Chapter Five: Tempered Indignation
"He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight."
The two Blue Suns' bodyguards assigned to Mitchell got into the sky car with the Turian they just took from the apartment. One of the bodyguards took the pilot's seat while Mitchell sat in the front passenger seat. Velpia was put into the back, sitting next to the other bodyguard. The car vibrated for a few seconds, and its engine sprung awake, took off the landing pad, and began speeding off.
Mitchell looked back through the mirror that lined the top portion of the windshield. He looked at her; her head pointed downwards. He could see the top of her head where her head ridge stopped.
"I'm disappointed in you, Velp." He said menacingly. "You owed Drake credits, and then you skipped town. It doesn't look very good."
Velpia lifted her head. "No, it wasn't like that." She frustratingly replied.
"Oh? Then how did it happen?" He looked at her, not believing her statement.
"I took out a loan to pay you and Drake, but the people I took the loan from took me... they sold me off to the Batarians."
Mitchell began to laugh. "Tsk, tsk, for as long as you have been on Omega, you should've known better than to take credits from slavers."
Velpia dropped her sight from the mirror. Embarrassed and angry at herself.
"So you never answered my question from earlier; who was that guy in your apartment?" He asked with genuine curiosity.
"No one you should be concerned with." She replied defiantly.
The bodyguard sitting next to Velpia butted in, speaking through his voice system in his helmet. "He must be a bird-lover" The two bodyguards laughed. "Quiet!" Mitchell demanded. "If Drake heard you say that, you'd be dead." The two quickly immediately stopped and focused.
The car was zipping through the station, and the hum and wind noise could be heard inside the cabin. She felt stupid for coming back but almost got someone else killed because of her actions. If Martin weren't there, she probably would have shot Mitchell on sight, but that may have made the situation worse.
After about thirty minutes of flying, they finally reached their destination on top of a large, tall warehouse building. Velpia was taken inside through a long series of dark catwalks and hallways down to the main floor. The area was wide open, with crates of various colors and sizes scattered about the place. She was taken by Mitchell to a desk where another Turian was sitting. "Mitchell, I see you found our missing songbird," Drake said, standing up from behind his desk. He stepped around and approached her.
"Where did you find her?"
Mitchell smiled, "We found her in her apartment." Drake shook his head with disappointment.
"She was also "accompanied" by a Human; she won't tell us who he was," Mitchell added.
"Oh, I see." Drake moved away from her and sat back down at his desk.
"Is he a danger? Did you kill him?" He leaned back in his chair, folded his claws, and rested them on his midsection.
"He was a weakling, a bit of a freak, but nothing to worry about."
Drake nodded and dismissed Mitchell leaving Velpia and Drake alone in the open. Even though she wasn't restrained, there were snipers everywhere.
"I am disappointed; you leave the Blue Suns after everything I've done for you; you try to go it alone. I gave you work, and you botched the mission, and we had to pay Aria for the damages you caused. Then we find out you ran off like a coward," He said while pointing his finger at her.
"I didn't run!' She tried to interject.
"It doesn't matter! My superiors want your head; I've done everything I could to convince them otherwise!" He turned around and leaned over on his desk, appearing frustrated by her. "I took you in when no one else would, I gave you a home when no one wanted you!"
Velpia clenched her hands. "I have done..."
"I don't want to hear it! Drake barked. He then turned back to her and backhanded her across her face. The slap forced her to stumble in a daze. "You are nothing, barefaced!"
He stood over her as she lay on the floor. "You should have been more grateful for everything we provided you! Instead, you made us out to be fools! I should send you back to Palaven to you can greet the firing squad!" He paused and angrily pointed to one of the guards. "Get her out of my sight; I have actual work to do!"
Mitchell walked over after watching the commotion. "You think the bigwigs will ask her any questions?"
"I don't think they will; we have enough evidence to bury her alive. It should be little more than a sentencing." Drake calmly replied.
Mitchell leaned on one of the crates by the desk as Drake walked back around to his station. "I'm actually surprised the Batarians didn't take her more seriously; we warned them about her."
"It played out well enough-"
A loud explosion was heard and felt coming from above. Pieces rained down on the ceiling shaking off the dust on the metal frame above them. "What the shit." Mitchell cursed.
Mitchell ran towards the stairway and started to head towards the entrance. Mitchell was armed with his Predator pistol and radio; he generally didn't need to use his weapons as he always had support.
Mitchell began barking orders over the radio and trying to dispatch his damage control and response crews. He also forced the patrol teams to call in. Much of the responses over the radio were of panic and loud echoes.
As he began nearing the top of the facility, he heard gunfire and screaming. He returned to a security post and gathered two teams called in to help with the situation.
They managed to reach Level Two, a small open area with a few catwalks overhead leading out several ways. Mitchel led the teams through the doorway and into the empty space. "We got a target," one of the men yelled out while pointing his rifle at one of the catwalks.
