(17/11/2056 | 09:00)
Break time was up.
As the Commander had planned, and as Corporate had ordered, Griffin operations in Ukraine were back underway. The staff of each sector had been given ample time off. Their stores and supplies had all been restocked. Dolls had been repaired, refitted and ready to get back to their job. They'd even received more of a payout than they expected, with the Military throwing in a pile of cash on top of the charge from the local Government.
Of course that payout was contingent on Griffin not saying a word about the friendly fire incident, but Hsu was keeping mum about that regardless. No need to poke the bear.
In preparation for one of the first contracts back to work, a group of dolls now dithered in Sector 09's main briefing room. Most of the assigned androids had already arrived, taking their seats and chatting away with their compatriots while they waited for those who had yet to come.
The whole room reflected that of a University lecture hall, with eight chairs side by side, five rows back with rising elevation. A simple stage and podium rested at the bottom, with a holographic projector which laid out whichever presentation had been prepared for whichever mission. StG44 stood on that stage now, checking the notecards that G36 had prepared for her when she mulled over the odd roster for this assignment
Almost everyone assigned to this mission was an Echelon Lieutenant.
BAR, StG44, AUG, Saiga-12, and M590. Even M16A1 and Makarov had been roped in, despite the former not being part of a regular combat team and the latter still being part of a two-man band.
Again, it was odd. Odd enough that everyone else had taken note.
"Still can't believe this." BAR grumbled aloud to any who'd listen. "While all the Captains get to wine and dine in the city, we've gotta go get ourselves dirty?
"Shit rolls downhill, Blondie." M16A1 mused, BAR scoffing at the idiom.
StG44 turned her nose up, visibly disgusted. "What does fecal matter have to do with this?"
M16 laughed at the German's confusion, but M590 piped up from her seat off to the side. "It's a saying. Means stuff that people higher up than us don't want to deal with becomes our problem."
StG bristled in understanding, while Saiga still looked quite perturbed. "Why make it about something disgusting then?"
"Because soldiers are foul mouthed savages." AUG offered to the audience.
M16's grin only grew at the Austrian's insult. "You're gonna make me blush, your holiness."
AUG rolled her eyes at the veteran's blithe attitude, meanwhile Saiga got up and moved a row away from the foul mouthed soldier. StG44, all the while, sighed as she set her notecards down on the podium. Even if she was no longer a team Captain, Commander Hsu had placed her in charge of this operation. Which meant that she had to keep her peers in line, despite the… colorful personalities that made up the base's Lieutenants.
"The Kommandant and our Captains were personally invited by the Governor to be guests at his event. Which means it falls to us to execute the mission in their place." StG44 told the six other dolls sternly, her gloved hands gripping the sides of the podium. "Each of us are capable tactical dolls, and we carry the trust of our leaders to successfully complete our objective."
"Yeah, we know." M590 shot off. "Everyone here's a badass, still sucks that we gotta do this."
"We sure the shorty counts as a badass? She looks more like a desk jockey." M16 said, throwing a barb in Makarov's way. The AR doll grinned over at Makarov, seemingly throwing out some good natured banter.
Makarov didn't respond to her, though. She simply spoke to StG44 directly. "Why were you given leadership over the rest of us?"
StG44 frowned back over to the Commissar. She knew Makarov by reputation, and she knew that the girl preferred calling the shots. Answering to her usual Captain was routine, but having to take orders from this German she didn't know seemed to ruffle her feathers.
So, StG44 coughed into a fist, leaving an explanation of her appointment. "Of all the dolls present, I hold the most experience in a leadership billet. Both as an Echelon Captain, and a Sector Adjutant."
"Plus she's schluppin' the actual adjutant." BAR fired off from on high, a series of snickers and laughter rolling down from the other dolls. StG44 fumed from her post, glaring death up at the snarky American. A gaze that had little to no effect, BAR literally and figuratively looking down at the irate German with a smug look of superiority.
StG44 reigned herself in, not acting on her urges to march up the path and slug her slanderer in the jaw. She knew why BAR had said such a thing, both she and Garand had been giving herself and her team leader the cold shoulder ever since the end of the last operation.
Besides, there were ways she could get some payback during the mission.
As the laughter settled down in the briefing room, the doors opened up as the final trio of dolls made their way in. Mosin led the pack, humming an old Soviet warsong loud enough that all eyes gravitated to her. Behind her, AR-15 and A-545 marched in with as much distance they could put between each other as possible. Both elite dolls practically hugging the walls as they kept a hateful glare locked on the other.
StG44 frowned down from her pedestal at the grandstanding Siberian. "You're late, Yuri."
"Late? Me? Never!" Mosin proudly declared to the presiding doll. "The party always begins when I arrive!"
"This is not a party, it is a-." StG44 began to rattle off, stopping as she felt herself getting worked up all over again. "...Nevermind, please sit down."
Thankfully for StG44, they all complied. Mosin moved up to sit next to Makarov, AR-15 shuffled through to plant herself next to her sister, and A-545 eventually found her way next to Saiga-12. With all the dolls having arrived, StG gave one last look to her notecards before grabbing the remote on the podium. She then pointed it up at the holographic projector, turning the device on.
A stream of pixels poured out, falling down as it mimicked gravity's pull. The multicolored cubes would bounce off the stage like a river of ice, before locking together and forming a connected shape. Morphing into a long row of boxes, and finalizing itself into a sprawling map. Different routes spread out like rivers drawn by rulers, straight until they sharply turned one way or the other. Most of which lead to a singular circle, dead in the center.
"Today's mission will be protective security." StG44 spoke to the onlookers, turning up the volume of her voice module as she began the briefing in earnest. "This is the Kyiv Metro. Daily, over four million unique passengers ride on its trains. It is one of the largest underground systems in Eastern Europe, and as such, it is also one of the most profitable."
StG44 then pressed a button, focusing on the three railcars that were at the tail end of the train. Each appeared as a plain looking steel box, lacking any windows or hatches. Only a handful of ventilation ports on the roof of the traincar.
"Twice a month, a special train with several cars rides through each of the lines." StG44 continued, not wanting to leave room for any snark or sass from the peanut gallery. "These are money trains, at each stop they are loaded with cases of currency taken from the vendors and machines. Tonight, one of these trains will be traveling."She then blew the projection back out, the map of the Metro coming back to full view. One line in particular began to glow red, the longest of all six routes. "Normally, the Interior Guard handles protection of these cars. However, the Ministry of the Interior is unable to provide their usual detail. As such, Griffin has been contracted by the Governor to act as security. We will ride on the train for the entirety of its trip. Once along the whole length of the red and green lines, and again back to Kyiv Central Station."
Finally, StG44 lowered her hand, looking over to her compatriots. "Questions so far?"
"How much money we guardin'?" M16 asked their presenter.
StG44 paused, looking down to her notecards once more. "Roughly… goodness, that's a lot of zeros."
Mosin's hand shot up, a greedy gleam in her eyes. "I have a proposal!"
"We are not robbing the train." StG44 laid out flatly.
"Killjoy!" Mosin protested. Yet, StG44 didn't budge. She simply motioned for the woman to sit back down. Mosin eventually complied, Makarov giving her a disapproving elbow that made the woman yelp. Something that StG ignored as she stared up and waited for anyone else to voice any questions or comments.
