft gear was the odd legitimate plate carrier or real Kevlar helmet. Where the store had gotten them he had no idea as Kevlar helmets were highly restricted in Canada. The first thing he grabbed were a pair of boxers on a nearby shelf. They were supposed to be some kind of moisture wicking material but he really didn't care as long as he had something to cover his junk. Next were a pair of wool socks and acid washed jeans that were in his size. As he walked toward the change room he also grabbed a tan t-shirt and a plain leather belt. Stepping into the nearby change room he stripped off the last remnants of his bodysuit and started dressing in his liberated clothing.
"So my name is Jack, Jack Hawkins what's your name?" For some reason he wasn't expecting her to actually answer him so he was rather surprised when she did.
"Natasha Blake. Nice to meet you Jack."
"So you mentioned something called Rikers? And the Division? What are those?"
She was quick to answer as he pulled the jeans up and buckled his belt.
"The first wave of American prisoners to be dropped off was primarily from Rikers Island in New York City. So the nickname kind of stuck."
Jack nodded and then realized she couldn't see him and said
"That makes sense I suppose. So what about the division?"
By now he had pulled the t-shirt over his head and stepped out of the change room. He had to suppress a grin as he watched her obviously giving him a once over and trying not be caught doing so.
"The uh… the Division is you guys I suppose. You guys in the armour. We were aware of you of course but we had no idea who you were. I think last I heard the pool was up to $700. The front running theory is that you're a secret government division sent in to establish order. So I suppose you can understand my curiosity when I ask you who you are?"
That set Jack back. He thought about it as he browsed the shelves for a decent pair of boots. Who were they? Saying that they were Canadian forces wasn't exactly the most accurate answer anymore. Sure all the combat teams were military. But if anything, they had gone rogue. He pulled a pair of desert tan Oakley boots off the shelf as he formulated his answer.
"The truth is I'm not even sure anymore. We started off as a group of people just trying to stay alive. We were all military to start with. All Canadian Forces. We picked up a couple of others on the way. My full name is Jonathan Hawkings. I'm the CEO and founder of TAC-6 Industries."
THAT got her attention.
"TAC-6? I read a report on you a year or two ago it sat on my desk for a couple of weeks before I picked it up. They say your some kind of genius. You started your company when you were just a kid."
Getting the boots tied up and the jeans tucked back over top of them Jack stood up to try them out. Damn they were comfy. Moving on he grabbed a pair of knee pads off of a wall.
"Yeah well because of all that I had a house just outside of the city, including a bunch of TITAN II prototypes, that's the armour by the way, that would be more than enough to ensure our safety. But then we got there and I got a look at everything that was happening and at all the resources inside my house and I just knew that I couldn't sit back and do nothing." As he was walking towards where the more authentic tactical gear was stored something caught his eye. It was a small spinner rack filled with Velcro patches. The kind that airsoft players would use for a team emblem.
The one in particular that caught his eye was larger and meant to go on the shoulder. It was flat black with a stylized white eagle displayed superimposed over a hollow orange circle. Written above it were the letters SHD. He assumed it was from some videogame or novel. What he liked about it was the Latin motto written underneath "Extremis Malis Extrema Remedia" Translated literally it meant "Extreme Remedies for Extreme Evils" Jack had the feeling however that it was actually referring to the more situationally appropriate Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Chuckling to himself he grabbed it off the rack. Hell even the SHD works. Strategic Homeland Division. It's as good a name as any I suppose. Still chuckling he tossed the patch to Natasha.
"There you go we have a name. The Strategic Homeland Division." He left her there examining the patch as he walked up and smashed the glass display case holding the authentic items.
Reaching in he pulled out a desert tan Kevlar lined plate carrier. He was about to turn around when he spotted a dusty box tucked into the back corner. Pulling it out and opening it up he saw that it was a Leupold Close Quarter Battle Sniper Scope or CQBSS. While he could easily fire accurately without a sight on it, he would rather be able to shoot the M1A with a proper scope for accuracies sake. It would take a couple rounds to zero but he was fairly confident he could zero it quickly enough that it wouldn't give away their position. Walking back to where he had dropped the gear, he stopped at a rack of jackets. Looking through them he selected a black Condor Summit. It was slim, waterproof, and warm. And if he was being honest with himself it had Velcro patches on the shoulder that would allow him to wear his new patch. He reached the messenger bag and pulled out the ceramic ballistic plates and slid them into his new vest. He put the vest on over his t-shirt leaving the jacket to go on over top so he could take it off if it got warmer. He'd just leave it open. The mags for the Glock fit perfectly and there was enough MOLLE on the vest to comfortably hold a large amount of the shotgun shells. What surprised him the most however, was that the mags for the big 7.62 rounds fit almost perfectly. Luck of the draw I guess he thought to himself as he slid the big rifle mags into the pouches. Seeing the Glock reminded him to head back over to the tactical gear. He found a good rigid duty belt and a tan SERPA thigh holster that would fit the pistol perfectly. Strapping on the holster and sliding the Glock into place along with two spare mags he grabbed a nearby pair of Blackhawk! hard-knuckle gloves in black and a comfortable looking Black wool toque. With his last additions he was ready to go.
