Earth
New Mombasa
Local clock: 18:12
" Frag out ! "
In perfect sync with the parade-square yell, an apple came sailing through the air in the upper right corner of Dekker's field of view, pitched in a perfect high arch that was taking it on a long trip downrange.
Well, by " apple ", that was an M9 Frag grenade, needless to say- but nicknames always stuck. And whoever had thrown that had one heck of an arm, because the nearest hostiles were pretty much at the edge of where even an pro baseball player could send a sphere.
The usual kind of Covenant gaggle that they'd always called a " squad " was clustered down there: several Grunts, and a Brute Elite with half his chest armor plates missing and blood staining the others that were still clinging on. The beefy alien still had his Spiker rifle though, and was liberally spraying down the hunkered down position of some Army soldiers that had taken position on Dekker's left. As for the Grunts, the stumpies were doing what they did best...which was waddling as quick as they could toward the UNSC forces while their handguns spat white hot energy.
It was a classic " Pin and close " maneuver, and one that was actually working for the Covenant. Well, ish. Working ish, as BR55 and MA5 rounds were shredding the Grunts like knives through paper. But, as quickly as they died, more of the rest of their unit took their place in a flash, and there were a lot of them to chew through. Too many, it was turning out, to deal with before the Angry Ape closed the range to be the kind of problem they couldn't deal with.
Ie, having to play " Dodge the blades that can lop off your arm like its made of fabric " with a blood-raging Brute waving a Spiker around. The odds weren't exactly favoring you on that one.
But, they'd planned for that. Which was why Dekker was where he was.
And, why they'd brought grenades.
They needed more, but they had 'em anyway.
As the hand bomb flew, his BR55 barked, and the Brute's shields blazed as they resisted the impact. The Marine stepped on the pedal, firing and firing, watching the ammo counter run down. It was all the way to 15 bullets to go, but before they could go any lower, the grenade-
BWAOOM !
-went off. The Ape didn't even see it coming, and the blast of high explosive shrapnel overpowered the shield at last. Backwards the Ape stumbled for a step or so, roaring and painting the air with Spiker rounds, before finally coming to a stop, planting both 3 toed feet, and glaring at them past the wisps of grey smoke wreathing the hulking creature as its armor vented and smoldered.
Here he comes...!
Meat .On The. Table.
Not himself, though, obviously.
Not yet, , because Dekker had the advantage.
He wasn't alone. The Ape was.
" BRAVO KILO SHIELD...DOWN ! ", he bellowed through a water-hungry throat , certain the Jarheads around him could hear. " Concentrate fire ! "
He was already centering his scope's bullseyes on the fanged mouth of the Brute as the words left him, peppering more bullets home. On either side, shouts of acknowledgement sounded, as did more bursts of BR55s. The blizzard of rounds homed in, and blood was spattered all over the place...but they were running out of room already.
The Ape was doing its " bull rush like an evil version of Sasquatch " shtick now, sprinting their way like a track star with massive arms out, and claws curled. With that kind of speed...
BWAOOOM !
Another grenade detonated, but it wasn't from them. The Marines who'd been devastating the Grunts- Dynamite 9-1- had been running low on them, so they'd been reluctant to use any. But, with the Brute shield-less (which was basically public nudity for them ), now , they had an opening.
And they went for it. The frag rocked the speeding behemoth, who staggered, and nearly fell.
But, it wasn't enough to make the kill. Roaring like a bear and leaking purple-red blood all over the place, the Ape still didn't stop !
And to make things even worse, Dekker was nearly dry- the counter was down to 8. His reflexes were torn between reloading, and ordering everyone to keep on pouring that heat, even though it completely went without saying. ..
And he could only stop one of those instincts, especially with all the icewater that was adrenaline blasting through him...
So...
" All fire on the legs and head..! ". The Corporal rolled onto one side as he yelled, one hand come free to begin fishing out a spare magazine out of a front pouch.
" Dynamite- shoot 'im in the head ! ", came a female voice with a steel-strong South African accent from off on Dekker's right.
Damn right, Vikara...
Experienced hands got ahold of the magazine, fished it out and slammed it home. As the box made that sharp chkk noise of going in, another rose alongside:
thud, thud, thud, thud...
Jesus...!
He's coming for us...!
More yelling clashed with more gunfire. They were running out of time to bring that monster down...
At least Dekker wasn't running out of adrenaline, though. The icy stuff was still blazing, and he was fighting on pure electricity. Granted, he might've been hit without realizing it, but he'd burn that bridge when he got there.
For now, though...
Yanking the BR55's charging handle, Dekker rose on aching legs, and found the Ape just a few yards from Dynamite's position ! Blood was practically flowing from more wounds than he could count, as Jarheads and Soldiers alike backpedaled furiously to put some space between them and the freight train of muscle and cracked armor careening their way.
Time seemed to speed up and slow down all at once, as Dekker's reflexes guided his crosshairs onto the giant alien's torso, and fired. He couldn't aim; he just shot at the target as centered as he could, with the scant seconds he had. A prayer for a critical hit blinked through his head, but he didn't remember the words.
But, God listened anyway.
" RWAAAAAWOR-! "
" He's goin' down...! "
" Fan out..! "
Thumpb !
The Ape, mouth still wide open in a scream, face-planted onto the warm asphalt with a meaty crash. It sounded like a whole buffalo carcass getting tossed off the back of a truck...just like very other Jiralhane Dekker had ever taken out, or seen get taken out.
Just riddled with bullet holes, and blood droplets spattering the ground every which way. The Ape was just a slab of raw meat now, lying there, taking up space...
Dekker kept his crosshairs on it for a second later, shouting for the others to stay back. " Don't get too close...! "
" Back up, back up ! Vikara ! Get their eyes downrange, set a perimeter, and watch your sectors ! "
Apes had a bad habit of not actually being dead when they looked so much like they were. Sure, you could utterly riddle them with bullets, and yes, they'd go down hard, but there was always that chance that their " blood rage " rush instinct could drive them back to their feet for one last rush. There was a reason, after all, why they'd earned their rep as the deadliest of all the Covie races...aside from the Jackals and their dammed Beam Rifles.
Best course of action was to drill them in the head for good measure. Preferably, right between the eyes.
More than once.
Which is exactly what Dekker did, as the South African acknowledged him with a " Ay, Corporal ! Let's go, mukkas...! "
Brrrmmm, brrrm, brrrrmmm !
Dekker's rifle spat 3 times, and 9 more 9.5mm rounds made sure that the Ape was truly iced.
He sighted down, but the alien stayed still. The mouth just yawed open,
Nighty night, you ugly son of a whore.
Feeling the slight urge to spit on the dead alien, Dekker lowered his muzzle, exhaled as he stepped back, then spared one more second to be sure the Ape had been taken care of, before finally turning away.