When no one spoke, she continued.
"We will also be responsible for picking up all of the money. At each stop, we will be dismounting from the train, taking custody of the funds from the ticket stations and kiosks above, then moving them inside." StG44 explained, a barrage of groans leaving the audience. "I know, I know. Make sure you wear gloves, heaven only knows how filthy these sacks and coins will be."
"Of course that's your priority." AR-15 grumbled, displeased that she was being thrown into physical labor like some common A-Doll.
"It is a good priority to have." Saiga-12 said, a dark cloud hovering over her head as well. "I will have to put my clothes through a double rinse cycle once we return."
StG44 made a mental note to do the same. She already planned to do her own laundry this week, seeing as her usual routine would be disrupted. Though there was a good chance that people would complain about her and Saiga hogging the machines again.
"In case during the mission I become incapacitated, Miss M-Sixteen has been designated as the succeeding officer." She continued to announce. "The Government has requested we also operate under a veil of secrecy, as to not cause undue alarm for civilians in the Metro. Therefore, we will be stowing our primary firearms onboard-."
StG44 pointed her remote at the projector again, zooming in on the model of the rear-most train car. "-here, with some of the cash reserves. This will also provide us with a rally point in case we come under assault."
The seamstress then moved onto a new image, the projection deconstructing and reconstructing itself into a mannequin wearing a blue uniform one piece collared dress with a blue wedged cap and short black pinstripe tie. Yellow trim hung off of the cuffs and hem.
"These will be the outfits provided. We'll be presenting ourselves as attendant dolls that are employed by the Metro, and will act accordingly." StG said, before zooming in on the belt and pouches on the uniform's waistline. "As you can see, the uniform leaves little to the imagination. But we've modified one of the pouches to be able to be used as a discreet pistol holster. Make sure you stop by the quartermaster and sign one out before we leave."
With that, StG44 moved onto the final image. A list of names rising up from the ground and continuously scrolling up as it emerged from below. "As I'm sure you have all noticed, every doll here either possesses an elite designation, holds an Echelon Lieutenant Billet, or both. This was done intentionally due to the high sensitivity of this mission. We're here because Herr Kommandant trusts us, and that we will not besmirch the reputation of this unit. Which means that once we get to the train, we must commit ourselves wholly to this task."
"Which means you need to take this seriously." Makarov muttered to Mosin, tone low while StG44 continued her grand and dry speech about pretending to be common A-Dolls again and guarding a bunch of money.
"You don't think I would actually rob someone." Mosin defended, looking insulted that Makarov had seemingly taken her seriously.
"Not without cause." Makarov assured. "But this mission will not be as laid back as you think."
"You know something?" Mosin asked.
"I always know something." Makarov answered cryptically, having tuned out the German's voice almost entirely. Unlike everyone else, she'd actually read the mission dossier. "The Bratva has taken advantage of the war, and the Government's weakened state. There is a strong chance they will strike."
"So why not delay the collection?"
"Because it is still uncertain if there will be a robbery. Besides, the city government needs that money." Makarov pointed out. "You know as well as I do how much the war drained the Motherland of her resources. We had to loot for food in Latina."
"I still have scars from when that farmer stabbed me with his pitchfork, but at least we got the potatoes." Mosin remembered, phantom pain flaring up in her lower back. "Robbing an old man was shameful."
"If the tankers had not blown up the power plant, we wouldn't have had to take such drastic measures. We did what we had to so we could survive." Makarov said, noticing that StG had finally stopped rambling. The other dolls had already begun to mill out, which gave her and Mosin the cue to rise to their feet.
"Even so, I am not proud of it." Mosin muttered.
"That makes two of us." Makarov answered, before she spotted the target of her interest. As A-545 made her way down the steps, Makarov followed behind. Curious as to what the handgunner was getting up to, Mosin quickly pursued. As A-545 was about to exit out the door, Makarov fired off a whistle to get the doll's attention.
A-545 turned her head, spotting Makarov and Mosin waiting at the base of the stage. She traced her way back, expression placid.
"Comrade Mosin. Comrade Makarov." A-545 said, standing at parade rest before her two superiors. "You both seem to be enjoying one another's company a good deal as of late."
"Being around Mosin helps to build my resistance against lethal stupidity." Makarov told the KCCO doll dryly.
"Right, I'm helping-. Hey!" Mosin said, putting a hand on top of Makarov's hat and pressing down so it went past her ears and over her eyes. "Don't belittle your elders!"
"You are only three years older than me." Makarov reminded Mosin with a muffled voice, pushing her hat back up and revealing her eyes back to the world.
"And don't you forget it!" Mosin insisted, A-545 watching the discount Abbott and Costello performance patiently. As the comedic duo sorted themselves out, Makarov coughed into a fist and carried on the conversation.
"Would it be safe to assume that you are acting as a liaison for the government yet again?" Makarov asked the doll directly.
A-545 held her neutral expression, looking down at her peer as respectfully as she could given the difference in stature. "What makes you think that I was not chosen for this mission due to my aptitude?"
Makarov and Mosin said nothing, merely sharing a disbelieving look with one another before both leveling the same disbelieving gaze unto the newcomer. Mosin's reflecting that of an elder indulging a child, Makarov's soaked in her usual dry disapproval.
A-545's desire for professionalism began to crack against the force of her own ego. "Is it really hard to believe that I'm capable of discretion?!"
"Absolutely." Makarov answered without any hesitation.
"You are wearing a skinsuit that presses into your belly button." Mosin followed up, before tapping one of her boots. "And heels."
"It's a combat jumpsuit!" A-545 insisted.
"Is that why it pushes up your boobs?" Makarov said, as if jabbing her with a cattle prod.
A-545 stammered, her decorum becoming an afterthought as Mosin stepped in to help her junior. "Her breasts may be filled with ballistic gel. Mine are."
"Why would they even use breasts as ballistic prot-." Makarov asked, the answer coming to her before she could even finish the question. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at nothing in particular. "I hate men."
Mosin snickered at the handgunner's declaration, meanwhile A-545 continued to glare at the two interlopers. "Fine. Yes, I am here as a liaison. Gosbank wanted to ensure there was a Government doll overseeing the operation."
"Good. We need to talk then." Makarov said, before flicking her eyes over to Mosin. "Privately."
"First she insults me, then she shoos me away." Mosin complained with a sarcastic sense of hurt.
"When we finish this mission, I will buy you a bottle of Ketel One." Makarov rattled off, happy to bribe her old comrade into shutting up and doing as she was asked.
"...Apology accepted." Mosin reneged, before heading out to collect her equipment from the base armory.
As the door closed behind her, Makarov paced back over to the stage. The white haired doll sat herself down, crossing her legs before letting her laced together hands rest atop them. She looked up to her blonde counterpart, ready to get properly to business.
"So. Tell me why the Ministry of the Interior refused to provide men."
(11:00)
Hours later, the girls made their way to Kyiv's Metro depot.
