l...l
Chapter Seventeen
July 22nd, 2077
Night City, Northern California
Complex 29-B, Charter Hill
"Welcome to N54 Nightly News; I'm Gillian Jordan! We have a breaking development coming out of North Oak after a massive explosion at the former Impala Automatics factory complex recently acquired by the Black Element Mercenary Company. Reports are still arriving, but a massive force of NCPD and MAXTAC personnel have quarantined the site and are scouring the debris. Initial theories are pointing towards a terrorist attack by Thailand Nationals, however that remains inconclusive."
"Sergeant, turn that shit off." Captain Alex Decker's voice reverberated throughout the command room. The order momentarily captured the attention of a half dozen Netrunners monitoring the Militia's telecommunications network.
"Yes, ma'am." Her Company Netrunner, Tech Sergeant Dexter Woods, deftly changed the monitor's channel to a soothing orchestra channel from his neural chair. The twenty-five-year-old male was hand-picked by Decker's predecessor, given his unnatural aptitude as a Netrunner, a scarce trade inside the Sixth Street Gang.
The last thing Decker needed to listen to was a terrorist attack in Night City; she had enough on her plate with the Animals pushing their territories in Heywood. It was odd for the combat gang to initiate any offensive action so soon after their own conflict with the Valentinos. Still, those muscle heads often acted on emotion rather than logic.
Generally, the Militia's superior organization and training would restrict the Animal's desire to initiate aggression without outside assistance. However, the Maelstrom and the Tyger Claws' tumultuous experiences caused a string of incidents that no one could predict.
Gunner was throwing every available Sixth Street soldier he could muster from both active and reserve companies into the Glen. He was desperate to stem the growing mass of Animal gangers hammering their outposts and front companies.
The Sixth Street gang was organized into twelve different companies assigned to a specified district in their territories. Each company was led by a Captain that was in turn under the direct command of Will Gunner. Six of those companies were permanently stationed in Santo Domingo, with four being regulated to reserve duties. The remaining units were distributed evenly to protect their interests in the Glen, Vista Del Rey, and Charter Hill.
Decker commanded Monarch Company, and it was previously the Sixth Street Gang's most talented and elite corps of infantry. However, following their bloody struggle with the Tyger Claws and Colonel Scott Graham's unfortunate passing, that was no longer the case.
Now Monarch Company was filled with fresh recruits and a severe lack of experienced leadership. That lack of guidance was prevalent throughout the other companies in the Sixth Street gang, but only to a lesser extent.
The body count was manageable for now, but if this war continued at its pace, the number would reach catastrophic levels. Gunner didn't care about the Glen's civilian population; his only concern was the profits he wouldn't be raking in from their protection rackets and prostitution rings.
The man was a disease; his influence and mismanagement were escalating with every passing day. The bastard dared to celebrate in his honor while their war with the Animals was in full swing.
A week into the war, two of her subordinates were killed by the Animal leader Sasquatch. The Animals Chieftain made a point of butchering their bodies so severely; they were completely unrecognizable.
Aidan Cooper, her executive officer, went missing two days later and most of her First Platoon somewhere in the Glen district. Monarch Company was recalled immediately back to Charter Hill for replenishment and was interchanged with Sovereign Company.
Decker was furious that Gunner removed her from the front, without allowing her the opportunity to reclaim Cooper. Now amid a rapidly escalating conflict with one of their chief rivals, Decker and her company were regulated to perimeter duty in Charter hill.
"Captain," Woods grabbed her attention. "First Sergeant Bosworth is on the net."
The former Corporal distinguished himself during a skirmish with a roaming Wraith pack that believed Santo Domingo required their presence. Bosworth was one of the relative few NCO's in her command that possessed some level of combat experience. He was promoted to Company First Sergeant and took command of Cooper's scattered platoon in his absence.
Currently, Bosworth led a hand-picked section of Monarch Troopers and Bloodhounds, searching for Cooper and her missing soldiers.
The Captain snatched the radio aggressively, voice cut in pure stone. "This is Monarch Six; go ahead, Crown Seven?"