He was about to pick up his weapons and head towards the door when he looked over at Natasha nursing her arm. He hadn't noticed before due to his own discomfort and the dark colour of her sweater but it was soaked in blood.
"Shit let me see your arm."
She pulled away when he took her arm in his hands and said
"Leave it I'm fine. There's more important things to worry about."
"Bullshit your fine you look like you've lost about a half liter of blood! Now sit down, shut up, and let me take a look at this."
She gave him her best glare but unlike Trish, she didn't have the mystical powers of the Bene Gesserit and could hold no sway over him. He sat her down on a nearby bench and had her remove her plate carrier and sweater. She was wearing a simple tank top underneath and he had to focus very hard on examining her injury. Christ, she may not have the same glare, but this girl puts Trish to shame in other areas.
It didn't look bad, it was a through and through and missed the bone. She'd heal just fine. Right now the only concern was blood loss as the sweater had helped in clotting and it was now bleeding freely.
"There's a small med kit in the messenger bag." Jack looked up to see her pointing behind him towards the bag that he had carried with him from the truck. He jogged over to it and as he picked it up the weight of the extra ammo and whatever else had already been inside it caused it's already damaged straps to give way.
"Fuck" he exclaimed as it contents poured out over the floor. Something strange caught his eye as it bounced away among the ammo, food, and medical supplies. It was a small USB flash drive, rather conspicuous among the larger items. He ignored it for now and picked up the medical gauze along with a water bottle. Looking around he realized there was nothing to cut the gauze with. Sighing he walked over to another display case and smashed the glass pulling out a large combat knife. It was a Gerber LMF II Infantry Fighting knife. Rather overkill for cutting gauze but fuck it, it was the first one he grabbed and it was a nice knife. Attaching the knife sheathe to the front of his vest upside down, he walked back over to his bleeding patient and used the bottled water to rinse off the area around the wound. Putting pressure on it, he ignored he sharp intake of breath as he applied a gauze pad to both sides. With the large gauze bandage he began wrapping her arm firmly. A thought crossed his mind and he chuckled.
"What's so funny?" He looked at her and was surprised not to hear the tone of scorn and contempt he had grown used to hearing from her. Her voice sounded… softer if anything as she looked looked up at him. He finished wrapping her arm and tied it off, using his new knife to slice off the excess and rewrapping it.
"Nothing really I was just laughing at the role reversal. In most action movies you see it's the female love interest bandaging up the wounded hero before he goes to fight in the movies big finish. I just thought the reversal was kind of funny."
She fidgeting for a moment and cocked her head to the side.
"Isn't that usually followed by a dramatic love scene?"
"Usually I suppose"
"Yeah well that aint happening this time so keep it in your pants buddy"
He knew he shouldn't say it, he knew it was a really bad idea but she practically served it up to him on a silver platter. Looking down at her unintentionally generous cleavage, he said
"Sure but that means you have to keep yours in your shirt too"
Three minutes later he had effectively come to the conclusion that saying that was indeed a horrible idea as he picked himself up off the floor. Who knew she was a master of the "nut tap". That fucking hurt. He never noticed he blush and grin as she pulled the neck of her shirt back up from the dangerously low angle the vest had pushed it to.
After they had cleaned up and Jack had found a replacement for the ruined messenger bag, a grey Propper sling bag that went diagonally over one shoulder, he attached the shotgun holster to the bag in way that he could switch between his two weapons relatively quickly. They were about to head out the door when Natasha stopped him with an arm on his shoulder.
"When you were moving all the stuff from the messenger back into that one, did you see a USB stick laying on the ground?"
Reaching into his pocket Jack pulled out the USB Stick in question and held it up. Her relief was palpable.
"What's on this thing anyway?"
"Evidence, videos and documents that will show the world how bad it is here" she said as she took the stick from him and slid it into her pocket.
With that said and all their gear together they stepped out into the quickly darkening night. It had stopped raining, thank God for small miracles, but it was still quite damp and cold out, especially so given the time of year. Natasha knew where they were going but she wasn't talking so Jack was content to follow her lead. He had a full mag and a freshly zeroed marksman rifle after taking a quick break to sight it in on a billboard 100 meters away. He was content.
Apparently that was his first mistake.