Up ahead, the rest of his fireteam had done as he'd said- they'd fanned out, and set up another firing line as members of Dynamite began moving up on the left. All around and beside their path, dead Grunts were sprawled, and random soldiers of the rear echelons were stopping, dropping to a knee, and grabbing the myriad of plasma handguns that were littering the place like autumn leaves.
" Hey- check the damn charge on that ! Its not worth it if its below 50 shots..."
" You want to swap your MA5C for that piece of trash ?! "
" Man, where's a Spiker ? Hey...hey, anyone seen that Bravo Kilo's Spiker...? "
Yep. That was the first order of business after wiping the floor with a band of Covies: police their remains, and secure any ammo, weaponry, or both that was left behind. Or, to put it in more grassroots terms: " Take all their stuff ".
Needless to say, that couldn't be done as long as there were any of 'em left standing. None of that salvaging could begin till the area was secured. But...that last Ape was the last one to deal with, and with that done and dusted, now they could get around to some " battlefield resupply, courtesy of the enemy ", to use another term from the long list of footsoldier slang.
Oh, and they were all low on munitions, anyway. Korsan's column had been driving hard for hours though one slugfest against one well-strapped Covie squad after another, and they'd burned through most of their reserves to get here. It was pretty much just their tanks and the Elephant that had rounds to spare, while the Jarheads and GIs were down to a handful of mags each.
Not anymore, though.
Well, somewhat. Plasma handguns could replace not having enough 7.62mm, for example, but for a stopgap ? That would be fine, yes. It'd served Marines and Soldiers well like that for decades, and it'd do the same here.
His own team would be eager to do the same- and one already had, actually. Private First Class Jenoz had snagged one of the I-shaped weapons from another of the Apes that'd been felled by the Grizzly cannon rounds at the outset of the firefight...or more accurately, vaporized by the huge 125mm shells exploding anywhere near.
Funny how that one had the only PR out of all of 'em...
Just handguns and Spikers otherwise..
Top heavy arsenal, fellas
And now you've paid for it
Stepping over yet another dropped plasma handgun, Dekker closed on the Jarheads/Soldiers he'd been assigned to keep an an eye on.
One spotted him a second before the others. " Corporal ! Hey, Corporal, we grabbed 5 plasma grenades over here ! "
The speaker- a Jarhead, with a Magnum on his hip- was stepping forward from the pack now, holding up a field satchel who's sides were bulging with rounded lumps.
" Look at this ! ".
Grinning like a canary-catching cat, the Marine shook the bag. " Man, look at what we got here ! "
" Its like he's found the map to frickin' El Dorado...", muttered another one standing nearby, along with a shake of the head.
" Hey- hey, they're plasma grenades, ok ?. Enough said. "
Finally joining them by then, Dekker stopped in front of the successful treasure hunter, prompting the Marine with the satchel to blink with surprise.
" Woah...uh... Hey, Corporal. What's up ?"
Without saying a word, Dekker held out one hand, and made a beckoning motion with he tips of his fingers.
"...Wait- you want... all of these ? ", exclaimed the caught-off-guard Marine in question, who's uniform name tab read " Yakes ".
" Not all ", Dekker clarified. " Just one. That's how it goes for all of us- one plasma for each man and woman here. Got it, Private ? "
He'd made sure to raise his voice for that last bit, and it was well received with murmurs and overlapping calls of, " **** yeah ! ", and " All right, get me one of those ! ".
Which was very understandable. After all, who wouldn't want more of those alien bombs ? You couldn't stick a frag grenade onto the side of an Ape, and blow one side of him through the other, which one of the most surefire ways to get rid of one. Then again, pulling it off was dammed hard, nearly to the point of making it an outright trick shot. It was mostly why Dekker hadn't done so on purpose to date; every time he had, it'd been the result of him just using them as a grenade was supposed to be used as.
Ie, arm them, and then lob the thing at the enemy before it cooked off...and that was it. Nothing fancy. Sticking was fancy. Let Spartans, the show offs, do that kind of stuff on their own time.
" Let's go, Jarhead ". Dekker tipped his chin toward the members of Dynamite Squad- and past them, the other elements of the assault force that were still regrouping after the last of the Covenant had been taken out. " This is only the outside; we still got to clear out and secure the interior ! "
" So lets get these grenades handed out ! Get a move on- Captain Korsan's gonna be calling on us any second ! Let's go ! Let's go ! "
" Does the Korporal need to repeat himself !? ", cried Vikara, who's South African brogue carved the air like a knife. " Hurry up, damn it...! "
Between the two of them, that was definitely enough to get a fire going under everyone's ass. The team got going like a switch had be thrown, and while they did not gather up as a bunch- Dekker had been quick to notice they had the common sense to not bunch up like that while out on the field- , they stayed close enough so that Yakes could toss one of the green-purple orbs to everyone who stepped forward.
" Dave ! Here you go..."
" Here's yours, Vikara...don't drop that. "
" Ha, ha...aardvark. "
It was the holiday's come early, as everyone got a plasma charge. After handing one off to the Corporal in command, obviously. Dekker didn't waste a second about tucking that bomb into the nearest empty space on his chest rig- it would be worth its weight in gold sooner or later.
As would all of them.
And, speaking of sooner-
" Biltong ! Biltong squad, respond ! "
Speak of the devil...
" Biltong...rally up ! "
Turning his head that way, Dekker found the officer running the show doing some actual running- right at them. Well, past, technically, and all while accompanied by her own command unit. She was going like a beeline for the middle of them, all while issuing orders left and right for them to form ranks, which was drawing everybody to her like moths to a flame.
Authentic command presence...
Yeah, she's got it alright. I know that when I see it
Needless to say, that meant there was no more time to waste. As if there ever was, though at least the grenades had been gifted evenly by now..
Time to hustle though.
"...Oscar Mike, Ma'am ! ", he called back.
Glancing quickly over to his team and knifing a hand toward the captain, he added without missing a beat, " Double time it ! On me, and let's move ! "
He turned yet again, and began jogging along, while a chorus of loud acknowledgements rose from behind him- his team was in tow.
They were following him, as sure as everyone else was following Korsan, and they were doing it about as willingly as well. All on its own...that surprised Dekker more than anything else. All along, he hadn't gauged himself as much of a leader...
In a pinch, maybe. It'd happened sometimes over the years, but he could count them on one hand. There'd almost always been someone higher up the chain to handle things on that front though, and the few times it hadn't been, he'd just been a stopgap till someone with more chevrons on their shoulders ( or metal on their collars ) turned up and filled the void. Heck, the last example of him getting a " Follow me, I'm the boss ! " moment had been well before the Covies landed...back on Reach, actually.
Lt. Movk. Texas Company, 12th Marines.
Thanks for being around when you were.
But, that hadn't convinced him that he was suited for being a Sergeant. None of them had...but why ? The closest Dekker could come up with, was that there was some sort of...critical mass ? Maybe if it happened enough times, he'd believe it. Or, maybe he needed enough stakes on his shoulders at any of those step-ups, to get the point across. That is, if there was a point to be made at all...