"Ma'am, search teams have drawn up blanks on Lieutenant Cooper, and the Animals are getting too restless from our prodding." The Captain cursed under her breath; she hoped Bosworth would retrieve her executive Officer, but that was a pipe dream now. "Any sign of Alpha Target?"
Alpha Target. A designation that was created to identify one of Night City's growing enigmas.
It was hard to believe that barely a month ago, Decker would have reprimanded any non-commissioned officer for wasting her time about a Night City Myth. The very idea that a single individual was responsible for eliminating one of the six most potent gangs in Night City was insane. The reality it was done in little more than a week was an even bigger box of crazy.
Now this 'Headhunter' was making the Sixth Street Gang his next mark. Decker had hoped the sociopath would at least be preoccupied with butchering more Tyger Claws, but it seemed he possessed the ability to multitask. A trait she both admired and despised all in the exact moment.
The only saving grace Decker and her men still retained; was that the Headhunter wanted to contact her. An act of mercy that she rightfully assumed was not given to the Maelstrom or the Tyger Claws. Her remaining concern revolved around what in god's name he wanted from Decker and her men.
"Keep your eye on the ball," The Officer ordered. "Alpha target is my issue tonight, not yours, First Sergeant. Find, Cooper, if we're going to win this war against the Animals, then I need my best Officer back."
"Yes, Ma'am, Crown Six out." Decker slammed the radio on the command table; all the stress she had been feeling for weeks was coming to a head. Sooner or later, she would have to request a leave of absence to get away from it all, but something told her Gunner would use that opportunity to fuck things up even more.
This job and the obligations that came with it were beginning to extract an uneasy toll on Decker's body. She was barely twenty-nine years of age, but she suffered like an old hag in her seventies that could barely get out of bed in the morning.
"Ma'am," The Tech Sergeant's voice almost made her shriek in anger. "We have a level five transmission request from Torment."
Torment. That was Gunner's callsign, and she really didn't want to converse with that raging fucking moron. Decker's exasperated sigh and string of naughty words directed at Gunner was graciously ignored by Woods and the other technicians inside the command center.
"Patch him through to my quarters; I'll take the call there." It was standard protocol to receive a level-five transmission in a secured location away from any potential observers.
Decker exited the command room and made a beeline for her spacious personal quarters. Sixth Street Officers enjoyed luxuries that were similar to UNSA Military Officials. A relaxing living area with top of the line appliances, comfy furniture, and a personal communication terminal that was a Netrunners wet dream.
The Captain stood at parade rest in front of her communication terminal, inhaling a deep soothing breath and combing her right hand through her dirty blonde hair. The last time Decker received one of these messages, it was a waste of her time and patience. Gunner was bitching about a Joytoy that he was certain had given him something; she almost ordered her men to bomb his H.Q. when common sense stopped her.
"This is Monarch, go ahead, Torment." The synthetic, even-toned voice and the black screen on her monitor immediately set her on edge.
"Captain Decker?"
"Who is this." The Captain had an inkling of an idea to her intruder's identity.
"Did Bosworth deliver my message?" Decker's right hand slowly grasped the grip of her Lexington; tension was coiling around her body in a manner she hadn't felt since her first combat deployment as a Corpo soldier.
"It was a vague demand for a meeting. A meeting I assumed would be taking place face to face, not over a radio."
The Captain barely missed the shimmering form that was nearly seven-feet-tall, but she did not miss the lights switching off. Nor did she miss a large hand slamming down on her Lexington's holster, engulfing her own extremity. A secondary hand wrapped itself around her mouth, preventing her from crying out to her subordinates.
"A correct assumption." A visor as dark as the night sky consumed her vision, and for the first time in Decker's life, she was frightened beyond belief. "Calm yourself, Captain. If I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I have no desire to speak to anyone but you tonight. Do you understand me?"
Decker did her damndest to fight through the dread coursing through her veins, but it was a challenging prospect with a seven-foot-tall death dealer making her feel like a tiny critter. The Headhunter understood the reason for her anxiety and slowly extracted his hands from her body, but not before taking her Lexington in his left hand.
The enigma patiently waited for the Sixth Street Captain to find her bearings; her heart was still beating like a drum as her eyes drank in her unwanted guest. The Northside Headhunter rumors were always second-hand accounts posted by some blogger who managed to snag a blurry photo.