While everyone in the house was fitfully and unsuccessfully trying to sleep Anni was managing three separate subroutines all running different algorithms in an attempt to locate her creator. So far she had been able to track where he had been taken. It was an old condemned care home that had been set for demolition before The Purge and now served as a stronghold for one of the larger prison gangs in that district of the city. The problem was that when she directed the satellite view that way, the building was in ruins. There were bodies everywhere and no sign of life whatsoever. A few blocks away she found a freshly destroyed Pick-up truck and two figures moving away from it. It was difficult to see due to the cloud cover but she got lucky with a small patch of clear sky. Running a quick identification program, she determined that there was an 85.678% probability that was indeed Jack and an unknown woman moving further into the city. She knew that waking everybody up would be pointless. In an hour all she would see through the satellites were what the odd fire allowed her to see.
There was however something she could do. It would take an hour and a half for any of the teams to reach him in the morning. That being said, Jack's new vehicle was set to be airdropped in that morning. All she would have to do is send the pilot new drop coordinates and she would be able to send Jack some heavily armed support.
Looking through the city for a likely drop zone she factored in clearance, Jack's relative distance, and concentration of enemy forces in that area. She finally selected a public park 13km away from his current position and sent the new coordinates to the pilot who was already en-route from Edmonton.
Now all she had to do was get a message to him.
She found him in the failing light coming out of a building having resupplied and beginning to head north. Scanning ahead of him she saw a construction zone coming up. And where there were construction zones, there were often programmable signs. A quick scan of the electrical signals found that there were several in the area. She just had to reroute power to that particular area. Flicking a virtual lock of hair out of her face she set to work.
Jack and Tasha, as he had started calling her much to her dismay, had been walking for about twenty minutes without incident. He knew it was too much to hope that it would continue on that way for much longer. They were approaching a construction site when all of a sudden, every street lamp and traffic light in a four block radius came to life after being dormant for four months.
"That's not good." Tash mumbled under breath. She checked the chamber on her C7 and ensured that her mag was properly fitted as she scanned the area around her.
"I've got a pretty good idea of who's responsible for that." Jack declared. It was true. He recognized Anni's handiwork. He knew it had to be her too. Krista was good but this was a whole new level.
"Well whoever it is, is going to get us fucking killed." The vehemence in Natasha's voice surprised him. Sure they had lost the cover that the darkness provided them but so had the Rikers.
"I wouldn't say it's that bad. Besides it's kind of nice having it look like a real functioning city again. Look, this street barely has any bodies on it."
"Of course you wouldn't know, how the fuck could you know? You spend your nights locked up in whatever fortress you keep all your toys in. You've never had to survive out here. Our only advantage was that the route we were going to take was out of the way and unlikely to have anyone on it. Now with the whole area lit up like a fucked up Christmas tree, Rikers and who knows what are going to be flocking here."
Jack had nothing to say to her explanation. It was true that he didn't really know how bad it got out here. His people were only scratching the surface of what they could be doing. But now wasn't the time to be worrying about that. First they had to worry about getting out of there alive. As they pressed onwards, being much more careful now, Jack noticed up ahead that one of the traffic signs was flashing.
As they drew closer he realized what it was that he was seeing. It was an address, being scrolled endlessly across the screen. After a moment of watching the address the words "Fire Flare 06:30" replaced what was previously on the screen.
"What the hell is that all about?" Jack hadn't noticed that Natasha had moved up beside him.
"That's one of my tech people giving us the time and coordinates for our extraction." He waved his arms above his head so that the satellite could pick it up, and the message disappeared. It had to be Anni. Krista wasn't capable of this.
"How the hell could they possibly know where we are?" She had started to look more and more nervous the longer time went on and the longer they remained exposed.
"As best as I can tell they used satellite tracking and an estimation based on our direction."
"So they guessed?"
"They guessed."
"Lovely"
They continued on from there albeit with a slightly quicker pace than they had used before. Neither one of them was eager to get caught out in the open when people came to investigate the lights. Natasha had immediately deferred to Jack given that it was his people that were providing the extraction.
They had been walking for another five minutes and thought they were in the clear when they turned a corner and Jack felt like he had been punched in the gut.
Up ahead was a squad of eight to ten soldiers. Soldier was the best description for them but they were definitely not Canadian or even American forces. With the exception of their pants which were an urban A-TACS pattern they were dressed in unrelieved black. Tactical jackets, plate carriers, Ops Core FAST helmets and ski masks were all black. Even their gloves which were a hard knuckle style similar to Jack's were black. They carried AR-15's with the American ACOG scope attached and each seemed to be carrying a combat load of ten mags low on their vests. Combined with the FNX-45 Pistols they all had strapped to their thighs they were heavily armed. Much too heavily for Jack to want to try engaging with. For now, they were all crowded around what appeared to be a fresh body on the ground and hadn't noticed them yet. Jack wanted to keep it that way and began backing around the corner they had just rounded very slowly. Unfortunately, his boot hit a beer bottle that had been laying nearby on the ground which bounced and rolled away with a loud tink tink.