There was, though. There was. He just...well, he just wasn't sure if he wanted that responsibility yet. But, he had to admit...this was probably the tipping point.
If it turned out well, that is.
Besides, there was no more time for having your head in the clouds anymore. Dekker and co had rendezvous by then with the rest of the assault elements, and the field briefing was about to begin.
" Halt, halt, halt...! ", he called out, slowing himself down as he did.
They did, slowly spreading out around him, just as Korsan looked their way. Her weapon- a MA5C- was held muzzle down, and a slightly visible red line had appeared lower down on her right cheek, just above the chin.
More of a deep scratch than anything more...not even enough for some gauze. Some dabbing with antiseptic would take of that. No doubt she already had...or was shrugging off. Either way, Dekker understood.
That and...
...their taskmaster of a new CO.
" Where've you you been, Biltong..!? ", was her parade-ground style greeting, as they drew up, stopping on a dime.
" Get over here, and open your ears ! We've got a precinct to secure, and that was supposed to get done yesterday ! "
Damn right, we do..
But, you're the one with the plan, ma'am, so let's hear it.
It was probably best Dekker didn't say it aloud, praise though it might've been. There was no point in sounding like a first-year private...especially not with the Officer already rattling off the finer points anyway.
" Alright...everyone listen up ! Squad leaders, front and center ! "
" Yes, Ma'am...! "
" On it, Captain..! "
Kneeling, Korsan began tracing a fingertip in the grimy, ash-spattered road surface to illustrate their planned movements, as NonComs gathered all around her.
" Front entrance is all locked up- no way in through there..."
She pointed with her right hand- having slung her MA5C cross-back- toward the double frontal doors of the HQ main building. They were heavy, slab-sided things, built to defend against a potential bombing attack, and each was emblazoned with the white eagle-and-shield logo of the New Mombasa Police Department.
Charred obsidian blast marks, giveaway signs of Covenant plasma weapons, were all over them, but somehow, they'd missed that bird. Or failed to breach the doors. Nothing short of a miracle there, either way...
"..so, we're going to scout out the parking garage. That's off the left hand side, here..."
She tapped the earth again, and backed it up with another point. Again, everyone's eyes followed, ending where there was a yawing wide and rectangular opening of a tunnel that led down beneath street level...backlit by a crashed and burning Phantom that had gotten embedded into the side of a multistory opposite, burrowing itself halfway deep. Flames from the wreck lit up the shredded bits of rebar and gutted interior of the structure, flickering like the light from a desk lamp.
...Good shooting, whoever nailed that one !
Grade A
" Standard practice for garages like that, is for there to be a side door down the length of the opening slope ", went on Korsan. " Biltong Squad will probe it out, find if its a viable entry option. "
She glanced up then, searching for Dekker, but the Corporal was already a step ahead. He'd been paying attention, and was already meeting her eyes when they found his.
They were dark green, he'd just noticed.
" Got it, Corporal ? "
" Copy that, Ma'am ". Dekker nodded. " We'll lead the way. "
" Damn right you will. And after you've been following an ODST Sergeant around all day, I saw that you've learned something about managing . So, frickin' show it again, and keep on doing it ."
Oh, this one's good.
" Yes, Ma'am. No problem. ", the Corporal assured, being sure to let his confidence toward his team show through on its own. Forcing it would've been a rookie mistake, and one that he would not make. Certainly not here and now.
That, and all good officers wanted honesty. Demanded it, in so many words or not.
Satisfied, Korsan showed as much with a nod of her own, then went right back to the briefing, as she prodded the impromptu map for the third time.
" Lastly, remaining units will maintain the perimeter, here ". She traced a rough horseshoe shape, surrounding the frontage of the building. " I'll bring up the convoy. The Grizzlies will be their shields, and we''ll keep the Elephant near the center. "
A tap marked where the ponderous boxy vehicle would be sitting, tucked well behind a ring of the even more thick skinned Grizzly main battle tanks.
" Do not bunch up, and shift cover as needed ! There's no good perch positions for their Jackals, but the street's wide enough for a Wraith- if you somehow missed that. Focus fire on the Brutes first, then scatter the Grunts with frags, and we'll defend this position until the Biltong links up with any survivors. "
As tactical decisions went, that was sound. Elephants had plating to spare, sure, but the Grizzlies had even more. That, and the giant ***k off main cannons they were packing. Barring that the Covies rolled up some of those damn Wraiths, who's plasma would just reach out and scorch the living daylights out of what they hit...
...but, that's what the Grizzlies were for. Those 125mms could reach out quite a ways, Dekker reminded himself, as he examined the rudimentary diagram, having followed the Captain's plan every step of the way. Plus, that's what the screening force of soldiers and marines was for- plenty of cover provided by all the wrecked and abandoned cars strewn around. Contrary to popular belief, cars do not explode like they're stuffed with C4, so the GIs and Jarheads would have a fighting chance by hugging them.
All around, a solid perimeter, given what they had to work with. Which, numerically speaking, wasn't much.
Then again, quality over quantity was still a thing, if the legend of the 300 at Thermopylae had anything to say about it.
Better be enough to keep her safe...
Its has to be...wait. Keep them safe. There's 2 Civvies aboard that Elephant...
Can't let the Covies get that close. No way.
He nodded, just enough to let himself know he had. One fist- the one that was around the grip of his BR55HN- tightened...along with his resolve. He was not going to allow the aliens to get a shot at that Elephant...
...even if he had to face down a Wraith to do it.
The Covies had been here as well, it seemed.
Trails and long, wide smudges of purple and cyan blood stretched down the length of the ramp, winding its way down and to the right. The spatters were pretty random, as they'd probably should be after the kind of firefights that you'd get into with the aliens, but even for someone who wasn't a Dexter, it was clear there'd been a lot of them down here.
That Covie blood glowed like a 90's children's toy glue , especially under low light, and that made it jump out even more.
Mostly the blood of the Grunts, that is. There was enough of the Cyan stuff staining the asphalt to paint a mural- mixed with a couple buckets of Brute blood, which was around as well. There wasn't as much, needless to say, but just one of the Apes could leak an ocean of the stuff when you punctured them with bullets, so how many of them there'd been...who could say ?
Dekker didn't dwell on the fine details. He couldn't afford to. All he could do, was take the scene in, as his boots tracked the alien blood behind him.
Nor did he comment on the scent. The blood he was familiar with had the aroma of copper- burnt, freshly mined copper- but not the alien ichor. It was...well, it more like chlorine. Or whatever kinds of solvents that janitorial staff used to mop floors. Dekker knew what their odors were well enough, after spending more than enough time scrubbing the linoleum floors spotless at 10 Men Burgers during his high school days.
The stuff we use to shine and polish is what these monsters' blood scent is...?
I swear. The galaxy is a weird-ass place.
Well...least I know where I stand.
With a quick touch, he activated his comms.