Mitchell looked in the direction of where his man was pointing. A strange man was wearing a black baggy hoodie and old-school cargo woodland pants. He had his hood pulled up over his head and seemed to be wearing a cloth mask with no eye or mouth holes and wearing a chest rig."
"Fire!" Mitchell yelled to his men. The Blue Suns soldiers began to fire, the sound of fifteen guns of various makes and models unleashing everything they had at the figure. The man had gotten off only a few shots before retreating into the previous walkway. The crew halted fire, and half the team was ordered by Mitchell to ascend up that position. Mitchell ascended with the first team, trying to keep a close eye on that doorway. He was ready for this fight and had the people he needed to do it.
As he climbed the last few stairs, he heard a "thump" sound, and a rounded object flew past his field of view. It bounced off the wall behind them, and an object began to fall toward his second team below. "Get out!" he turned and screamed as fast as he could. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough. The round detonated just above the team's head. It was a quick yet big flash, bang, and a large puff of smoke that shook everyone and the building. Shrapnel was thrown in every direction, more so was that apparent than the team below. He watched helplessly as seven of the ten operators instantly dropped to the ground.
The others were stunned or injured. He turned his focus back to the doorway. A few of his team started firing down the hall. *CRACK.* The first accurate shot came back towards him and into the forehead of the man on the left. Blowing his gray matter out the rear of his helmet.
Mitchell stepped away from the hallway and looked down at the now nearly headless man lying on the floor. Blood pooled around where his body lay. He quickly snapped out of it and forced his men into the hallway. They began to funnel in while firing their weapons to try to suppress the man in black. *Crack, Crack, Crack* two more men dropped to the ground as he retreated.
The remaining five of his team, plus Mitchell, ran down the hall toward his last known position. Just as the first man rounded the corner, Mitchell heard a *Clang, pop* and saw a dinner plate size metallic anti-personnel mine spring up from the floor. Mitchell reacted, knowing what was going to happen next. He quickly slid to a stop and tackled the two men behind him to get them below the Blast. The explosion was deafening and threw shrapnel into the other three men he was following. He was dazed from being so close to the explosive but rolled over on his back.
From the floor, he witnessed one of the men leaning against the wall, gurgling on the blood spilling into his lungs, then slowly sliding down, leaving a blood trail. The man then falls over and stops moving. Mitchell didn't see much of what remained of the lead man, and second, was thrown over the railing. He couldn't believe what was happening. He nearly lost his two teams in less than thirty seconds. He panicked and ordered the two remaining men to fall back with him.
"Drake, we have a problem; we need more reinforcements sent to level two; we just got decimated here!" There was silence on the radio while they were running back the way they came.
They ran to level six, where the communications sub-levels were. This level consisted of a few intersecting catwalks; the lights seemed darkened since the last time they came through. The three men ran as if they were running from a monster. A flash appeared before them, followed by a cracking noise as the first man in line fell to the ground. This causes the man in front of Mitchell to trip and fall on the now-dead man. A second shot rang out from the dark area; Mitchell saw the outline of the man as the shot fired and darted left to get behind cover. The shot shattered the fallen man's skull, sending fragments and blood in several directions. Mitchell quickly peeked over his cover and started to return fire with his pistol. The rounds ricocheted off some metal objects on the wall and illuminated the surrounding area for a split second. No one was there. He quickly dropped back down as the panic continued to set in.
He decided to continue to move down the darkened catwalk. He thought he would be picked off like the others if he stayed. He made his way slowly with his pistol raised in front of him. He was sweating and breathing heavily, his eyes darting around, trying to find his target. He needed to get to the catwalk's end to the next level. There were some auto-turrets there that he could use to mount a proper defense. He started to approach another intersection when he heard a thud from behind. It startled him as he turned around to greet it. Nothing was there; he turned back around only to see the man in black. The man had a Viper DMR rifle pointed at him, but he did not fire.
Mitchell let off three shots, the first shot hit his kinetic barrier, and the man leaped to Mitchell's right as the next two shots missed their mark, slamming the door behind him. The man quickly peeked from behind the corner. Mitchell began firing but missed; the man fired one shot that knocked the pistol out of Mitchell's hand. He stumbled back and looked around to find cover but was in the open.
The man slowly came out from behind his cover and headed toward him. Mitchell was in complete panic but was trying to keep the man from seeing it. The man dropped his rifle, which now hung from his chest rig. He began to approach him with a quickening pace. Mitchell wasn't ready to die and charged him, screaming the entire way.
Mitchell tucked himself into the lower chest of the man as the man grappled him. However, Mitchell seemed to underestimate his strength. The man leaned over him, and Mitchell could push the man back several feet until his boots could obtain grip again. The man then grabbed him around the waist and bent his knees. The man picked Mitchell up off the ground, flipping him as he lifted.
He then slammed Mitchell into the floor with such force that it shook the catwalk. Mitchell was dazed, probably concussed; he couldn't think straight. His body felt unwell. He felt sick like all of his internal organs were just rearranged. His vision consisted of blurred darkness, and he couldn't move.