As one all ten masked faces snapped up to where they were standing like deer in the headlights. The nearest commando snapped his weapon up as a voice shouted
"There's two more! Get those JTF Fuckers!"
Jack didn't stick around to find out who the hell the JTF was as he whipped around the corner just before two shots rang out. He flinched back as shards of brick blew off right where his head was. He flipped the safety off of his rifle and leaned out to pop off a shot at their attackers. Another explosion of brick dust convinced him that it was currently a bad idea to poke his head out.
"We need to fall back to a better position!" He had to yell over the sound of gunfire for Natasha to hear him even though she stood less than two feet away. Scanning down the street they had just come from she pointed to a blown out car thirty meters away.
"That ought to do it! Think we can make it?"
"Only one way to find out!" Jack yelled as he popped off two quick shots around the corner without looking and tore off for the car, Tash hot on his heels. They covered the thirty meters in roughly ten seconds and had slid over the hood and lined up their shots in another three seconds.
He was expecting them to come around the corner, or at least to take cover and sight down the street. What he was NOT expecting however was an arm to whip around and toss something that looked like an undersized dark coloured tennis ball into the middle of the road. It wasn't until he saw the spoon fly off while it was in the air that he realized what it was.
"GRENADE GET DOWN!" He suited action to words as he grabbed Tash by the back of the neck and pulled her down behind the car with him. The M67 grenade went off with a sound like a thunderclap, blowing out the windows of the car they were hiding behind and leaving both of their ears ringing. Luckily they were protected from any shrapnel due to the distance and the fact that they had taken cover in time. Jack popped up and sighted just in time to see one of the commandos in his crosshairs. He fired hitting the man center of mass. He dropped like a sack of shit and Jack waited patiently for another target. He received his third surprise in as many minutes as instead of being dead the commando on the ground aimed his rifle from his position flat on his back and began firing. Jack once again had to duck down as rounds started flying near his head.
Something that not a lot of people know about bullets is that there is nothing, absolutely nothing that sounds quite like a round passing near your head at close range. Once again Hollywood didn't seem to understand and therefore no one else did. Most bullets are supersonic, and just like everything else that has mass and breaks the sound barrier, it has its own sonic boom. However, since the round is so small, it's more like an extremely loud snapping noise. That's what Jack was hearing as he tried to understand why that particular commando wasn't dead.
SNAP! SNAPSNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
He couldn't understand it. SNAP! A round of that size should have punched through any armour they were SNAP! wearing.He leaned out during a lull in the fire to see the man getting to his feet and put one of the heavy rifle rounds through his left temple. That put him down.
Unless…
"Those MOTHER FUCKERS are wearing my armour!" That was the only explanation he could come up with as he fired at another of the commandos when they ran across the street to a nearby dumpster. They were starting to set up decent firing positions and that was starting to worry Jack. If these were Rikers they would already be dead. These men were highly trained and good at keeping Jack and Tasha's heads down as they maneuvered.
"What? No their not they're not! They're wearing plate carriers." This came from Tash as she was kneeling at the other end of the car returning fire.
"No not that armour!" Jack was glad of that. He knew they'd be fucked if these guys were wearing a set of TITAN II
"I'm talking about the SKORPIAN vest. Only thing I know of that will stop a rifle round in its tracks like that. Hit em in the head! Center of mass is just going to bounce off of these assholes!" Jack once again suited action words and put a round through one of the commando's right eye. The large spray of blood and brain matter against the wall behind the man told him that he had hit his target. After that few words were spoken between the two of them as they continued to trade fire with the new enemy. By his estimate between him and Tasha there were only four left. He dropped the now empty magazine out of the rifle, put it back in his vest, and replaced it with a fresh twenty round mag. Reaching over the top of the rifle with his left hand he pulled back on the cocking lever and released it, unlocking the bolt catch and allowing it to slam forward and chamber the next round.
"Looks like we might actually survive this one" he muttered to himself.
Just as he finished saying that, the sound of an engine made itself apparent just before a black suburban pulled up from around the corner in front of them. Its doors popped open and three more black masked commandos jumped out. That wasn't the worst part however as standing up through a hatch in the roof was another commando manning a weapon that Jack had not expected to see in this city.