" Captain ? Corporal Dekker here. Are you receiving ? "
" Reading you, Corporal. Send traffic ", came the crystal clear reply.
" Ay, Korporal ? You're leaving violet footprints...", Vikara casually, who was staying near to his right elbow.
"Am I ?". Dekker responded, without taking his eyes off the way ahead. " Its their blood , Lance. Just stay frosty. "
" Ja, Korporal. ", she acknowledged, deftly getting back on task.
A moment later, though, she murmured something else-and with a derisive tone.
" Vuil diere. Hulle het oral gebloi..."
" What was that, Lance ? ", the other NonCom demanded, as he reached a finger over to flick on the under-barrel flashlight, having led them deep enough so that the outside sunlight ( which was all but gone anyway ) couldn't reach.
A long, narrow cone of searing white light flickered on, turning the tunnel ahead to daylight- for about 15 ft. or so, and about a yard wide. It wasn't everything, but it was enough.
" Lights on ", he commanded, changing gears for a second. Right on cue, half a dozen long tendrils of light stabbed out, with the 1500 lumens beams bursting from the end of the taclights, and showing the way.
That's better...yeah
Marginally.
Now then...
"Hey, Vikara. What was that back there ? Sounded like Afrikaans..."
" That's right, Korporal, it was. Means, ' Filthy animals. They bleed all over. ' "
If there was a more fitting way to describe the scene they'd been wading through, Dekker couldn't think of one right now. After all, Vikara was right about how much of the Covenant's blood had washed down the walls and ground around them- by all appearances, they must've mounted one wave-style attack after another down here, only for the Grunts to get shot to ribbons by the NMPD guys even as they fell back.
And some said cops weren't much for a shootout unless they were SWAT.
Heck...maybe their SWAT team had done this. Or...maybe their patrol officers and detectives were more gunned up than Dekker had expected. Wasn't much of a stretch to go there: all law enforcement bodies had known the Covenant were coming.
It was an impressive display, regardless...
"...That they do. ", he agreed out loud. " So, let's help them do it some more. "
" Sounds good to me, Korporal. Or as we say back home, lekker. "
A slight grin tugged on one corner of Dekker's mouth. He couldn't help it.
I like this one.
She's got some fire.
It was nice. He wasn't sure what it could fully mean, but it was nice anyway.
Still, he had to stay on task, and so he did. Directly ahead, the long, hooked and literally bloody tunnel they'd been following finally began to even out. It'd run right into a yawing wide and square shaped opening, similar to the one above ground.
And, it was a big one. The space behind the gap, that was. It was wide enough to drive a delivery truck through...or possibly a tank. And even if you couldn't get a tank through that gap...
A dark one, though. Just like the tunnel they'd come down.
Woah...
We've got room to to cover here...
Dekker raised a fist high, and again, the others caught the cue right on the mark.
there was plenty of space to stash one on the garage floor that they'd just arrived on. There had to be at least half a football field's worth of floor space here...even if you counted the pillars that were holding the roof up. The whole garage was just splayed out, like a cavern, on either side of the entrance...
" Spread out. ", he ordered. " Watch our six...Vikara-scan the right. "
" Got it. "
The others called out that they'd understood as well, and hurried to do as he said.
Meanwhile, Dekker swept his muzzle- carefully- around, scanning the layout of the garage via the BR55HB's adjustable scope. Via the glow of his underbarrel TacLight he quickly found that the garage wasn't empty, because at the end of it, directly opposite him, was a ring of what seemed to be SWAT armored vans. They were bulky and blocky enough to do the job, and they all had the White bird logo on their sides...
Smart move, whoever came up with that, he noted, as he continued to look around.
Hold up...
Got more dead Covies over here-
Damn. A lot more.
There was no need for the zoom setting for this...so Dekker pulled back, and let the TacLight handle it. That proved to be about as easy as he thought...because of the puddles and mini-lakes...
...of Covenant blood. Blood, and dead aliens where it'd all come from.
" Squad ! ". He pitched his voice up a notch. " KIA hostiles, on my 12. Get me a few more lights over here. "
" Gotcha, Korporal ". A light on the right swung over.
" Yes, Corporal ". A man on the left, sounding very French, also pointed a beam.
Blood, blood, and more of it, all around them. Grunts and Brutes ( but, oddly, no Jackals ) lay dead, surrounded by their own life fluid. Some were on their backs, others were facedown, and yet more were on their sides. Some where pointed toward the trucks,while others had been going for a flanking maneuver before getting gunned down. Holes, seeping and ringed with dried tracks of blood, stood out like cherries on a snowbank across their bodies, many of which had fallen on top of one another.
One or two lay alone, here or there, but most were were still grouped up, blending their cyan and purple blood to create cobalt-colored ponds. More of them deep blue stuff was all over the many corpses, causing them to shine like glo-sticks under the glare of the TacLights.
It was a massacre. A slaughter.
And it was the prettiest thing Dekker had seen all day.
Only good Covie, is a dead one.
And I see many dead Covies. Good. Consider that payback for what you did to my town on Tribute, you sons of whores...
Like heat up a chimney, anger rose through him at the memory of his annihilated homeworld, but it was tempered by the sight of so many of those responsible lying dead while coated with their own blood. More than a few were also contorted and bent with a way that suggested they'd died very painfully...which was even better.
They deserved no less for what they'd done, and finding them like this was cathartic as heck. No doubt, most of the others thought the same, as there was a strong chance their own home colonies had been glassed by the aliens during their genocidal rampage toward Earth. They all were owed a taste of revenge for that.
Yeah...yeah I know the Marine Corp actual mission statement is to protect and defend Earth and her colonies from all enemies, foreign and domestic. Well, that's what were doing, aren't we ?
Nobody said we can't get some of our own back as we do.
Besides, these bastards burned Tribute. Burned her, so I'll kill them.
Despite the rising suppressed rage, Dekker exhaled, and willed himself to focus. And, to enjoy the spectacle...for just a second.
It was all he could spare, but it was enough.
But, aside from the slaughterhouse display itself...there was one other thing about the whole scene that was jumping out to Dekker...
Where are their guns...?
...There aren't any of their guns lying around. There should be..
But, aside from the slaughterhouse display itself...there was one other thing about the whole scene that was jumping out to Dekker...
Where are their guns...?
"Squad. On me- we're checking out those trucks. Move up ! "
...and with that, they were back on the road.
Shouldering his BR, Dekker strode forward, and the others followed.
They began to cross the breadth of the garage, as the feeble overhead lamps ( what few that were still online ) did their best to keep the place lit, even though they were completely failing. No doubt the Covies had cut the power feed to this place, thinking it'd give them a better shot at breaching the station.
As things had turned out, that wasn't so.
At least the ventilation systems were still running, filling the air with a distant eeeeeeevhmmm, eeeeeevvhmmm noise. It was pretty much the only sound there was right now...aside from the clack of the squad's boots.