It wasn't too long of a trip. The ten of them had picked out their equipment, loading themselves up into a van with Kalina at the wheel as she drove them to the station. The logistics officer assured them that she had already organized for their primary firearms to be transported aboard ahead of time, and that their disguises would be waiting for them at their destination.
Most of the dolls didn't pay much mind to her though. They were too busy fighting amongst one another for the best seat the whole way there.
When they'd eventually arrived at the depot, and the group all tumbled out of the van, StG44 whipped everyone back into shape. The designated leader led them inside, past security and into the back rooms where they met the head of Metro security as well as a few engineers. They were given another briefing, this one more technical in how to operate the train and retrieve the rubles from the vending machines.
After the meetup, StG44 then handed out assignments. Four dolls would stay aboard at all times, four would bring the money aboard. StG44 and M16A1 would float between the two assignments. The goal was to look as inconspicuous as possible, and judging by the uniforms provided, no one would be able to tell they were anything more than faceless dolls in service to the city.
With everyone organized, they prepared to board the train itself.
The subway train was long, but unassuming. Its windows had all been covered up by plastic shades, hiding the contents of what lay inside to prying eyes. Its outside had been painted red and yellow once upon a time, though the livery had grown old and cracked as paint chips flaked off. At the front, the electric-powered engine waited for the controls to be taken up.
As StG44 stepped up onto the train, her eyes fell on the multitude of safes that lined the car. So much money, so close to her. The things she could do with just a fraction of it. An early retirement, one that would let her leave all this stress behind and go back home to what was left of Berlin. Buy a simple townhouse and spend the rest of her days doing whatever she pleases.
She wondered if G36 would go with her. Though that thought perished from her mind as soon as it came, seeing as she and the maid weren't on speaking terms at the moment.
"Looks exactly like the hologram." M16 observed, following her appointed leader as she tugged at the outfit they'd been forced to wear. Ties, she didn't mind. But skirts this short and vests this tight bothered her.
StG44 hummed, looking over at her erstwhile second in command. She had to admit, M16 wore the outfit well. Though she had opted to don her eyepatch instead of using a prosthetic eye. It made her stand out like a sore thumb, especially seeing as most service companies didn't like to employ dolls with cosmetic defects and damage.
"Something on your mind?" M16A1 ask, cocky grin locked and loaded as always.
"Um… why do you use an eyepatch?" StG44 asked trepidatiously.
M16's grin grew at the question. "Y'know, it's considered rude to point out people's blemishes."
"I didn't-." StG44 said, backing off before bowing her head in apology. "Sorry, I am not trying to make you uncomfortable."
"Takes a lot more than that to make me uncomfortable." M16 said with a chuckle, leaning back against the train car door as StG lifted her head back up. "I keep the damage as a memento. It's a long story."
StG nodded, a small smile coming up as she eased herself further into the conversation. "Then it is a good thing we shall be spending the day together."
"I'm not complaining, long as Thirty-Six doesn't get jealous." M16 added on, before wagging a finger at StG's right bicep. "Besides, I'm not the only one wearin' something that stands out."
StG44 looked down at what M16 was pointing out. Her armband, donning the colors of the German flag. Like the rest of her uniform, it was clean to the point of sterilization. But unlike her outfit, or even the outfit she usually wore, it was also well worn. The fabric was creased and stained, with tears dotting the edge. The seal of Brandenburg was emblazoned onto it as well, a red eagle on a white backdrop, wings spread with claws out and mouth agape.
"...I suppose it's also a memento." StG44 admitted, tugging the accessory back up her arm.
"Looks familiar." M16 admitted, flicking her eyes back up to StG's eyes as she tried to recall where she'd heard of the accessory before.
StG44 quietly shrugged, choosing to not feed M16's imagination. Though neither had much of a choice to think about the prospects, their radios chirped to life. AUG was reporting that the passengers were beginning to make their way from the ticketing hall to the platform, which meant that it was time for everyone to take their posts.
"So, who's going where?" M16 asked as she stepped back out to watch the wave of humans and dolls that were making their way towards them.
"AUG, Five-Four-Five and Makarov will stay with the train. AR-Fifteen, Saiga and Five-Ninety will bring the money aboard. Mosin will drive the engine and Bar will stay with her." She laid out, using Zener to mark each of the assignments onto the map of the train that all of them had downloaded.
"Why put Bar with Mosin?" M16 asked. As far as she knew. BAR wasn't very mechanically inclined.
"So I see as little of her as possible." StG44 answered with annoyance. "And because I know being stuck in a small compartment will drive her stir crazy."
M16 snickered at the mission leader's petty malice. "Bad enough to bother her but not enough to get her to complain to the Old Man. Clever."
StG44 smirked, sitting down in the booth to let herself rest. It felt strangely soothing to be in command again. Ever since she'd been demoted to serve as G36's Lieutenant, she couldn't help but feel a gnawing urge to get back into the driver's seat.
Perhaps that's truly why the Commander had chosen her after all. Because out of all the dolls, she really did want this the most. A break from all the troubles of home.
(12:30)
To call A-545 displeased would be the understatement of the decade.
This was their fourth stop on the trip, and a routine had already begun to form. Four girls would leave the train, four would stay behind. StG44 and M16A1 would hover between the two assignments, helping where they felt needed. Which meant that A-545 stayed behind by the train, constantly nearly getting swallowed up by the wave of passengers who sat waiting for an actual subway car. She would have to stand there, sneering at those who tried to board their cash transport by accident. Like a common A-Doll, one that had been mass produced for the most menial of tasks.
She'd had to take on plenty of roles that she saw as beneath her since her transfer to this post. Some of it she'd come to embrace. Though she'd never say it aloud, she'd come to like Echelon Five. Even care for their wellbeing, despite their various… 'habits.'
But this.
Being stuck in a servant's uniform, having to guard a battered and ugly old train while all these humans looked treated her like a glorified toaster. She wasn't supposed to be doing this. She was an elite military-grade doll! Custom built by the KCCO, one of the most cutting edge weapons that the Soviet military and IOP had ever developed.
So how, how in the name of Lenin was she degraded to this?!
"I feel humiliated." A-545 said under her breath as she held her post in front of the doorway.
"There is a simple way for you to not feel as such." AUG offered, sitting inside the train as she casually flipped through a copy of poems. Makarov silently stood on the far side, observing that the Austrian seemed far more interested in the book than the dissatisfied Russian.
"And that is?" A-545 asked, scowling at a small child who dared to try and approach the doorway.
"Get over yourself." AUG said honestly. "The only reason you hate this is because you believe you are above it."
"I am above this." A-545 insisted.
"Reality begs to differ." The Austrian countered, turning a page to The Seafarer.
A-545 hissed venomously, refusing to believe such an idea. She was above this. She was built for great things, in the service of the greatest nation that had ever graced this blighted planet. Despite this brainless directive for them to hide in the shadows when they could just as easily guard this train with their firearms and regular uniforms. Her normal outfit was far more professional than this skirt and coat anyway, no matter what Mosin or Makarov said!
Though the fact that it was still bothering her should have likely been a red flag.
Despite A-545 having a crisis of ego in her own neural cloud, she was still attentive enough to notice something odd around the corner. A girl standing around the corner, taking pictures with a boxy camera. With light-brown hair done up in a pair of twintails, and a scar over her eye.