Now Decker was permitted the rare opportunity to test just how accurate those allegations were. The man was a giant, possessing an impressive height mixed in with pounds of pure muscle. She figured the man was a death bot with all the hearsay running around Night City, but his movements still contained the fluidity of a human being.
The giant was leaning against the far wall next to a barely open window, arms crossed. His entire frame was cloaked in darkness, with only the front end of his helmet visible due to the moonlight shining outside.
"Focus, Decker," The shadow ordered. "I have work to do, and I do not enjoy my time being wasted."
"Give me a fucking second." The Sixth Street officer bit out sharply; all her years in the military and leading her company could not prepare her for this situation.
There was no manual on dealing with a driven sociopath like the Headhunter, and she'd kill anyone who disagreed. After a few deep breaths, Decker was capable of, at the minimum, holding a terse conversation.
"What do you want." Frustration leaked into her voice.
"Your clan is a cancer; leeching off the inhabitants of Santo Domingo," The flat tone kept her on edge. "If you were Tyger Claws or Maelstrom, we would have met under different circumstances. I am confident that I do not have to clarify my intent."
The giant leaned backward, disappearing into the shadows where Decker could barely make out his frame. She stumbled forward, hand prodding where he previously sat, only to find air.
"I understand that your executive officer is missing in action." The voice rang out behind Decker again, spooking the Captain into swing her right hand in an instinctual retaliation.
Again, she only found empty space.
"First Lieutenant Aidan Cooper," Decker replied with a snarl. "What the hell do you know about him?"
Cyrus emerged from the shadows to Decker's immediate right, his darkened visor encompassing her vision. Decker subconsciously took a step back, smacking into her workstation with all the subtly of a passing train.
"I know he's missing." The Headhunter's sudden advance on Decker caused her to stumble into her office chair, body leaning back as the robotic giant loomed over her. "I also know that the Animals are keeping him captive, and I offer to return him to you under one condition."
"Yeah, and what would that be?" The Captain knew her indignant remark was not amusing the Headhunter, but she would be damned if he could intimidate her without some retaliation.
An anxious moment of silence passed as the intimidating killer loomed over Decker's petrified form. She tried her hardest to maintain an expression of confidence, but it tumbled the longer she stared into the black abyss.
"You will help me repurpose your gang Decker," He spoke in a tone devoid entirely of emotion, head leaning backward, and the suffocating aura he emitted retreated with him. "For too long, your people have neglected the duty to safeguard Santo Domingo, and soon you will decide if the Sixth Street gang becomes more than leeching cancer that I forcefully eradicate."
Decker glowered in muted disbelief; a select few Night City residents remembered a time when the Sixth Street Militia was more than just another gang. Their predecessors were no doubt rolling in their graves at the mere thought that the Sixth Street Gang became the malignancy it sought to eradicate.
"Make no mistake, and I will remove Will Gunner from this land, whether or not the Sixth Street Gang joins him in an early grave is up to you." The Headhunter's voice drew her back to the present conversation. Decker didn't trust the words to fall from her mouth and only have a reluctant nod in response. "Do we have an accord?"
"How can I trust anything you say to me?" The Captain spat out suddenly. "Say we get rid of Gunner; how do I know you won't just kill us all in the end?"
"You shouldn't," The Headhunter admitted. "But your only choice is to have faith in my honesty, Miss Decker.
Whether or not the man was offended by her questioning was not evident, Decker didn't think she could sink into her chair any lower with that impervious visor of his. The tense silence was abated when the Headhunter walked right past her, barely glancing at her as he departed the room.
"I'll be in touch." Impossibly, the frightening tower of steel disappeared into the shadows.
Deckers entire form deflated upon his departure; she attempted to settle her nerves by tapping a finger on the desk next to her. Events had now transpired that we're entirely out of her control, and her only hope was to weather the coming storm.
It was going to be a long week.
Night City, Northern California
Basilica Bar, The Glen
"Chamber, what do you have for me?"