It was a weapon that had been feared in it's various forms for over a century. Since it's birth in the American Civil War, through the Vietnam war and up to today. It had evolved and changed so many times over the years that it was nearly unrecognisable from it's hand-cranked ancestor that had defeated the South. From having its massive cousins mounted on planes, even having an entire plane designed around it, to it's smaller version used as helicopter door guns, it was a weapon that had turned the tide of battles since it's invention. There was even a version that was designed to be carried and operated by a single gunner. From movies to video games, It's six rotating barrels and iconic brrrrrrrrrt noise had cemented itself into the minds of soldiers and civilians alike.
Mounted on top of that truck was the US Army Designation M-134, more commonly known as the Dillion Minigun.
Just once he thought to himself Just fucking once I'd like to remember to keep my fucking mouth shut.
The six barrels of the modern gatling gun were beginning to spool up as he grabbed Tash by the vest and they booked it for the doorway next to them. Jack didn't even slow down as they approached the front door of the condo. He raised his rifle and fired three shots into the glass while he ran. Lowering his shoulder, he ran right through the weakened plate glass door, slamming into the wall behind it in a shower of broken glass and dust. Behind them the wall exploded as thousands of 7.62 rounds tore through it. He only took a moment to shake off the impact however as they heard the sound of the engine revving and the big SUV moving into position behind them. Once again grabbing Natasha by the arm, he took off for the stairs off to their right. Just as the gunner opened up on where they had been. Jack could hear the blood pounding in his ears as they dashed up the stairs taking the steps two at a time. He had no idea where they were going to go, he just knew that staying on the street right then was suicide. The sound of boots pounding after them in pursuit drove them on even faster. Christ he wished he had a grenade. Just one frag grenade would be enough to slow down their pursuers enough to give them a firing position.
Eventually they emerged on the roof of the building. Their boots skidded on the gravel as Jack whipped around and slammed the heavy door shut behind them. Natasha quickly shoved a length of rebar up against it to wedge it shut and they stepped back as the sound of bodies impacted the door from the other side.
"That's not going to hold them forever" Tasha said as she looked around. There was absolutely no cover to be seen other than the odd vent or air conditioner.
"We need to get off this roof" Jack said as he too looked around. Already he could see the door starting to give way to the boots and bodies slamming against it.
Running up to the edge of the building, Jack looked over to see the street almost a hundred feet below them. The Suburban was still down there. Running over to the other side he saw something through the failing light that looked promising. Roughly thirty feet below them was a shopping mall under renovations. What caught his interest however, was the dumpster filled with what looked like discarded asbestos insulation.
"Tash come here!" The door was now open enough to allow a leg to fit through if they tried.
"What? – No, not a fucking chance, what are you crazy? There's no way that I'm jumping thirty feet down, across an alley, into a dumpster"
Behind them the door slammed open as the now bent rebar fell away with a clang. Jack leveled his rifle and put a round through the head of the first man out the door. He fell back into his comrades slowing them down a second.
"Too late! GO!" He grabbed Natasha by the hand and ran off the edge of the building.
"Wha-? OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" was all he heard beyond the wind rushing past his head as he felt his stomach climb up into his chest and his legs and arms wind milled.
He closed his eyes right before impact only to feel his fall suddenly arrested by the Insulation in the dumpster. Half a second later Tash landed next to him. He had the wind knocked out of him by the impact, but he had survived. As he looked over to see if his companion was alright he was met by a fist straight to the jaw.
"You FUCKING ASSHOLE We could have been killed." She was fuming with a few stray strands of hair falling in front of her face.
"Could have. Key phrase there. We made it alright though didn't we?" She didn't respond as they began to climb out of the dumpster. Suddenly a shot rang out and impacted the wall of the dumpster right where his head had been a moment before. Looking up to the roof they had just jumped from he saw the commandos looking down at them.
"Do these shit stains ever take a day off?" Tash muttered as she raised her rifle and dropped one of them. They had managed to take cover on the far side of the dumpster as the commandos dropped to the prone along the roofs edge. This was bad. They had superior firepower, manpower, and a superior position. A sudden roar of rounds impacting the side of the heavy steel dumpster cut off Jack's train of thought as apparently, they also had a SAW. The M249 Squad Automatic Weapon was the American cousin of the C9 LMG. It was belt fed, air cooled, gas operated and really bad fucking news for Jack and Natasha.
The gun was screaming out it's battle cry in short bursts of BRAAAAAAT BRAAAAAT BRAAAAAAT. The short bursts and accurate fire confirmed in Jack's mind that these were men who knew what they were doing. They were pinned down, unable to even get a shot off without being filled with holes. He knew it was only a matter of time before the dumpster that had been their salvation up to this point gave way. The worst part was that only twenty or so meters away there was a door that led to a stairwell but with the amount of fire being poured in there was no way they would be able to reach it. He looked over at Natasha expecting to see the same defeat and resignation on her face but instead he saw her looking incredibly pissed off and pulling something from her vest.