Three quick clicks, before she ducked out of sight.
"Wait here." A-545 said to AUG sharply, before she kicked off and ran at the corner. AUG paid no mind, standing up and slipping around the corner to take A-545's post.
The Russian ran over to where she'd seen the girl, before turning and bolting up the nearest flight of stairs. She weaved and ducked in between the lines of passengers making their way in and out of the station, before she reached the top and found herself in the metro station's atrium.
As she stood there, scanning the crowd, she couldn't find the girl who'd been spying on them prior. Too many bobbing heads, too many moving persons. Even a doll as perceptive as she couldn't track a needle in this haystack.
"Hey!" A voice called out to her, to which she turned to see the three Griffin dolls who'd been assigned to haul in the money. Each was carrying a bulging burlap sack, far too heavy for a human to carry with ease.
M590 stopped next to her, hefting two of the sacks on her own. She waved Saiga and AR-15 on, the latter of which would give A-545 a stink-eye as they descended back down the stairs. A-545 gave the AR doll a look of disgust, which prompted M590 to draw her attention back over with a quick whistle.
"What gives, why aren't you with the train?" M590 asked as she stood over the rookie.
"I was following someone. They were taking pictures of us." A-545 explained, turning her head to continue scanning the crowd.
"What." M590 said, amber eyes flaring up as her head turned over to the mob as well. "Why didn't you radio it in?!"
"I thought I could catch her!" A-545 protested.
"Are you serious-?!" M590 began to roar back, coolant tube under forehead pulsing out as she fought to keep her cool. "There were three of us up here, we could've cut'er off!"
A-545 could say nothing else, realizing she'd made a grave mistake. She made one more scan of the crowd, trying to no avail to spot the spy who'd evaded her. So she stood there, biting her tongue as she failed to find a way to rationalize her foolish pride.
With a scowl, M590 hefted both of her bags and began to jog back down the steps.
"Come on, we need to tell the others!" She called back, words grabbing onto A-545 by the collar and dragging her along behind the incensed American.
So much for being overqualified.
(12:52)
On the way to the next station, a few of the girls gathered around A-545 to listen to her report.
The response across the board was similar to M590's. BAR and Makarov looked absolutely infuriated at the young girl's hubris, while M16 and StG44 looked down at her in gobsmacked disbelief. M590 sat on the sidelines, while the other girls were scattered across the other cars.
A-545 stood there, bracing herself for impact. It wouldn't be the first time she'd been chewed out by a superior, given the fight she had had with SVD and Saiga during the last operation. But this one felt different. It had the same poisonous air as her final meeting with the KCCO, before she'd been 'promoted' to act as the Government's liaison with this Griffin sector.
She hung on the edge, waiting for StG44's word. But the old German simply deflated, nodding once and gesturing to the front of the train.
"Go help Mosin with the engine, kinder." StG44 ordered. It was a lifeline that A-545 was glad to take, walking past the group and through the door as she made her way to the front.
As the door shut behind her, M16 broke the seal on a fresh bottle. She sat on top of one of the safes, legs dangling over the door. "You wanna deal with her later?"
StG44 shook her head. "She has shamed herself enough."
"I am unsure if she deserves such leniency." Makarov chimed in, turning back to her partially disassembled handgun as she continued to put it back together.
"Couldn't be more of a walkin' Stalin stereotype if she tried…" M590 mumbled over to M16, the latter of whom snickered at the Russian's expense.
"So, what are we doin'?" M16 asked the appointed leader of the operation.
"We continue as planned. All this does is confirm that this train is being targeted, either today or another day." StG44 said.
"So what, you wanna just play dumb and let them swing at us?" BAR interrogated.
StG turned her head slightly, not wanting to give the American the attention she craved. "Shouldn't you be with Mosin at the front?"
"I wasn't doing anything but taking up space." BAR complained
"So, the same thing you're doing now." StG snapped back, turning away from the doll entirely
"Listen here you Commie Kraut shithead-." BAR began to say, stomping up and over to get up into the seamstress' face.
As StG44 and BAR continued to throw jabs and jeers at one another, M590 grew ever more tired of the two going back and forth. The shotgunner stood up from her seat moving over and placing herself firmly between the two battling blondes. She then shoved both her arms outward, pinning both of them against the walls of the car with a dull 'THUMP' that shook the coin racks.
"I swear to God, if you two old-head birds keep gettin' wild one another, I'm gonna get outta character and shove you both into one of these safes." M590 threatened, throwing a glare at both of the pre-war dolls that could only be described as homicidal. "We are professionals, God damn it. People paid the sector a lotta bread for us to be here, and I'm not gonna lose my bonus 'cause you two can't stop beefin'. Understand?!"
Both StG and BAR didn't respond, having thoroughly been put on notice by one of their juniors. M590 gave both dolls another hateful gaze, before letting both of them go and marching out of the cab.
"Join a PMC, Grizz said. We'll get paid, she said. It'll be easy street, she said." She muttered as she shoved past Makarov, knocking the handgunner into her still partially assembled handgun.
"You're not assigned to the engine!" StG called after the shotgunner, desperately wiping her shirt collar clean from the physical contact.
"Bite me." M590 spat back as she kept walking. "Goddamn substitute teacher lookin' ass motherf-."
The final curse was overshadowed by the sound of the door cycling open and closed, with M590 disappearing behind it. M16 remained perched in her seat, enjoying the bottle of Jack she'd smuggled onto the train.
"Damn. You guys managed to make her go full Bronx." The one-eyed doll observed. "Nice work."
"She ruined my tie." BAR grumbled, trying to redo the crumpled knot.
The train would eventually come to a halt as they arrived at the next station. With the original assignments temporarily disrupted, M16 and BAR stepped out to go collect the revenue. AR-15 stayed behind, the log at this station showing that there wouldn't be as much to carry. Besides, if trouble came knocking, it meant she could move to help with her rifle instead of being limited to only a handgun like them.
BAR walked with a malevolent aura cloaked around her. She already wasn't happy about getting dragged out on this job, let alone having to take orders from G36's personal lapdog, but getting thrown to the side like this was a whole new level of insult, and the fact that no one seemed to care was even more infuriating.
Thompson had already shrugged it off, Springfield had been trying to justify it.
Even Mosin, one of the dolls who'd been there to call her out on her cowardice, was telling her to ease up. As if this was something she was supposed to just 'forgive' and move on. After all of the trust they'd put in G36, she was expected to be OK with such a slimy call?
It drove her insane. All of this had made her madder than… she could even remember.
"You're scowling, y'know that?" M16A1 called from atop the stairs. BAR looked up, shaking her head as she dropped the angry expression and walked past the AR team doll.
M16 followed behind her, both walking in the direction of the ticket kiosks. "You know she doesn't want to fight you, right?"
BAR scoffed, going over to the large console and digging a key out of her jacket. "She's been keeping me in the corner for this whole job."
"Yeah, because we both knew you'd be a problem." M16 said, revealing her collusion with StG44 as she unfolded the sacks and bent down to grab the coin racks. BAR stood back up, staring at the back of M16's head with indignancy.