Cyrus was quietly observing one of many affiliated businesses owned by the Animals combat gang in Night City. The gang was well known for their lighting, and often violent, raids on residential districts and rival gang businesses. Open conflict was not their forte, but they were still a capable shock and awe force that brought a tremendous amount of fear and anxiety upon their victims.
The Animals had an unnatural fascination for the primal side of human nature. Their way of life revolved around the thin border between Man and Animal, leading each combat gang member to take on a personal quest to establish themselves as a new dominant human subspecies.
To achieve this psychopathic foal, they voluntarily subject themselves to violent tests of physical and mental abilities. They willingly take on dangerous cyberimplanted opponents no matter what their previous affiliations or loyalties. They train in the art of unarmed combat not for philosophical or moral reasoning, but in fact, to sharpen their effectiveness in close quarters warfare.
The Animals were a prevalent force in the rapidly expanding industry of illegal underground fighting. They were often utilizing this illegal activity to manufacture and advertise illegal drugs, with an apt desire to brew and distribute anabolic steroids to their gangers.
Packs of roaming Animal gangers are spread throughout Night City, often preferring to raid drug stores, Corpo chemical transports, pharmaceutical companies, and drug dealers who foolishly sold on their turf without permission. Many gangers also hired themselves out as bouncers at brothels and strip clubs or as racketeers who specialized in extortion and intimidation.
The UNSC duo silently drew comparisons between the Animal gangers and the Brutes. Cyrus was confident that their tactics would be likened to Covenant brute strategy. An enemy that relied upon pure offensive aggression and feral rage to its fullest extent in combat.
Cyrus's target tonight was an underground fight club located in the central part of the Glen. Chamber was able to locate Cooper's signal buried twenty meters below a speakeasy nestled in a dead-end alleyway separated from the sprawling Night City life.
The bar was called 'Basilica,' and the gang had recently come into ownership of the illicit fight club after violently removing its previous owners from the picture. Now it was refurbished to the gang's liking, where their captives were sent to take part in their brutal fighting. There was no tactical reasoning in utilizing their captives in such a way, and it was only for the pure entertainment of the Animal thugs.
"Aside from the club's internal schematics," Chamber replied coolly as a floor plan appeared on the Spartan's HUD. "Not much; these guys don't operate like the other gangs in Night City. No security cameras to breach, defensive turrets to take advantage of, and the electrical grid isn't separated from the city power stations. The only thing I have for you is that Cooper's signal is down there."
Cyrus regarded the schematics closely. The first level was where the Animals conducted their legal business, revolving around the imagery of an old speakeasy. It maintained a central corridor with an assortment of pool tables, dining tabletops, and a bar top with a collection of expensive drinks. The staff and bar patrons we're never allowed in the inner parts of the speakeasy without approval from the Animals standing guard.
A pair of steel double doors led to the second floor, where the outlaws were able to watch the night's entertainment from above the fighting arena. The location used to host a clientele with a yearning to bet on fights, but that practice was finished when the combat gang took over. Now, it only served to entertain the Animals and the fighters; we're more often than not victims of their raids.
The fighting arena was outlined by a dozen holding cells where the captives were kept. The chambers were directly underneath where the Animals celebrated the festivities from the second floor. It gave the gangers easy access to their amusement and kept the prisoners in line for fear of retribution.
"So, were blind?" The Headhunter inquired.
"Effectively, yes," Chamber informed as the schematics winked off his screen. "We are heedless to the dealings and events transpiring inside that club, which means we need to do this the old fashion way."
"No subtly tonight then." The Spartan palmed the Carnage magnetized to his back and brought it across his chest. "Decker give you the coordinates for the survivors to rendezvous?"
"Affirmative," Chamber replied. "Bosworth and his men are on standby waiting to pick up their boys. All they're waiting on is us."
"Prediction on numbers?"
"Hmmm, underground location with three levels and about two hundred meters in width and length," the A.I. ran a million calculations in her head. "I'll put the number at about thirty Animals and ten captives."
"Forty hostiles and five hostages." The Spartans counter was met with a wide smirk from his companion.
"I'll take that bet," Chamber replied earnestly, the smile growing wider in anticipation of her probable success. "Let's get evil."