It was, to Jack's surprise, a flashbang. The M84 Stun Grenade, generally used by police and military to disorient the occupants of a room before entering. It was considered less than lethal as it used a magnesium charge inside of an aluminum casing as opposed to the Comp B charge and steel casing of conventional fragmentation grenades. Jack had a foggy memory of hearing flashbangs when he was being rescued which explained where she had gotten it. At present Tasha was swearing under her breath as she pulled the pin. She released the spoon which triggered the fuse, held it for a second to "cook" the device and threw it over top of the dumpster. It exploded a moment later. Immediately after the explosion the incoming fire petered out to be replaced by yells and exclamations of pain. They took this as their opportunity to jump out from behind cover. Tash took a moment to turn around and put a bullet in the head of the SAW gunner before joining Jack in his mad dash to the stairwell. The stun grenade had been timed perfectly exploding right in the faces of their pursuers. It would be at least five seconds before any of them could see anything at all. Luckily for them, five seconds was all they needed.
They reached the door in four, only to find it locked. Quickly transitioning to the shotgun, Jack placed it where the deadbolt meets the door jam at a forty-five-degree angle and fired. He then turned around with his back to the door and kicked it in with the back of his right foot. Tash was through the door immediately after with Jack hot on her heels slamming it closed.
Two hours later saw them well away from the Commandos. They had decided to stay off the street, preferring to use alleys and building whenever they could. It was now fully dark and Jack was starting to understand what Tash had been saying about how dangerous the streets were at night. The chaos of the opening months hadn't really died out. It had just gone nocturnal. With the knowledge that Jack and his people only came out during the day had also come the wisdom to reserve all activities to the night.
Their walk through the night had been accompanied by the constant sound of weapons fire throughout the city. The next most common sound was screaming. Jack knew that some of the things he saw from alley ways and rooftops would haunt him for the rest of his life. At one point he saw three women standing around a man tied to a street lamp and stabbing him repeatedly. Another time he saw a bunch of nut jobs in firefighting gear with homemade flamethrowers torching an entire family. Mother, father, two kids, even a baby. They all burned as the men laughed through their masks. Jack put a round through one of their tanks causing it to explode and set fire to the "firemen". It didn't help that family but it made him feel better to watch the psychos burn. The streets were filled with horror scenes like this. They helped where they could but for the most part it was too late for anybody they came across. Throughout it all were the Rikers, gleefully shooting at anything that moved.
The one group that Jack was glad that they hadn't run into were the commandos from earlier. Natasha had explained that as best as her people could tell they were private military contractors from the Last Man Battalion. It was the same company that had been responsible for massacring an entire town in order to fake the outbreak. They were also the ones handling "Security" on the evac and viral screening ships. These assholes were sadistic. They had arrived a week earlier with enough vehicles and equipment to be set up for a long time. Jack was never more aware of how lacking their intelligence had been than at that exact moment. If they had missed not only a deployment of forces on that scale, but all the chaos that happened at night then God only knows what else had happened without them having any idea. She also explained what the comment about the "JTF assholes" had been about.
Natasha had been a Captain with Military Intelligence, before that she had been a combat engineer. She had served two tours in Afghanistan spending a considerable amount of time outside the wire running counter insurgency ops in Kandahar. During the evacuation she had, like him, been tasked with screening civilians for evacuation. The only difference was that where there had been him, Jess, and two others, She had had an entire companies worth of troops with her. She had screened everyone and was getting them ready to move when they were given the word that the trucks wouldn't be coming for them. They had been abandoned.
The next months were hectic as she lost more than half of her people and gained even more. There were soldiers, cops, nurses and doctors, they had merged to form what she had taken to calling the Joint Task Force. Apparently they were living and operating out of the city's waterworks. At least that was what Natasha called it. Better than saying that they lived in a sewer Jack supposed. The water treatment plant had been where she had been taking them so she said but Jack's evac site was much closer.
Eventually they ended up inside a half finished apartment building overlooking their evac site. They had scattered broken glass along both ends of the hallway in order to give them some early warning if they had unannounced visitors. It was still early being only three in the morning so Jack had proposed that they try and get some sleep.
Currently Jack had the first watch and was sitting up against a wall next to a large window looking down into the park. It was a bit further from the downtown core and therefore it was clear of the crazies. He looked down at the curly brown hair laying against his chest. Tash had fallen asleep sitting upright next to him but at some point had slumped over. He was about to push her back up when she nuzzled in closer and put her arms around him. She NUZZLED Natasha, badass dark haired Valkyrie, nuzzled. He tried not to laugh at the tendril of hair that had fallen in front of her mouth and would be sucked into her mouth as she inhaled only to be blown back out on the exhale. Looking down at her he was struck once again by how beautiful she was. Her usually hard features and constant scowl that was only broken up by the occasional sardonic smirk were absent in her sleep. She…softened, it was the only way that Jack could describe it. She gave off the impression of someone that needed to be defended, taken care of. He knew this wasn't true and that she'd probably hit him for suggesting it but right now, he allowed himself to live in the fantasy.