They were now weaving their way around and between the dead aliens, though the Grunts were hardly much more than stepping stones. One or two boots came down on the crab-like hands ( or Gorilla-like, for the Brutes ), which prompted a burst of profanity from whoever had put their foot there.
And...there was also the return of the scent of all that cleaning-solvent-blood. The bodies hadn't been around long enough to rot, but it was close enough.
" Man, I'd love to meet the badasses who did this ", Vikara expressed her admiration for the local law. " They cleaned house down here ! "
" Yeah. You'd think it was either Army or the Corps who could handle the Covies for a fight ", agreed the Jarhead with the French accent. " Guess these ones are more like them than I figured. "
The South African chuckled. " Probably because some are descended from old-school SADF. Like me..
...Fascinating.
I might've guessed, but thanks for the cinch.
" They're a tough bunch. That's for sure. ". Dekker stated, wholly agreeing with them. " If they rolled back an attack like this, they're probably still holed up. "
" Well, why didn't they leave, then ? If they're as tough enough to wipe out a Covie squad...", pointed out the French Jarhead.
" Orlan, how about this: ", the Corporal turned to him. " When we get to them, you can ask first. Sound good ? "
It probably wasn't what the other Marine was expecting right then, but his slightly off-guard reaction didn't last,
. They'd finally reached the ring of trucks by then, where there was a gap between two of them at the center that was just wide enough to easily fit through, even with full gear and flak vest on.
Past it, about a few yards away...
...was exactly what they'd been searching for all along !
" Got a door here...", Dekker called to them.
" Lock light's engaged. "
Well, that made perfect sense. If the NMPD guys had been slugging it out with the enemy on and off for the past few hours, they wouldn't be so stupid as to leave the doors unlocked. That just went without saying- even a 5 year old would get that. No, they had to have pulled back deeper within the station...but had the common sense to cover their rear as they did.
Smart.
Dekker glanced upward, expecting to find a security cam. And, he did- there, nestled within a recess high above and to the right of the door. Well placed, without a doubt, as its current position would make it hard to spot, if you didn't know where to check. Then again, anybody going for a burglary/ terrorist attack on a police station wasn't generally the brightest bulb there was- because if they weren't, they'd be doing something else.
Aha...
There you are.
Good thing they weren't here for anything remotely like that, needless to say. Biltong was here to lift the siege of the castle.
The cavalry had arrived, and Dekker let himself nod with satisfaction. Things were going pretty good.
Now, could they stay that way..
Only one way to find out.
He punched up the comms again. " Captain ? Captain, Corporal Dekker here. "
" Reading you, Corporal. Send traffic. "
" We've cleared the garage ", the Noncom reported, as he began narrating the recent events. " Mostly empty...save for a bunch of SWAT vehicles arranged to form a barricade. Its around one of the doors leading to it...I think the law around here isn't quite finished yet. "
It was tempting to go full optimistic- and he couldn't say some that hadn't leaked out- but he had to stay rational here. There was no way to get the whole picture from where they stood, aside from all the many dead Covies scattered around. The only way to figure this all out, and properly link up with any NMPD officers left, was to get through the door, needless to say.
Still, all things considered, Dekker had a good feeling about this, no matter what he had to say.
" Copying all, Corporal. Did you find additional Covenant remains, besides the dead ones that are decorating the tunnel ? "
" Roger that, Ma'am. ". As he spoke, Dekker waved ahead Orlan on the left, while signaling Vikara to go right. If they had to pull a breach on this thing, he wanted them ready..
" Yes, Captain. About a few squad's worth of dead Covies, ahead of the barricade. They made a play to get through, but they got stopped cold. "
There was a moment of silence on the other end, as Korsan processed the report. The delay that followed was long enough to be a hesitant one, but enough so that she must've been thinking on what needed to change.
Good officers are worth pure palladium, the NonCom was reminded. And, not making hasty calls without being under on-the-spot pressure was definitely a plus on that.
A few seconds later, Korsan spoke again. " Any sign of NMPD personnel ? "
" Negative. Nobody's here, not even bodies. Spotted an online security cam, so they might be on their way to get the door for us. "
"..Understood. But, Corporal, we can't afford to wait. If they don't show up within the next few minutes, make your own entrance. Copy ? "
" Copy that, Ma'am. How's it going topside ? "
Can't be that bad- haven't heard any plasma going off up there yet.
And, sure enough:
" No sign of activity yet, but that could change any minute. We've lost the last of the daylight, though...and turning our lights on just paints a target on us. If we're going to be extracting anyone, we're gonna have to hustle, understand ? "
Urgency had began seep through her tone near the end there, and Dekker got it completely. As strong as the perimeter may ( or may not ) be, the Covenant would always have more bodies and guns to throw at you then you'd have to stack against them. It was one of the first lessons that longtime vets of the decades-old fight against the Covenant that Dekker had heard- the aliens were not lacking for numbers.
Or excessive firepower.
Basically, every second counted.
" Loud and clear, Ma'am. We'll make it happen. "
" And we're waiting on you, Corporal. Step lively. Korsan, out. "
Yeah...the noose is tightening.
Clock ticking, etc, etc. Let's speed things up...
" Sounds like things are getting hot up there, ay...? ", observed Vikara.
" Yeah, that's right. ", Dekker affirmed. " Covies are putting the squeeze on us. We've got to get through this door. "
He turned , and addressed a scar-faced Jarhead who was armed with a Plasma rifle. " Hudson ! Run a bypass. "
The scarred Marine nodded briskly, and jogged forward without a word. Reaching the door, he carefully set the Energy gun down against the wall, before fishing through one of his armor pouches, and removing a spoofer.
" Careful- those things are expensive ", cautioned Orlan, though only half-seriously.
Hudson, once again, didn't say anything. Actually, Dekker couldn't remember him saying more than 10 words since they'd met, even though that'd been barely an hour ago. On the other ( and more optimistic ) hand, he didn't seem like the sullen, brooding sort...but, more like just a laconic kid who wasn't all that chatty.
Kind of like Jennifer from back home. She was weird that way as well.
Hm. Maybe this one'll open up when things settle down...
Talkative or not, though, Hudson was efficient. It took less than 30 seconds for the Spoofer device to do its job- which was concluded by the door's lock light switching from fire engine-red to emerald-green.
Un-locked. Now, they had their way ahead.
" Done, Corporal. ", the technical Marine announced, as he removed the hacking tool, and re-stowed it.
" Good job. ", Dekker praised, as Hudson stood, and retook his place in the squad.
He shouldered his own rifle, and let a finger rest beside the trigger. " Everyone, on me ! "
We're finding out what's going on...
Right. The heck. Now.
Waiting just long enough to hear the acknowledgments, Dekker squared himself up against the door. He threw a quick glance to double check they were all where they were supposed to be, and found that they were.
Vikara's closest, as my second, Olan's further back...all's good.
Let's rock.