Cyrus stepped off the high-rise roof, landing directly on top of an unlucky Animal Raptor. The ganger exploded into an orgy of synthetic blood mixed in with a familiar crimson red. The Spartan didn't give his associates a chance to retaliate with two quick shots from his Carnage and a vicious stab from his patented Kukri, ending the fight before it ever began.
He watched the final animal ganger attempt to rush for the speakeasy doors, but the Spartan's Kukri was embedded through the back of his skull before he could raise the alarm.
Cyrus marched towards the dead ganger wrenching his Kukri from his skull and banging his right hand against the steel doors. He mounted the end of his Carnage directly against the peek hole; an Animal bouncer pulled back the steel grille with an irritated expression.
"What the fuck do," The Raptor vaguely recognized the standard barrel of a Carnage shotgun. "Oh, shit."
*Bang*
The Animal's head was separated into a dozen different pieces, as chunks of brain matter and bone fragments propelled into the bar area. The patrons enjoying their drinks and making small talk inside exploded in a garbled mass of terrified shrieks.
The Headhunter's seven-foot frame stepped into the speakeasy's main accommodation area with a suffocating aura. Bar patrons and Animal gangers alike were stunned into a menacing silence; their bones shook from the overpowering terror seeping into them. No one dared to move a muscle out of fear of drawing the urban myths impervious gaze.
Cyrus overlooked the individuals populating the main corridor; most were simple bar patrons, with only a select few belonging to the Animal gang. The gangers were crowded around the double set of doors leading further into the Club, presumably where they conducted their illegal fight business.
He took five gradual steps forward, clearing a path behind him for the civilians to beat feet out of the hot zone. Predictably they didn't move a muscle, and Cyrus let out an uncharacteristic sigh of irritation only Chamber could hear. His gaze regarded the civilians cowering near the bar and pool table zones.
"Run."
The patrons did not need a second hint; the sound of beating feet rushed passed, Cyrus. Frightened civilians took great care to avoid touching the Spartan as they by-passed by him. It didn't take long for the speakeasy to empty out all its previous customers, including the bartenders who, in a mad dash, grabbed their belongings and stumbled past him. Those barkeeps almost certainly realized their place of employment was going under.
Four Animal outlaws stood guard outside the Club's interior entrance, hands hovering over their holstered firearms. Cyrus noted two of the gangers possessing DR-5 Novas while the remaining two utilized Crusher Shotguns.
Once the final employee rushed past the Headhunter, he took one step back, turning his body slightly, and closed the steel door behind him. Chamber reactivated the electronic padlocks with a flick of his fingers, imprisoning the Animal gangers and Cyrus in a confined space.
A quiet hush permeated through the speakeasy; the Headhunter could pick out the Animals elevated breathing across from him. Perspiration formed along the crown of a nervous Animal thug while a compatriot to his right snarled at Cyrus in barely concealed rage.
Few citizens of Night City would survive being locked in a room with a gang of steroid abusing thugs. However, tonight, the gangers were trapped with the one entity in the sprawling metropolis they could not hope to contend with.
"So," the Headhunter's voice echoed ominously off the concrete walls. "Whose first?"
An unyielding battle cry erupted through the cybernetic mouth of an Animal Jackhammer. The CQC specialist charged Cyrus with reckless abandon; all manner of intelligence was snatched from her steroid addled brain. She was left with only a burning desire for bloodshed and violence.
Cyrus narrowly avoided two shotgun blasts from the ganger's Crusher, but instead of reloading the firearm, she discarded it for her enhanced gorilla arms. It was the last mistake in a long list of moral errors the cybernetic thug committed.
The Spartan squeezed off a single shot from his Carnage. The pellets impacted across her frame, only slightly damaging the heavily augmented Animal. Cyrus ducked under a superman punch and launched his right knee into her abdomen. Spittle and blood fell from her lips as Cyrus raised his Carnage and smashed the stock into the back of her cranium.
The kinetic force caved in the back of her head, a shower of brain matter and blood coated Cyrus's MJOLNIR. Gravity finally pulled the deceased corpse to the ground, blood pooling from her fatality inducing wounds.