He stroked her hair as she slept until the beginnings of predawn light began to light up the horizon. Checking the glowing orange face of the watch that he had found, he saw that it was quarter to six. Time to get up.
The park was quiet when they went out. Which was almost enough to cause concern right then and there. If there was one thing that Jack had learned about this city was that it was never quiet. There was always gunfire somewhere. But right now as the predawn glow gave way to actual daylight, if not direct sunshine, the city was peaceful. You could almost forget that anything was wrong.
Jack stepped up into the centre of the clearing and pulling out the flare gun that they had removed from an outdoors supply store, and fired it into the air. They watched as the glowing red phosphorus flare shot high into the air and burned brightly falling slowly back to earth on it's parachute.
Watching the bright beacon, it occurred to Jack that not only had they signalled the plane that he could see coming in low on the cloudless horizon, but they had also just broadcasted their position to anyone who chose to look up. Chances were very good that they were about to have company. Lots of it.
Natasha seemed to be thinking along the same lines because just as he turned to suggest they find cover she was already readying her gear to move back to a more concealed position. They ended up picking a nearby stand of trees surrounded by heavy undergrowth. Once they got into position, Jack removed his pack and set it in front of him, using it as a support for his rifle. Once they were properly concealed they held absolutely still and waited for the airdrop.
They didn't have to wait long as almost five minutes later Jack was startled to see a large framed pallet land almost directly on top of where they had fired the flare from. He would have to make sure that the pilot and load master of that plane got a hefty bonus when they got out of here. Instead of getting up immediately they waited a moment as the three large parachutes settled around the vehicle.
Soon enough their waiting was rewarded as three Rikers came running around the corner. They were excited obviously having seen the vehicle dropped out of the plane and were enjoying the prospect of stealing it and riding around in the death machine.
Unfortunately for them one of Jack's 7.62x51mm NATO standard rifle rounds entering through the frontal lobe was enough to eliminate any plans the first ex con had for the vehicle permanently. The back of his head literally exploded from the shockwave of the round exiting his skull, spraying his companions with blood, bone, and brain matter. The second was dropped with a double tap from Natasha's C7. Jack took the last one out with a round placed centre of mass.
They didn't wait after that. As soon as the last target was dropped they lept to their feet. Jack grabbed his pack and swung the single strap over his head as they ran to their new vehicle.
The Chenowth Advanced Light Strike Vehicle was the successor to the old Scorpion Desert Patrol Vehicle. Essentially it was a Dune Buggy on steroids. Built for speed and maneuverability, It had a 160hp Porsche engine and could go from zero to fifty in four seconds. It's only main drawback was that it was literally just frame and chassis. It had no armour whatsoever except for a few plates Jack had asked to be installed around the engine. The version that Jack had ordered seated three though it was capable of also having a rear gunner. It was meant to have either a fifty caliber or a Mark 19 Grenade launcher in the main gunner position, located behind and above the driver and co driver, with a Light or general purpose machine gun in the passenger position. Jack however had asked for a specific layout that had a fifty in the gunners spot with a Mark 19 in the passenger seat.
They wasted no time admiring the deadly war machine as they began offloading it from it's shipping palette. Luckily it didn't appear to have suffered any damage as a result of it's lofty departure so they rolled it off the platform and checked to make sure the weapons were ready.
"Can you operate the Mark 19?" Jack asked as he walked around to the driver seat.
"God no. This is the first time I've ever seen one of these up close." She said with a bemused look on her face.
"Fine, you're driving" Jack said as he walked back around to the passenger side.
"I was hoping you would say that" Natasha said as she climbed into the driver seat. Jack climbed into the passenger seat and began loading the Mk19 from the ammo box mounted next to it.
If the M2 Browning fifty caliber was like a badass grandpa that could run you into the ground before kicking your ass, then the Mark 19 belt fed grenade launcher was his short, fat grandson that hit like a truck. It was similar in design to the Ma Deuce in that it possessed a spade grip and "butterfly trigger" for two handed firing as well as large side mounted cocking handles. However, where the Browning was long and narrow the Mk19 Was short and wide.
Jack loaded the belt into the feed tray and slammed the feed tray cover closed. Grasping the cocking handles on each side of the gun he cocked the bolt back, pressed the trigger to delink the round and then cocked it again. He was looking forward to using this gun.