Adrenaline was shot through his veins, right on cue. Riding the wave, Dekker reached out, and hit the door's switch.
It slid open , with a muted hrmmmmm...
...and revealed a heavily armed NMPD officer who was jogging their way !
...Woah there !
Hold up !
" Woah ! Son of a- ! ", cried the officer, as he stopped dead where he'd been going, nearly tripping with that kind of a sudden stop.
" Friendly ! Friendly ! " Dekker raised a fist high, elbow bent.
Vikara stepped forward. " Got a live one here...! "
And how, was what Dekker thought, but didn't say. The Police Officer before them looked like he was ready to slug it out with a gang of Brutes on his own, judging from the volume of firepower he was toting. Besides the standard issues service handgun ( one of the M6 series, obviously ), he was brandishing an M90 shotgun, and had a bandolier of ammo pouches slung across his Navy-Blue police flak vest, mercenary style. And on top of all that, he was lugging around a DMR as well ! Exactly what model, Dekker couldn't be sure, but did spot the muzzle of it, sticking up like a straw from behind one shoulder. More pouches, no doubt containing its ammo, and more for the M6, bulged from their places hanging on the officer's utility belt.
It...well, it was a walking arsenal, was what he had.
Are they all loaded for bear this much ?
Either they're making a terrible mistake by becoming pack mules...or it was their only real shot at stemming the Covies.
Honestly...actually, yeah. Don't know which I'd rather go with.
As unexpected as it was, though, there was still no room for gaping like some high school girls. They were on a mission, and one that had a lot riding on it.
Dekker hid his surprise by quickly lowering his weapon, then checking the Officer's name tab. " Okobe ", was the one listed.
Gonna butcher that pronunciation...
Ah, well...
"..Officer ". Dekker nodded. He didn't want this to be an awkward staredown.
" Oh, thank God ! ", the NMPD man exclaimed, exhaling as if he'd been running on " Hardly dare to hope " mode.
" Lord, Christ, and his angels...backup ! "
And...then the other side of the coin became clear. Dekker's attention had been fixated on all the guns getting hauled around like they were part of a Rambo impersonator's outfit, but now he noticed that
" That's right. ", the Marine confirmed, moving up a bit. " Corporal Dekker, UNSC Marines. You're not here by yourself, are you ? "
Thankfully, the Officer wasn't too out of it to respond to that on the dot. Dekker had spotted Sergeant's chevrons on the sleeve rank patches, so this guy wasn't some rawhide who'd joined the force today, and been tossed to face an alien attack on his very first day, a la Racoon City style.
That, and all that gear wasn't hanging off him haphazardly. A rookie would probably do that. Chips might do that. But, not an NMPD Sergeant, evidently.
Well, not this one, at least.
But...he did take longer than Dekker thought to answer. Somehow, he thought it'd be quicker...
"...No. But... nearly. "
He exhaled, and averted his gaze for a second or so.
Looking back, he eventually went on. " Aliens have been putting this place under siege. We've burned through most of our ammo, and only about half of us are fit to fight. Worse, we've got civilians with us . All of them scared stiff, but we don't have anywhere to bring them. We're all stuck here..."
Pausing, he glanced behind Dekker , to the assembled Jarheads and GIs waiting just a few yards away.
"...Well, maybe we still are. But, not alone, at least... "
There was a light huffing sound from behind and right of the Corporal, before a strong South African voice commented, " Basically, ' Welcome to the frigging glue trap, mukka. ' "
Okobe shrugged, as if he'd figured the same thing out way before. Which he must've, if he was still here.
" Were you making a run for it ? ", Dekker queried.
We literally met you at the door, on your way out...
Heck of a coincidence otherwise, if you were coming to check.
" Come on...". He tipped his head toward the hallway he'd come down, turning aside to clear the way.
" If you're here to extract us, I'm pretty sure you'll just need a few M12 Troop Carriers..."
With that less-than-optimistic-but-not-all-the-way-dire teaser of how the Police were doing at their improved fortress, Okobe moved off, and there wasn't much for Dekker to do, but signal for his squad to get moving again.
" Last one through the gap, seal 'er up ", he commanded.
And, pray we haven't just trapped ourselves.
Again, he couldn't say it, but it was true anyway.
Not us, but the others outside as well...
At least there was power here, as opposed to the garage , which was practically lit by torches.
By here, that was the stairwell the squad was currently ascending. The ceiling above still had its light tubes burning bright, which kept the shadows back, and none of them were going on and off. It certainly made things easier.
Take your optimistic signs where you can.
Then again...it also showed off dried blood spatters and trails that were decorating the steps. The caked red stuff still gave off that copper perfume, and stopped and ended over and over up to at least a third of the way up, where it all ended at a landing. Clearly, the NMPD had ferried their own wounded away from the holding action at the door below up here, before performing some stopgap battlefield medicine.
They'd also done their best to clean it up. But, how well they'd pulled it off was...hard to call. Lots of smudges, and boot scuffs had layered it with dust and grime, muddying it to a bronze.
I swear...I won't let anybody trash talk the NMPD again after today, Dekker swore to himself.
For surviving this ? They deserve more.
" Merde, ", Orlan murmured. " Hard fought defense, Sergeant Okobe. You guys are proto-Marines. "
" Aliens didn't give us much choice. ", the NMPD man responded, as they traversed the abandoned field aid station, before heading up another flight. " Just continued throwing themselves at us. Literally, sometimes. We just shot 'em down...we were on autopilot. "
I know that feeling.
Been there.
" That's often the the thing that saves your life ", observed Dekker. " Let your training run your when it needs to.. ", he elaborated, as he spared a quick check on his BR55HB's ammo counter.
36...
Yep. Still topped off.
"..and you always know when that is. "
" ...True. But I expected to be serving parking tickets and wrangling drunks for my law enforcement career. Maybe a few armed robberies, or gang fights. I didn't expect the Covenant to ever actually find Earth...", admitted Okobe.
There was still fight mixed with his voice, but...maybe disbelief as well. Disbelief of a Cop who was fighting a global alien assault on Earth, when this morning he'd been conducting traffic stops around town on the smoothy paved streets, and responding to calls of fender benders, or citing someone for littering. Now, though, they were hip deep with a Covenant army ! The Covenant ! The same aliens who'd overrun Reach...were now on the NMPD's doorstep.
The very same. Of all the seismic shifts on what your day on the job could be, this was off the top end of the scale. How the Police had managed to stand up to the Covenant, even with their HQ building possessing the kind of military-grade blast-doors and firearms that it did. They were still cops, and you wouldn't
They were a tough crowd. Dekker had no doubt of that. Still...it struck him as a bit of a stretch.
Just a bit...
Best not to voice it, though. Not now.