The rest of the gangers had exploded into action, using their compatriot's less than successful banzai charge to their advantage. The Raptor's flipped over a pair of pool tables to use as cover, while the third Animal jumped over the bar top and fired off two shells from his Crusher.
Shotgun cartridges unleashed tiny ballistic projectiles, wrecking pricy cocktails and beer, imitating a peek nightmare scenario for a raging alcoholic. Cyrus refused to give the Animals any more time to think, his titanium laced frame barreling through a collection of tables towards the shotgun-wielding Animal.
The Headhunter's massive frame burst through the bar top, sending chunks of wood and ceramic everywhere. The Animal ganger was stunned by the aggressive maneuver, leaving him vulnerable to his own assault. Cyrus snatched the outlaw by his throat, crushing the man's larynx and using his carcass to absorb a barrage of rounds from the Animal Raptors.
Cyrus braced his shotgun in between his human shields perforated torso and right arm, squeezing off to shotgun shells. One shell missed its intended target by a mere few inches, while the last shot impacted just underneath the closest ganger's jaw, killing him instantly.
The surviving Animal retreated with all haste, bursting through the double doors to veritable safety. Cyrus wasn't taken aback when the Animals downstairs greeted their comrade with a volley of lethal gunshots. The Raptor's corpse stumbled down the flight of concrete stairs, coming to a final rest at the bottom with a ceremonious thud.
Howls of indignation and unease reached the Spartan's augmented hearing.
Cyrus peeked through a crack in the door, gaze landing on an extensive collection of Animal gangers forming a barricade at the bottom of the stairs. He palmed a flash grenade magnetically attached to his waist and topped off his Carnage with fresh shells.
"Mother fucker!" A cybernetic laced voiced cried out. "I thought you said they were dead!"
"Well," An Animal Gunner poked at his comrade's carcass with the barrel of his Defender LMG. "They're dead now, boss."
A series of clangs emitted from the stairway, drawing the rest of the Animal's easily distracted eyes. A Berserker was about to yell in wonderment when an object finally rested next to their dead comrade.
The Gunner only needed a second to recognize the object's explosive markings. "GRENADE!"
A barrage of blistering shrapnel blasted down the makeshift barricade and mortally wounding four outlaws who lacked proper spacing. An Animal ganger made a valiant attempt to rally his compatriots, but he was immediately silenced by an invisible hand bursting through the front of his sternum.
Cyrus made a furious dash down the flight of stairs when the frag grenade cooked off. He opted to keep the thugs off balance by unleashing his own brand of vicious attacks. The Headhunter kicked the carcass off his camouflaged limb and squeezed off a rain of ballistic shells upon Animal after Animal.
A pitched gun battle soon broke out between the Animals and Spartan; a select few gangers tried their luck engaging him at melee range. Those fools didn't live long enough to regret their final mistake, and their compatriots opted to engage Cyrus at a distance.
When the need arose, the A.I expertly activated his camouflage module, confusing the combat gangers' perception of their adversary. The gun battle dipped into moments of tense silence when the Animals temporarily lost visuals on the Headhunter. These fleeting moments of calm were shattered when Cyrus butchered a thug from a different angle, setting off the skirmish once again.
The Headhunter grasped the end of a wooden table with his right hand, quickly lifting it while simultaneously squeezing off a single shell into the torso of an Animal Brutalizer. The thug's body was sent flying backward, over the steel railing into the fighting arena below. Cyrus tossed the wooden table like a frisbee, impacting a pair of Animal Gunners who nearly unleashed a barrage of high explosive shells upon him.
"Having fun?" Chamber's voice echoed through his helmet; Cyrus drew his Kukri flinging the blade at an Animal brandishing a Nova and piercing his forehead. "Sure, looks like it from my point of view."
"Chamber," The Spartan growled out while exchanging ballistic shells with an Animal Gunner. "Is there a point to your comment?"
"Yes," the A.I replied brazenly. "We have company, and it's not the sort of type we want to deal with right now."
"Give me a moment." Cyrus ducked underneath a pair of enhanced gorilla arms, burying his fist into the Animal Undertakers' right shoulder.