Two minutes later saw them barreling down the empty road towards his house, Natasha following his directions as they flew around corners. The vehicle was a true joy to drive in. Out of nowhere a song that he hadn't heard in years popped into his head and Jack just couldn't help singing it under his breath.
"Well come on all of you big strong men, Uncle Sam needs your help again. He's got himself in a terrible jam, way down yonder in Vietnam. So put down your books and pick up a gun, we're gonna have a whole lot of fun."
It was an old song written to protest the Vietnam war and wasn't as popular as some of the ones written by CCR or Jefferson Airplane. It was definitely before both his and Natasha's time so he was fairly surprised when she joined him with the chorus.
"And it's one, two, three, what are we fighting for? Don't ask me I don't give a damn. Next stop is Vietnam. And it's five, six, seven, Open up the Pearly Gates. Well there aint not time to wonder why. Whoopee! We all gonna die!"
They shared a grin after the chorus and Jack was about to ask her where she had heard the song when an explosion of gunfire hit the ground right in front of them. Coming out of a side street ahead of them was their old friend, the suburban with the Minigun on top. Tash slammed the brakes on the dune buggy and threw it into reverse squealing the tires as she did so. Jack aimed the Mk19 at the big SUV ahead of them and fired three rounds at it. The big gun bellowed out with a WHOOMP WHOOMP WHOOMP sound. The recoil was intense and the rounds missed by an easy five meters.
"What the fuck?!" Jack yelled out at the weapon. As Tash continued to reverse the vehicle weaving from side to side to avoid the gun of the approaching SUV as she did so, Jack corrected his point of aim accounting for how far off the sights were and fired again. WHOOMP-CHUNK!
"FUCK!" He yelled as he tried cocking it again. The cocking handle stuck hallway through his pull. Opening up the top of the feed tray cover he felt the mechanism and checked his hand. It was bone dry. There was no fucking oil in it. Apparently his version of "Ship ready to fire" and theirs was very different. It was useless until they could stop and open it up to inspect it.
"Turn us around and get us the fuck out of here! I'm gonna climb back to the fifty!" he yelled as he climbed up out of his seat.
Tash used an upcoming turn as an opportunity to send the car into a full drift around the corner swinging the front end around until it was facing forward in a truly masterful display of driving. While she did that, Jack swung around the roll cage, momentarily hanging outside the vehicle to climb in behind the heavy machine gun. It wasn't anymore oiled than the Mk19 but luckily it wasn't as temperamental. It would last long enough to get the job done. He spun the gun around to face their rear as he loaded a hundred round belt into it. He cocked it once, advancing the belt into the gun and cocked it again to chamber a round. He got this completed just in time as the Suburban whipped around the corner behind them, the barrels on it's Minigun already spinning. It fired a burst with it's characteristic brrrrrrrrrt sound but because of the way Natasha was driving mixed with the rough condition of the road bouncing both vehicles, the rounds went wild. Jack fired as well hitting the hood and windshield but to his dismay the rounds bounced off the hood and merely cause a spider web of cracks to form in the armoured glass.
Jack continued to pour fire into the black suburban and a few rounds managed to penetrate the armour. Smoke was pouring out of the hood as it raced after them through the hair pin turns that Natasha was making. Jack knew that eventually he would be able to disable the up-armoured vehicle but it was far more likely that their luck would run out and both him and Natasha would wind up dead in a smoking heap of bullet riddled metal.
It looked like their time had run out when his gun ran out of ammo with a final sounding CHUNK! It almost seemed like Jack could see the other gunner grinning as he lined up a shot on the now defenseless vehicle.
Just at that particular moment the Minigun operator ceased to exist. That was the best description he had for watching the man and his gun disintegrate into a spray of blood and shattered metal. Immediately after the gunners magical disappearing act, the entire SUV was taken out as the heavenly sight of Jacks M12 Force Application Vehicle, coming out of a side street, slammed into it between the front and rear passenger doors. The force of the impact threw the entire vehicle onto it's side as it tossed the remainder of the gunner's body out of the top hatch. The Warthog however, was perfectly fine as were the two occupants who hopped out wearing full TITAN II armour. Tash had stopped the ALSV as soon as the Warthog crew gunned down the Suburban.
Climbing down from the gunner's position Jack walked over to the two figures who had removed their helmets to reveal Craig, grinning like a kid on Christmas, and Chris attempting to look stoic as the approached.
Grasping his hand Craig said "Damn it's good to see you man. Who's this?" he said indicating Natasha who had walked up next to Jack.
"Guys this is Natasha" Jack said as he gestured towards her "We should get back to the house. We have a lot to talk about"
A/N So there it is Chapter 6 Leave a review guys. Seriously. Or I'll find you.
Just Kidding
Or am I? . . .