So, rather than that, he went for something that might actually raise some spirits for the NMPD man. " Well, consider us a Godsend. We've got a bunch of AFV's , and an Elephant waiting outside your front steps, with a dozen and a half fighting angry Marines and Troopers, plus an ODST Sergeant, all ready to put even more hurt on these Covies. "
It may not have had the same ringing tone as a recruitment video, what with it being off the cuff, but it ended up doing a slam dunk job anyway. Okobe stopped short again, before turning on the spot and pulling a 360-
"...Say that again ".
Fresh and real surprise was on his face now...along with...well, along with hope. Eyebrows were up, and he staring right at the Marine NonCom for the first time.
Again, Dekker felt like a Sergeant...and again, he wasn't sure he liked it. But, he'd had to say something. It wasn't just the mission that made him say it; anybody who was a Civvy, or not a Marine ( especially those ODSTs, Good Lord ) or Army Trooper who fought that hard against the Covies needed every molecule of help and encouragement they could get.
Between those two, how could he not ?
" Its no pipe dream, Sergeant. Your front cameras must've been shot out, because if you open the blast doors, you'll see our modest army waiting right there. ", Dekker stated, meeting the other guy gaze to gaze.
" Modest ? Korporal, we got Grizzlies ! ", Vikara reminded him.
" Grizzlies ! ". Now Okobe was hooked. " Don't pull something on me now, Marines. Yeah, you're right about the cameras, but this is the last straw, what you're offering here."
Should've led with that sweet detail. Grizzlies are no run of the mill tanks- they're all you could ask for. Anyone's morale would get a boost from them
Agh...
Well, anyway...
Dekker pointed up past the NMPD man, up the stairs and toward where he guess the front entrance was. The staircase switched back at least once more, so he couldn't be completely sure, but it was still the way to go either way.
" Call ahead, and tell 'em to lift those shields. When we get up there, they'll see it for themselves. We've got your back, Sergeant. "
He damn well meant it, too. Korsan and her column hadn't blazed a trail through Covie-contaminated territory to leave anybody behind.
And, Gunny Buck. The ODST was worth a squad on his own.
"...Ok then. Let's get your posse on the horn. "
On that note, the Policeman turned, and continued jogging up the stairs, as he fished his radio off his belt, and began speaking to it. A few steps behind , the mixed bag of Marines and Troopers kept pace, going on and on upwards as their many boots hammered out a rthymn on the concrete.
They kept going, and after ascending another flight, they were finally at the top. The stairs didn't go any higher, but there was a door with a lock panel there to greet them.
Which...was blood red.
Great. Its locked
" Here we are...". Okobe stopped. Switching the shotgun to his left hand, the other reached out, and thumped a fist on the door 3 times, then once more after a pause.
" Officer Tenk ! ", he called . " Tenk ! Open up ! "
" Sure...sure, one second ! ", came ( another ) strong South African accent from the other side.
Half a sec later, and then the lock blazed green. The door slid open, and on the other side stood a woman who looked like she could be Margot Robbie's sister- if the strands of sandy hair emerging from under her patrol cap were any sign. She was clad with a NMPD Patrol Officer's cobalt blue ( nearly black ) uniform , and her chest was covered by Police-issue SWAT armor, and a gauze strip held down by surgical tape covered a wound on her left cheek.
Unlike the UNSC squad's escort, she was not loaded up for bear, but there was still an M6 snugly fitted at her hip...and plenty of dust and more street grime decorating her all over.
Must've been one of the officers holding the line outside...
No about about it
" Ay...You weren't ***king around, Okobe ". A grin emerged on Tenk's face- a slight one, but still grateful to the bone.
" Do I ever ? ". The other Cop pointed a thumb Dekker's way. " Here's your proof. "
" Yeah...him, this lot here, and the all the ****king Grizzlies you said they had ! Jesus- I didn't believe it till I saw 'em out there. Twin guns and all... ek se."
She'd been talking fast, and it hardly slowed down near the end. Whether that was from adrenaline, pain meds, or just how she usually was, Dekker couldn't be sure.
Tenk reached out, and clasped Okobe by one shoulder. " Prayers are answered, friend. Amaz said we're down to 3 spare mags for everyone, remember ? "
" Not no more, though. Now...we got our way out ! ", she declared, as she let him go.
You have no idea how right you are, honey.
No idea...
But I'll tell ya anyway.
" You got that right ". Dekker stepped forward. " We got the space for at least a dozen more aboard the Elephant. If we don't we'll pack the Elephant like a Sardine can. One way or the other, we're getting you all out of here. "
It was then that Vikara spoke up, no doubt pleased to meet another Afrikaaner. " Speaking of which...how many ya got ? "
Recognition of someone of her own people flashed
The sense of triumph at how he could clearly see now that'd they brought hope to this bunch of die-hards was like a drink of cold water...or oranges. It felt like a victory, basically, and victories were hard to come by these days.
Granted, they had to actually evac them for real before any back-patting could get going, but...they'd made a huge leap that way. There were surviviors here ! And there was plenty of vehicular transport to carry them all away.
Aside from how many of them could be, how much of an issue was it, anyway ?
Oh, damn...
Yeah, that's right..
Dekker nearly made a finger snap and " Oh, shoot ! " motion combo on thinking of it, but he didn't. Probably for the best too, because Tenke was quick to give him an answer.
" Ah...you said you got room for 12 ? "
Well, an answer of sorts, anyway.
That, and Dekker caught the briefest flicker of...something, on Tenk's face. The Corporal wasn't sure what it was, though. Just some brief twitch of muscle, as thought ( or two ) crossed her mind. No doubt, though, it had something to do with Dekker saying " 12 "...
Probably, at least...
"...Give or take. ", the Corporal amended, still making sure he sounded confident. " Rounded up a lot of stragglers already. Can't say 100 percent, though- I was riding on a Grizzly. "
" So the Elephant might be stuffed already ? ". Okobe exhaled, then glanced at his colleague. " Not good.."
And...just like that, the wave of " We've struck a real blow against those aliens " that that Dekker had been riding looked like it was going to crash on a breaker, and not wash up smoothly on shore. Something was up...
...and it was shaping to be a real problem.
He had to know.
" Why's that ? You have half the neighborhood here , or something ? ". Dekker didn't want to exaggerate, but...they hadn't converted the station's ground floor to a community center.
Had they ?
Well, he wouldn't have long to find out, because a moment later, Okbe had something to say.
" Not quite. But its way more than just us. "
He turned to the second officer. " Lead the way, Tenke. "Easier if we just show them. "
The other Afrikaaner nodded, clearly already having agreed. " Sure thing. "
She turned away ( revealing that her vest said " NMPD " on its back as well ), and set off at a brisk pace down the hall, beckoning the others to follow.
" Step lively, Marines...! You're gonna want to see this... "
Yet again, there was nothing that the UNSC personnel could do, but stick close. They trailed her, down the well-lit and tiled hallway , decorated with a fire extinguisher or two secured by lockers mounted to the walls on either side.
More blood ? Didn't seem to be- because if there had been any, it must've been cleaned away. The strangely pleasant-yet-still-chemically-stinging odor of cleaning solvents was hanging around here...which meant there was a good chance they'd done some literal mopping up.