The ganger's right arm popped out of its socket with a brutal crunch; Cyrus increased the ante by kicking the man to the ground and planting his foot on the ganger's torso. The Spartan snatched the thug's forearm with his free hand and pulled it with a tremendous amount of strength. A gut-wrenching scream bludgeoned the surviving Animals' resolve; the eyes of several thugs bugged out as Cyrus ripped their compatriot's arm clean off.
The Headhunter silenced the outlaw's screams by booting the poor Animal towards his compatriots. A stream of crimson blood followed in the grievously wounded ganger's wake, impacting the far wall and imploding in a fountain of red.
Cyrus popped back into cover and switched out his Carnage for his Unity; his hand reached over and snatched his Kukri from its human sheath.
"You were saying?" A mini screen popped up at his HUD's bottom right, containing a feed from a CCTV camera outside. The Spartan cursed under his breath as he laid eyes on an NCPD cop car followed by a radio transmission.
"Dispatch to any available cars, 10-71 in progress at Tribeca and York avenue."
"Echo 219 to Dispatch, show us responding."
"Echo 225 to Dispatch, show us assisting 219's call."
"Dispatch copies all, Echo 219 and 225 are en responding. Requesting additional units as they become available."
"Time to arrival?" The clock was ticking, and Cyrus didn't want to deal with cops while engaging a group of Animals. Police officers had a habit of complicating a situation further, and the last thing Cyrus needed was to have a cop die anywhere near him.
That was the kind of heat Cyrus could do without.
"Five minutes," Chamber supplied swiftly. "So, wrap this up, will you. I've grown tired of watching you butcher these muscle heads."
"So have I."
Aidan Cooper was not having a memorable few months; in fact, it was a nightmare that was spiraling out of control. That uncontrolled descent into chaos began when Colonel Graham was killed in action, and Will Gunner took over the gang.
Since that change in leadership, Cooper had been continually looking over his shoulder at every passing shadow. Serving as Decker's X.O. in Monarch Company already put a target squarely on his back, and it only grew larger when Gunner took control. He kept reminding his Commanding Officer that the Colonel was gunning for anyone still loyal to the Patriot Faction, but she was cautious about initiating the first move.
That hesitation cost him his entire platoon, Gunner had ensured Cooper and his platoon would stumble into an Animal ambush. And while he couldn't prove this fact to the rest of the Sixth Street gang, Decker would believe him wholeheartedly.
Gunner had fired the first shot, and Decker was left in the dark.
Surmising gunner's treachery mattered little now, the Monarch Lieutenant was stuck in a rotting cell with barely eleven of his remaining men. He needed a way out of here, but he was running short on viable options.
Cooper needed to get out of this cell with the rest of his men intact.
The Animals had taken the surviving Sixth Street soldiers captive, separating them into holding cells surrounding a fight ring. The Officer could still communicate with his men through the metal bars, but the Animals didn't like it when the prisoners conversed amongst themselves.
Messages had to be relayed via hand signals or passed along from cell to cell. It was a communication process that was still a work in progress, but it was the best they could come up with on the fly.
Cooper grasped the makeshift shiv he procured during his captivity. It was a stark reminder of the circumstances behind his capture and how many men he had lost already. Sixth Street Soldiers we're the best-equipped gang in Night City, and all it took was one critical mistake to see them regulated to such primitive weapons.
Synthetic blood was still present along the shivs jagged edges, and the Animals were constantly sending their fresh recruits to prove themselves in the arena against Cooper's men. Most newcomers were little more than steroid abusing psychopaths; the gonks did not depart the fighting grounds without receiving a fresh set of injuries.
However, the combat gangers only seemed to delight in the spilling of blood, even if it originated from the bodies of their own recruits. Exhaustion was slowly chipping away at Cooper's bones; the constant fighting took a heavy toll on him and his men.
Monarch Company grunts were the best trained of any Sixth Street detachment, but that training meant nothing without the proper experience, and the Animals were relentless in their desire for blood. Soon the captives would find themselves drowning in a mass of gangers that would grind them into dust.
"Lieutenant."
Cooper's attention was drawn to his right; Sergeant Ian Pershing's weathered face was obscured by the metallic rods. Pershing was the only squad leader in first platoon to survive the Animal ambush, and it was his duty to ensure the survivors maintained their discipline.