"You're really taking their side? After they tried to leave me, Thompson, Five-Ninety and all those other dolls to rot in Intruder's shitty casting hall?" BAR asked with incredulity. "Y'know I thought out of everyone you'd understand what 'no doll left behind' meant."
"Don't." M16 shot back sharply, her lone eye shooting up to focus on BAR as her hands stopped working. "Don't talk like you understand having to make a choice that far up the chain."
"What, this the part where you tell me you were an officer?" BAR asked skeptically.
"They didn't let dolls with berets as green as mine be officers." M16 pointed out, before she went back to work filling up the payload. "But I know Springfield was. And something tells me her take on this is a lot different from yours."
BAR grumbled at the point, before she crouched down and began to help M16 with her labors. "Springfield's always been more forgiving than most people."
"It's why people like'er." M16 mused, going to pass the now full sack over to BAR while she brought up the second to fill it as well. "But she isn't going easy on Thirty-Six just because she's the forgiving type."
BAR said nothing in response, knowing that M16 had a point. Of all the dolls on base, Springfield was the only one who had a bar on her collar in the Army. Meanwhile the rest of their team had been schlepping it as grunts. BAR was the closest thing to a peer Springfield hand in that regard, and even she only had three chevrons to brag about.
Seeing that she seemed to be getting through to BAR, M16 stopped her work again to look at her fellow American. "How much do you know about the vote?"
"Just what Garand told me." BAR admitted, grabbing a few coins and bills that had spilled out before she began to tie her sack closed. "Springfield kept saying that we shouldn't hold it against her, but…"
"You didn't listen." M16 deducted. BAR nodded quietly, to which M16 went to grab another rack of rubles. "Well, in that case, I'm sure Garand didn't mention that the lovebirds were hissing at each other before Thirty-Six made her vote."
"She… she didn't." BAR admitted, before she looked at M16 in confusion. "Why wouldn't she mention that?"
"Because she was too pissed off to care?" M16 tried to rationalize, shrugging. "Genny's got a heart of gold, but she wears it on her sleeve. Means she gets tunnel-vision. A lot."
BAR murmured, this new information shaking her certainty. But it still left a lot of questions. Why would StG44 try to support G36's vote, even if she didn't agree with it? Or, more importantly, why did G36 vote to cut and run? Was it really out of concern for the humans at the airfield after all? Or was it as Garand had suspected, and because she was trying to save her team at the expense of the dolls who'd been captured?
It all didn't make sense. None of it lined up with the people she knew that G36 or StG44 were, despite this feud.
"Look, you want my advice?" M16 said, having finished loading the last of the money from the kiosk. "Can the attitude for the rest of this job. Then, when we're done, go have a beer with Erika. Talk this shit out so we can go back to being on the same team."
BAR sighed, throwing her back over her shoulder and rising up to her feet. "I'll think about it."
"Good enough for me." M16 said, before she closed the door and hefted up her own big bag of cash. The two then made their way back to the train, BAR looking over her shoulder to keep an eye out for any brunettes with cameras.
They still had a long way to go before this job was finished.
(18:42)
A-545 sat in the rearmost car, still sulking hours after her screw up.
The rest of the day had been going rather peacefully. Tempers had settled down, and everyone had gotten into the tempo of their duties. The first line had been completed, with the first load of money having been dropped off in the central station. Now they had begun work on the next line, as the sun began to sink and night started to enshroud the city. The collection team even reported that it had started to snow outside, with passengers now ducking underground dusted in white.
None of it served to distract A-545 from her ever mounting self-loathing. Despite all of her internal grandstanding and assurances to AUG that she was 'better than this', she did nothing but promptly prove the opposite.
She was now, definitively, less competent than a security guard.
AUG stood at the line of safes, clipboard in hand as she took note of how much money they'd collected. With only a couple of stops remaining, it had fallen upon the girls to now tabulate how much revenue they'd gathered. Counting each of the coins and paper notes, cross-checking with the projected estimates and the noted amount of sales, and documenting it all for the city's bureaucrats.
Once in a while, she would catch a glance over at her dejected partner. Despite her desire to ignore the moping Muscovite, her desire to get this work done was far stronger. So she would set the clipboard down, making her way over to A-545 and towering above the girl.
A-545 tilted her head up, staring at the bleach blonde Austrian with apathy. "...You were right. I am not better than this after all."
"I was hoping that revelation would lead you to work without complaining, not abandon our work entirely." AUG observed, pulling her sleeve back to check an expensive looking wristwatch. "We shall be arriving at the penultimate collection within the minute. The sooner we count our currency, the sooner we can return to our domiciles."
A-545 sighed, pulling herself up and patting away the fresh creases along her uniform. "I never thought I would feel this useless."
AUG shrugged, turning away and walking back to the safes. "You are out of your element. A doll that was created to kill will not be as capable at these tasks."
A-545 pursed her lips, moving to join the other doll. "Is this how you felt during the operation against Intruder?"
"It is how I feel in every combat mission, not only our last foray." AUG corrected, undoing the lock on a safe and pulling out a few racks of coins. "Be that as it may, we are all Tactical Dolls now. Our pasts matter little, only our capacity in the present."
"If that's the case, then I truly did make a mockery of myself." A-545 muttered, her self-loathing rising back up.
"To learn humility, one must often be humbled. This only needs to be a fruitless day if you do not learn."
A-545 scoffed, letting her eyes scan the coins as her digimind automatically calculated the amount. "Has anyone ever told you that you are unbearably clinical?"
"Blame my programming." AUG said, digging her feet into the car's steel floor as they came to another halt.
A-545 looked up at her, now confused. "Your programming? Why would a church worker need to be clinical?"
AUG was about to answer, when the door to the next car opened up. Makarov stepped out and over, looking to A-545 and pointing outside.
"Come, the others need help with this haul." Makarov ordered, stepping onto the platform before A-545 could offer any verbal resistance. A-545 muttered something distasteful, quickly writing down the rest of her math before sliding the paper over to AUG and jogging outside.
On the platform, the rest of the dolls were waiting for her. Each one had several sacks slung over their shoulder, with M590 coming over and offering a pair to A-545. She could already feel a phantom pain haunting the metal in her spine, but took them both without any resistance. After such, the pack of dolls made their way up to the station's reception.
Like most of the other train stations this far away from the city center, this one was both crowded and run down. Crackled tiles and old paint lined the floor and walls. Some lights above flickered on and off as their power flowed through frayed wires. As more and more refugees fled the spread of Sangvis and ELID, more backed into the city's outskirts. As such the upper and middle class inhabitants fled further into the heart of the city, leaving the scraps and slums to those that remained.
"Filthy, filthy, filthy…" Saiga muttered over and over again, keeping her sack held close as she tried to keep herself as small as possible. She dodged the snow-dusted locals with a speed that rivaled a submachine gun doll, not wanting to be smeared in dirt.
"This is despicable…" A-545 muttered as she observed the downtrodden state of her countrymen.
"This is the world we live in, kid." M590 told her, digging a euronote out and passing it to a homeless man sat against the wall to her left. "Doesn't matter if it's here, Moscow, London or New York City. Not enough space, too many mouths."