Not the first thing we were trained on back during Basic, on what to do after a firefight...
Strange things happen on the battlefield, though..
What wasn't strange, though, was that Dekker really needed a drink by now. After that heavy firefight to even get here, plus the competing scent of Covenant blood and what had to be decon fluids, his mouth and throat were crawling with a annoying powdery, dusty feeling that was demanding to be drenched.
There was even some weight at the base of his canteen, as well. That wasn't the kind of thing that you'd forget was there, or that you wouldn't remember soon. No, he definitely had some water left...enough for a few long gulps, at a minimum.
Geez...
Maybe now would be good.
Maybe-
No.
Yeah...and there was the rub. As much as he wanted that drink...there could be some folk waiting for him- the aforementioned " others " that could need it more.
And, he didn't have much longer to think on it, either, because a second or later, Tenk stopped before another door. Its lock was glowing green- a first for any of the doors Dekker had seen around here.
The Afrikaaner put a hand on the lock control, ready to activate it, but before doing so, she faced the Marine and his squad once more.
" Welcome to the New Mombasa Police Department, mukka ".
She said it calmly, and that was real, but also with an undertone of " You're going to have your hands full. " For reasons even himself couldn't answer, Dekker didn't doubt her.
So, he let his head bob as a gesture of understanding. " Roger. Let's have a look. "
On that note, Tenk then did exactly that- she hit the door lock, and opened it. Dekker at once strode forward, crossed the archway...
...and then found himself surrounded by a borderline shantytown.
Good God...
He nearly halted right there, blocking the others, but remembered not to, and managed to move off just enough to clear the way. His BR55HB, which had been always gripped hard by at least one hand, stayed that way, but the same couldn't be said for his jaw, which'd come open. Just slightly, but enough.
He couldn't help it.
Because...there were-
"...Marines ?! "
" What ?! UNSC Marines ?! Where ? "
" Right over there, man ! Look, by the door...! "
And so on...
...by least 2 dozen civvies. Well, roughly, given the mass of multicolored outfits that was filling the cubicle-filled space. The mass of civilians had hunkered down among them all, sitting or curled up on blankets and sleeping bags that were rolled and laid out wherever they could fit among all the partition walls, office chairs , and desks. Jugs and bottles of water ( or, for the containers that were opaque, probably water ) were dotting the clear spots on the floor, or set up on top of whatever was smooth and hard enough to keep them from falling over.
There were about half as many cops there as well- all of them armed and armored. Some were like Okobe, with multiple firearms hanging off them as well as the ammo, where others were like Tenk, and were running a more streamlined loadout with just their service handguns or/ and a rifle. Either way, however, they were doing what they could do tend to the civs, as some moved around with them while answering questions, giving them snack bars and other packaged stuff they must've scored from vending machines, and just doing their best to " be there ", so to speak , for the ones who were especially spooked.
Dekker couldn't get a read on all their faces all at once-and he knew he was no expert- but after the first few seconds of just observing, he already had seen that much. And had several of the civvies who were looking his way, with astonishment, hope, or what had to be both all over them.
Geez...
You weren't kidTding, Tenk.
" Told ya so, Jarhead. "
...I said that aloud.
Slick.
Mentally slapping himself for the slip-up, Dekker nonetheless pushed right on- there was nothing else to do.
Not to mention how those civvies who'd seen him first were already getting up, and headed over ! A cop who'd just handed a can of some kind of sparkling drink to a mussy-haired teenage boy was also one of them, albeit trailing back a bit, clearly willing to let the civs ask their questions first.
He had to know they were the desperate ones here.
" Ay, this is what being a Jarhead's all about...", murmured Vikara, who was once again on Dekker's right.
" Aside from killing Covies , that is. "
" True...".
Dekker had hardly expressed his agreement, before a civ stopped a few feet away. He looked like a banker- stocky, short well trimmed beard, with the buttoned down long sleeved outfit of a suit that was missing the jacket.
" ...Sergeant ? ". He looked right at Dekker, examining the rank markings on the Marine's shoulders- which were muted of color, because of him being " outside the wire ".
" Corporal ", Dekker had to correct. The whole potential- Sergeant thing still wasn't his speed...yet.
" Corporal Dekker, USNC Marines. "
" Oh...ok. I thought...". The man trailed off for a moment, but soon came back, along with more of that Civvy-brand of hope.
. " Well, Corporal Dekker, thank God you and your squad are here. I thought the Covenant were coming back...and even with the doors shut, I thought at any moment.."
He stopped, as if not wanting to think of what might've happened, before finishing with exactly that. " Well...like I said, thank the Lord you got here first. Please, tell me there's a army of you nearby. "
" That's our secret, sir. ", declared the cop behind him.
Tall and broad shouldered, with the same uniform and gear as the rest of the ground floor bullpen cops, and with a dusting of stubble on his jawline that was nearly a beard, the Officer approached, and addressed the Marine, putting out a hand. " Captain Zeke Numare, New Mombasa Police Department. "
...Numare !
...And another Captain.
The name was like a a memory sparking firing -immediately, Dekker remembered that woman they'd found who'd been using that car back at Safari Plaza as a hiding spot. The one who'd been hunkered down there like she expected a Wratih to run it over at any moment..
And the one who was so pregnant, she looked like she might enter labor any day. Yeah...her. She was Numare as well.
Which could only mean...
Well, unless...
...No. Doubt it. She did say he worked here.
Has to be the guy we're looking for.
Has to be.
Blinking for a second, Dekker got it together , and asked what needed to be asked, as he shook the proffered hand. " Sir. Do you know a...Jeena Numare ? "
Again, things were as quick as a spark, taking just a second or so to process. The reviously strongly composed features of the NMPD officer just like that had a new one to go with them:
Relief.
He closed his eyes, and breathed out the way a man who'd gotten good news can.
"...Thank you, Corporal. I was thinking about them non-stop. Tempted to sneak though Covenant lines on my own just to be sure they were ok..."
Hearing the sincerity as he talked, and remembering that there were two helpless lives at stake there, was all it took to get Dekker's spirits back on high once again. Saving the civvies, and getting them away from the enemy ( the Covenant, here ) where they couldn't hurt them ( and killing as many of said aliens as he did )...
That was a Jarhead's true purpose. Absolutely.
" No problem at all, sir. She's ok, and my team and I are gonna get you and everyone you got with you out of here. That's a promise. "
Dekker was already holding himself to every word. For all the details he didn't have solved right here and now, like whether the Elephant was as jam-packed as it'd looked, or if piling the Civvies and Cops onto the sides of the Grizzlies was an option...he didn't plan to go back on what he'd said.
Partly because abandoning all these folks to the Covenant was just unthinkable to anybody, UNSC or not, but just as much because that's what Marines do.
Yeah. Vikara had been right. Nailed it.
More right than Dekker could ever say.