The Officer shuffled to his right, leaning against the steel bars where he could converse with Pershing quietly. "What is it, Sergeant?"
"Men are getting restless, Sir," The squad leader dipped his head back subtly, gaze relentlessly observing his surroundings for a passing Animal. "We need to make a move soon before our boys get desperate. Do you have a plan?"
Cooper did not have a plan.
He was banking on Decker pulling them out of the fire; otherwise, they were screwed. Half of his men were still sporting grievous wounds inflicted upon them during the ambush, and the other half didn't have the necessary energy to overpower their captors.
"Keep them docile, Sergeant," Cooper ordered softly. "Decker will come for us; we just need to buy her the necessary time."
If Pershing trusted in the blind hope Cooper was spouting, he didn't let it show. The First Platoon Sergeant nodded firmly and shuffled quietly to the opposite side of his cell, relaying the critical information to a patiently waiting Sixth Street private.
The harsh words imparted by Pershing swiftly subdued the grunts scowl of frustration. It wasn't long before the rest of Cooper's men we're relayed their current orders.
He didn't have to be a psychic to read the tension spewing from his subordinate's bodies. They wouldn't last much longer in captivity; Cooper and his men prayed to the gods they worshipped for a miracle to be divulged upon them.
A commotion shattered Cooper's thoughts, and the sounds of beating footsteps stole his attention. The Animals were in a rush on the upper level, and it didn't take long for the rest of the boys to take notice.
The familiar sound of gunfire and screaming sent a jolt of anticipation through Cooper's weary body. For the briefest moment, the Lieutenant grasped at the false hope that Decker had done the impossible and located them.
That hope was demolished when the mangled corpse of an Animal Berserker splattered across the arena grounds. The callouts and tactical maneuvers that he was familiar with did not echo across the arena.
Whoever was confronting the gangers above was a voiceless power that instilled terror upon them, and the Animals were never afraid of any Sixth Street soldier. Cooper could only grimace when his notice fell upon the ganger's entrails leaking from his stomach.
Cooper and his men could only wait in bated anticipation as the fighting above slowly dried up. An uncomfortable silence hung in the atmosphere after the final Animal suffered a grueling demise if his shrieks of agony were anything to go by.
"Lieutenant." Pershing's hushed voice cut through the tension. "Whats out there?"
"I don't know." Cooper found his feet slowly; his right hand gripped his makeshift weapon tighter. "Get the men up, Sergeant, it's time to leave."
"Yes, Sir." Pershing flexed his cybernetic arms, rolling his neck and loosening a series of audible cracks. "On your feet, lads! Time to greet hell."
The Sixth Street grunts that were still capable of standing on their own soon shuffled to their feet. The few god-fearing militiamen believed that the Lord heard their calls for salvation, and an Archangel had descended upon the misbegotten heathens.
A shimmering form of incredible height and size fell from above, slamming into the arena grounds with the force of a hundred men. An invisible hand grasped Cooper's cell ripping off the metal cage with little effort, and the Lieutenant nearly lost his footing when a grave voice spoke to him.
"Lieutenant Cooper?" Cooper nodded slowly, watching the invisible field cloaking his rescuer recede. The invisible cloak gave way to the enigmatic Night City Headhunter; an individual Cooper prayed he'd never run into in his lifetime. "Today's your lucky day. Captain Decker sent me."
Unfortunately for the holy prayers hurled aimlessly into the heavens by the Sixth Street survivors' more religious members. An archangel did not receive their call for deliverance.
A devil arrived in the angel's stead.
Short chapter than usual, but school and work have cut into my free time as of late. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this week's chapter.
Like always I hope you enjoy it, criticism is always welcomed. Please leave a review if you have questions or just wanna say hello.
Hope you have a great rest of your week.
Reviews
tamagat: Sooner or later, but he prefers to keep his hands on lighter weapons.
RickDeckard: An encounter with Delamain has crossed my mind, but no details have been drawn up yet.
So I live in the DFW area and I have just received power after four days of no power. As such I will have to release the next chapter on the 28th and then return to a weekly update.
Next Chapter: February 28th