As they reached the kiosk box, all could see it's battered state. Marks around the panels showcased that people had tried and failed numerous times to break in and abscond with the contents. Put on alert, and knowing how much attention was beginning to shift over to these colorfully dressed dolls, A-545 and Makarov took up guarding positions.
That was when A-545 noticed a familiar figure. Light brown hair, pigtails, and a scar over her eye. Yet again, she had a camera. Yet again, she was taking pictures.
A-545 immediately diverted her gaze, before she activated Zener.
"Makarov, to your left. Bearing Zero-Two-Nine behind the staircase wall." She quickly messaged the doll next to her. The handgunner looked over to A-545, unimpressed at the request. Despite that, she shot off a reconnaissance ping, scanning the ticket hall as the wave overcame all who were present.
That was when Makarov realized who A-545 was talking about. As alarm entered her eyes, she alerted the others as they gathered money. A-545 continued to fire messages off via Zener, alerting both StG44 and M16A1 as Makarov marked their stalker for everyone to see.
Sensing that she'd been made again, the photographer scurried up the stairs once again. A-545 got ready to run, until she looked to see the strain that Makarov was under. The handgun doll seemed to be trying to focus in on the fleeing subject, using all the bandwidth she could muster from her neural cloud to keep tracking her.
"Five-Four-Five, stay where you are and keep Makarov safe. The others will continue to move the money." StG44's voice rang, the odd underwater sensation of Zener shaking A-545's digimind.
"What about the scout?!" A-545 asked, before her eyes fell upon the answer. StG44 sprinting up from the depths, jumping over the turnstiles and darting between riders before she bolted up the same set of stairs that her quarry had used to flee.
In seconds, StG44 reached ground level. Snow had already begun to fall in the mid-November night, the cold chilling her circuits as she broke off in a sprint to follow the marker that still hovered in her HUD. All the while leaving pings behind her so that the others could follow her trail once their objective had been secured.
Two blocks down, she found the terminus of the marker. It hovered at the third floor of a dilapidated tower, an open air garage having been converted into a storefront. Inside she could see three figures hovering about, each one dressed in ragged winter clothing. Their electronic signatures gave each away as dolls, and behind them she could see the only entrance to the upper floors.
So, knowing she had little time to waste, StG44 sauntered forth.
The shop was a ramshackle pawn store, bits and bobs resting on shelves and hanging off of hooks. The first doll eyed her with confusing, not understanding why a train worker had come all the way out here. The second sat working on what seemed to be a digital watch, soldering iron in hand as a battered Stalhelm with a skull and crossbones painted on the front. The final figure stood behind the desk, eyes flicking up at StG44 with disinterest before he went back to reading his newspaper.
"Can I help you?" The man behind the desk asked, his skin lined with ink scars that were unfamiliar to StG.
"Yes. I'm looking for someone who may have passed through here." StG44 answered, keeping up a polite demeanor despite her digimind screaming at the filth that surrounded her.
"No one's come through here before you." The man said dismissively, turning the page of his reading material.
"You are a poor liar, Mein Herr." StG44 answered back. The man's gaze lifted up from the newspaper, focusing up on StG44 the same way someone would hone in on a bug before crushing it with their flyswatter.
"I am simply looking for that doll with the pigtails." StG44 pointed out, holding her gaze with the uncooperative shopkeeper. As she said this, the other slum stricken doll stood up, grabbing a metal reach stick while the damaged one continued to solder the watch.
He sneered, pulling his glove off to allow a set of spikes to punch out of his knuckles. "You really don't get the hint, do you?"
"There are two kinds of people who do not take 'hints.' Those who don't know any better-." StG explained, before turning around to stare down the other thug with annoyance. "-And those who know better than you."
The old watchmaker laughed, eyes flicking up at StG44. But now that the doll had turned, he was finally able to catch the armband that hung on StG's right sleeve. All at once he dropped what he was doing, standing up to his feet.
"Uh-." He said, gathering StG44's attention. She gave the damaged old man a glance, letting him speak. "...Danke, Frau Fähnrich."
The man then gathered his things, slapping the battered steel helmet back onto his head and shuffling out of the pawn shop towards a beaten up Lada.
"Du auch, der Greis." StG called behind him before he promptly mounted up in his car and tore off, nearly running over a motorcycle that was trying to cross the way. She then turned to glare at the doll still brandishing the metal rod.
"Well?" She asked the man, who promptly stepped back and threw the reach rod behind him.
Finally, she turned around to face the shopkeep again. The doll retracted the spikes back into his hand, slipping his glove back on. "Ah, so, how can I help you?"
"The girl. Please." StG44 asked once more, still ever so polite as she smiled at the man.
(18:59)
Not long after, StG44 dragged their secret admirer back to the train by the scruff of her neck.
An assortment of dolls were waiting for her in the rearmost car yet again, though now all their focus was on their new captive. The doll meekly sat on the ground, pink eyes frantically zipping between person to person. But most of all, she seemed to fall back onto M16. The presence of the one-eyed warrior stirring a mix of dread and relief. As if she couldn't tell whether this old doll in particular was going to save her or terminate her.
M16 stood up, walking over quietly before she squatted down before the abducted doll, empty bottle of whiskey still in hand.
"What the hell are you doing here, Nine?" The Anti-Rain Matriarch asked.
"Uh, um-." The scared girl stammered, looking up and around to see that Makarov had gotten off of her feet and was slipping on a pair of nitrile gloves.
"...Vacation?" UMP9 said, laughing nervously before her situation dawned on her. M16 looked unamused, going back up and walking over to her chair again.
"She's all yours, Makarov. Don't make a mess." M16 instructed, letting the short Russian pass her.
Makarov shook her head as she moved, taking out a digimind spike. "Too conspicuous. Better we leave her chassis intact and let the FSB take her."
"Just don't break the law or Griffin protocol." M16 reminded.
"Wait, wait, wait! Time out, hold on!" UMP9 stammered, backing up behind and around StG44 so she could use the older German's legs as a shield. "I'll talk, I'll talk! Don't hand me over to the Feds!"
"Then start talkin' before I let her get to work." M16 demanded.
"Fine! OK! Just tell me what you want to know!" UMP9 frantically caved, knowing what Soviet authorities did to rogue androids. She wasn't getting paid enough to risk being sent to a Government oil drilling camp.
"We'll start with who hired you to scout us." StG44 said, twisting UMP9's attention up to the doll whose legs she was still clinging onto for dear life. "And please get off of me!"
UMP9 nodded her head so fast, it looked like it was about to fly off. She scurried back around, standing up in the middle of the Griffin dolls.
"We… don't know who the contractor is." UMP9 said carefully, a shriek leaving her as she saw Makarov activate the digimind spike. "I'm being serious! I swear, we don't know!"
"Your crew isn't stupid, and your boss wouldn't take a contract from someone without a name attached." M16 said, very much not believing the plea of ignorance.
"This would go far easier if we just let me rip her datafiles out." Makarov chastised.
"And fry half her circuits in the process." M590 pointed out.
Makarov scoffed. "She's a criminal, who cares? Her ilk were planning on robbing this train, thinking we were a group of innocent laborers."
"Enough." StG44 boomed, pulling everyone's attention back towards her. UMP9 spun around again, her few remaining nerves slipping away as she realized the odds of her leaving this train in one piece were plummeting.
StG44 could see the doll's obvious fear. Unlike M16 and Makarov, she took some pity on the young doll. "...Give us something to work with, child."
"They're… they're Bratva. Local Bratva." UMP9 explained, trying to throw out whatever she could. "They sent the job over with payment in advance, it was huge! Too much money for them to be small-time!"
"And what did they want you to do?"
"Just to take pictures and scout the train out! I didn't even know what you guys were carrying!" UMP9 insisted, doing a circle to show her outfit off. "See? I'm not even armed! Why would I rob someone without a gun?!"
"Because you've got buddies with guns waiting for us." BAR rationalized.
M590 thought for a moment, then shook her head. "They would've gone after STG when she chased her down. Her crew wouldn't let her get caught if they were here."
M16 grunted in agreement, walking over and wrapping an arm around UMP9's shoulders. The doll grew tense, wires going taut as she felt her danger warnings spike all across her digimind.
"Where is the rest of your crew, anyway?" M16 asked with faux pleasantry, wearing a snake's grin that bore all of her fangs proudly. "Or did you actually get sent out here on your own?"
"...I told her I could do this on my own." UMP9 admitted in a small voice, eyes going down as she tried to speak so only M16 could hear her. "Guess I was wrong, huh?"
M16's grin broke as she could hear the girl's confidence die in real time. Despite herself, M16's sisterly instincts kicked in. She gave UMP9 a pat on the shoulder, pulling her arm back and moving to stand next to StG44's flank.
"I think that's all we're gonna get out of her." M16 quietly advised the operation's commanding doll.
"You're clearly familiar with her and her coworkers. What do you believe we should do?" StG44 asked, knowing it would be best to delegate to the more experienced party.
M16 smirked, ever grateful that a professional had been appointed as leader for this operation. "Follow my lead."
With that, M16 stepped forward. She took UMP9 by the arm, 'yanking' her over towards the door. "Come on, let's go."
UMP9 immediately went back into panic mode, stammering as she was overpowered and dragged off back to the platform.
"And where are you taking her exactly?" Makarov interrogated, moving to follow the two.
"To the cops Stg called for. They're waitin' upstairs." M16 fibbed, giving UMP9 another pull so that both dolls absconded from the Russian's line of sight. Makarov's advance stopped, turning to look at StG44 for confirmation.
"I sent a call while I was chasing her. They should be here by now." StG44 said, lying outright as she stepped over to the door as well. "Stay here, finish counting the money. We still have another stop."
The others shared a look, but none seemed to want to defy a direct order. So after lingering for a few moments, each eventually broke off to join the other dolls in other cars to finish up their work. After which, StG44 slipped out and went to follow M16A1 and her captive.
They all made their way through the crowd once again, before reaching the snow-covered street. Once all of them had arrived, M16 relinquished her grip, letting UMP9 step out.
"Wait. Where are the cops?!" UMP9 asked frantically, seemingly having fallen for the con herself.
"You and I both know if you got put in a cell, you'd get broken out before sunrise." M16 said, pulling out her flask and turning the cap. "We're cuttin' you loose. You told us what we needed to know."
UMP9 yelled out in joy, going over to wrap her arms around M16 for a hug. Instead, she was met by M16's extended arm, running face first into the girl's palm with a deft 'SMACK'.
"Not so fast, I'm not doin' this for free." M16 clarified, giving UMP9's head a soft push so she could stumble back out onto the sidewalk. "You're gonna owe us both for this, lettin' you go and lyin' to our team."
UMP9 gulped, nodding once again as she took full stock of her situation. "W-what do you want me to do?"
M16 looked over to StG44, letting her get her pound of flesh first. The elder German coughed into a fist, returning to the cold once again wreaking havoc on her internals.
"The men who ran the store I found you in. Are they with the Bratva?" StG44 asked. She didn't care for favors, she just wanted this mission to be completed without any more delays.
UMP9 shook her head. "They're some of Fourty-Five's contacts."
"And have you sent the photos you've taken to your employer?" StG44 probed further. UMP9 once again shook her head, her camera having been seized and was now left behind in the cash-train.
"Sehr gut. Report that the metro has appeared to have hired additional security. Dolls, all male, well armed. Two dozen of them, in and out of the train." StG44 instructed, whipping up a quick fantasy for this girl to sell to her unknown employer. "Make up a story that will get them to forget about robbing the metro, ja?"
"Ja wohl!" UMP9 said earnestly, giving the older German a stiff salute. StG44 rolled her eyes, waving the girl off as 9 then turned to look at M16.
"I didn't say I was gonna cash my favor right now, kid." M16 said, taking the wind out of UMP9's sails before she shooed the rogue submachine gun doll away. "Get goin', you'll catch your death out here."
UMP9 pouted at being shunned so quickly, but knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. The doll quickly collected herself, giving both Griffin dolls a small bow and a grateful 'thank you' before she scuttered off in the direction she'd ran prior. Soon enough, she disappeared into the night. The only evidence of her ever being there were the footprints she left behind in the snow.
"You're sure she'll do as we said?"
"When the leader of her crew finds out that Griffin's contacted for this job? Yeah." M16 assured, taking a long swig of Jack as she let the sensation burn its way down her metal tube. "Thanks for the trust, by the way."
"Oh, I didn't do it for free." StG44 with a smug smile, spinning around to return to the metro staircase. "You're writing the report for this. Have fun."
"Oh, come on!" M16 yelled out loud, watching the self-assured German walk down the steps and out of her line of sight. With a groan, she finished off the last of her whiskey, realizing she was going to have a long night ahead of her.
Even as a mercenary, she couldn't escape paperwork.
(22:22)
The rest of the night went off without a hitch.
The girls made it to the next station, finishing their collection before traversing back to the central station. There, they took the collected revenue and brought it up to the main floor. From there, it was passed onto the metro's administration, who they promptly informed of their findings during the guard job.
The officials seemed pleased, grateful to the girls for a job well done. They even passed out a few vouchers, letting the group have free reign to purchase some goods from the various stores and restaurants that dotted the station. Something that the girls gladly took in hand, spreading out to go splurge with their newfound gains. Even if most of the stores were more expensive than those at an actual mall, free goods were free goods.
Which left StG44 on her own, for the first time that day. Once again in her usual attire, she stayed behind long after the others had left. The doll at the counter of a pub and spending the remains of her little bonus getting a good drink. This place had been imported from her home in-store, and she had half a mind to drink it all.
It had been a stressful day, but she felt like she could relax for the first time. A good drink in her hand, a bag full of new clothes in the stool next to her. Normally she'd think twice about drinking from a mug she knew had been used by God knows how many people before her, but she was too tired to care.
That was when she heard a set of footsteps behind her, and she turned her head to see a familiar face.
"Did the others send you to collect me, Herr Hsu?" StG44 asked as the Commander sat down in the other stool next to her.
"They know you can handle yourself." Hsu assured as he scoped out her bottle. "Is it good?"
"There is no such thing as bad German beer." StG44 promised, letting a smile leave her as she flagged the bartender down. "Barmann, another bottle of Schwarzbier."
The bar doll nodded, grabbing another bottle of the blackened bottle from the cooler. He dug out a chilled glass as well, popping the bottle open before sliding the bottle over to Hsu. The Commander took it, opting to not use the glass and drink directly from the bottle. The coffee-like flavor hit him first, sour on his tongue, but after a few more sips, he started to develop a taste for the lager.
"Decent." He assessed, setting the tall glass back down as he wiped some of the foam away.
StG44 smirked in satisfaction, downing the rest of her bottle before tapping the counter for another refill. "So, why did you come find me?"
"Wanted to talk to you about your performance during this op." Hsu said. "Five-Ninety told me she had to pull you and Bar apart."
StG44 sighed, expecting this. Mission complete or not, she and BAR had made complete asses of themselves. She knew someone would complain, and it didn't surprise her that M590 was that someone. The shotgunner seemed to have little tolerance for people's antics.
"This feud between us needs to end. We cannot go into combat like this." StG44 said, her logic systems coming to the same conclusion as her emotional module.
"Agreed." Hsu said, taking another long swig from his bottle. "...Which is why I'm pulling Thirty-Six from combat operations."
"She's not being transferred, is she?" StG44 asked, her concern for her partner evident.
"No." Hsu assured, much to StG44's clear relief. "She's still going to be one of my adjutants, but I can't have her calling shots in the field with people questioning her intentions."
StG44 nodded, accepting the choice. It was the best possible solution, given the circumstances. No matter her true intentions, confidence in G36's leadership had taken a hit. It would be some time before many of the dolls, not just BAR and Garand, regained the same trust that they'd had in her prior to this whole debacle.
"...She told me that the reason she wanted to flee the area was to protect you." StG44 told the man, grabbing her mug and chugging the rest of the bitter beer down.
"To protect the base." Hsu tried to correct, StG shaking her head as she put the emptied mug back down onto the counter.
"She said the base, she meant you." StG44 insisted, exhaling as she let the chilled lager hit her digimind. Normally she wasn't one for inebriation, but tonight, being drunk felt better than being sober. "You know what happened to her before she joined Griffin, Herr Hsu. How she lost her first master. It still haunts her. I've seen it. It's a regret she will never be able to escape."
Hsu pursed her lips, well aware of his adjutant's circumstances. There were still some times that she seemed to slip into her old habits, calling him by her former Master's name. Every time she did it, she apologized. But she also looked hurt, the memories coming back from the life that had been taken from her.
StG44 sighed, undoing the tie around her neck as she stared at her empty mug. "...She would die for you, Kommandant. She chose you over the mission, and she will do it again. Any time she thinks you may be at risk. Losing you would… I don't even know."
"Is that why you told her you needed some space? Because you think she chose me over you?" Hsu asked, growing concerned that this had spiraled into some kind of jealous reaction. StG shook her head, scoffing at the very idea.
"No. I'm avoiding her because I told her not to lobby in favor of abandoning the prisoners. She didn't listen, and now I've been dragged into this muck." StG said confidently, giving the man a sly, if not condescending smirk. "I know she only has eyes for me, Mein Herr. Gretel is as loyal to me as she is to you or her siblings."
The sass wasn't lost in Hsu, but he was happy to hear the news either way. "Well, it's driving her up the walls, so do me a favor. Kiss and make up, eh?"
"I will tomorrow. As angry as I am… I do miss her." StG44 admitted, wiping her mouth clean with a napkin. "So, when does her replacement arrive?"
"Her replacement came with me, actually. She's coming over from a nearby sector so it wasn't too much of a hassle." Hsu said, standing up from his stool and grabbing his bottle. "You two are pretty familiar, from what she told me. So I'll let you both catch up."
StG44 looked at the man suspiciously, but he said no more. Instead, he shuffled back out the pub's entrance and into the rail station's concourse, waving to someone who was out of sight before he disappeared from view himself.
In his place, a doll came around the corner. A woman with long white hair and peach colored eyes, a black peaked cap with an iron cross brandished upon it. She wore a buttoned up black leather vest over a white frilled dress, an iron cross hanging from her neck and embroidered black heel boots going up past her knees.
StG44 stared at the doll, grabbing her mug and looking inside to see if it had been spiked. The newcomer giggled lightly, walking over to the girl's shopping bag as it rested on the stool. She leaned forwards, peering inside with amusement.
"My my, is that a sleeveless blouse? I never thought you'd have it in you, Erika." Kar98k said teasingly.
Realizing that this was, in fact, reality, StG44 grumbled as she turned back around to face the bar. "It's for my girlfriend, not you."
"Aw, how sweet." Kar98 mused, before her eyes fell upon the torn armband on StG44's sleeve. "You're still wearing that?"
"Believe it or not, it helped me during our assignment today." StG bragged, tugging the accessory further up her sleeve. "Sometimes it pays to have a reputation."
Kar looked unconvinced, traipsing around to stand on StG's opposite flank. "Bold of you, considering the amount of Americans assigned to your base. I doubt they would be pleased to have a member of the Brandenburg Partisans working alongside them."
"Rich, coming from someone who fought in the Volksarmee." StG parried back, before lifting a finger and turning to face her old friend directly. "Speaking of Americans, does your sister even know you're here?"
"Of course she does! Savannah was overjoyed when I came to see her!" Kar boasted happily, before she reined in some enthusiasm. "...She seemed strangely disconcerted when I mentioned my new post, though."
"Heaven knows why…"
"Hush, you." Kar heckled before sitting down. The two girls shared a chuckle, smiles abound.
"It's good to see you again, Lorelei." StG told the sharpshooter. "But what are you doing here? I thought you were still assigned to Special Operations."
"I got bored." Kar said plainly, running a finger around the cusp of the cup that Hsu had left behind. "The same mission over and over again. Go in, assassinate a ringleader, get out. And of course, my spotter refused to rejoin me."
StG44 rolled her eyes. "Sadly for you, I quite like it here. Even considering current circumstances."
"Hm. Yes, quite." Kar98k said, having already been briefed into the quagmire she'd willingly stepped foot in. "Well, neither of us are needed for the rest of the night. Which means you can help me get up to speed about my new subordinates, ja?"
"I suppose…" StG pondered, before wagging a finger at the selection of expensive bottles that were lined up against the wall. "...If you're buying."
Kar scoffed, insulted that the woman would insinuate otherwise. She pulled out a jet black credit card, tapping it twice on the counter before pointing at an engraved bottle. "Barmann! That one! And get us some pretzels, bitte!"
"You think Ukrainians know how to make good pretzels?" StG asked skeptically.
"I think he'll find some when he sees the limit on that card." Kar said. "And if he can't, we can find a bar that can."
"Picky picky…" StG warned, though she knew it was to no avail. Kar had champagne tastes and pockets deep enough to sustain her bourgeois lifestyle. The benefits of having been a celebrity before joining the ranks of Griffin, perhaps.
So, StG44 let her take the lead. Knowing that even if Sangvis had been dealt with, the coming weeks were certainly going to be no less frantic with her around.
A/N: Yeah uh, I'm late again. At this point I'm going to stop promising quick drops. Still going to try and get these pumped out as fast as I can, though.
Until next time
o/