"FAL." Radio contact from KSG came without much fanfare, putting the emphasis on efficiency over anything else.
"Copy." FAL checked her weapon.
KSG took several seconds to respond, which FAL took to mean her attention as largely elsewhere. "Go in five."
"Understood." No further information came from the other Doll, although FAL could not bring herself to be surprised, given what knowledge she did have. Of course that left nothing to do except check, and recheck the expected paths of Sangvis patrols, as compared to the position they currently occupied.
"We are on guard duty?" Five-seveN asked the question verbally, having sprawled out on the floor, seeming unconcerned with the situation at hand, although FAL could see the other Dolls fists clench and unclench, and her eyes darting side to side, mapping out the room. "You might need to play cleanup."
"Ballista?" Five-seveN nodded, and FAL returned to her previous task. "I doubt it. She appears satisfied with the conclusions to that situation."
Five-seveN sat up, dusting off her arms. "Maybe, but she's also not usually sticking her nose into other people's business. When is the last time she actively got involved in a situation herself instead of getting someone else to solve it for her?" For once, Five-seveN conveyed none of her smug amusement, seeming genuinely curious.
"A long while." Long enough the occasion didn't immediately come to mind. "For now, I am inclined to trust her judgment."
"We'll see." Five-seveN loaded her weapon, the sound ringing in the natural environment. Seeming satisfied with her pre-combat rituals, Five-seveN headed for the doorway, or the remains of it. There, she stopped, long enough to catch FAL's attention. "Are you sure your little scheme is good?"
"Little scheme?" FAL couldn't say she had a good guess as to what that one meant. None of her current plans and thoughts qualified as 'little' at least in her eyes.
Sighing, dramatically, Five-seveN leaned against the wall, the barest hint of her smirk visible. "Don't play dumb with me, Captain." The subtle drop in tone, not far enough to be mocking, but enough to put an edge in the words put FAL on alert. She knew that tone. "What makes you think she is worth following?"
"And what makes you think she isn't?" Leaning her weapon against the wall, FAL's eyes narrowed, fixed on Five-seveN. The other Doll always did these things for a reason, but for FAL could not figure out just what that reason was.
"Outside of knowing exactly nothing about her?" Five-seveN waited a few beats, as if expecting a reply. "It's not like you, FAL, to just let a chance slip by. To give up, and let someone else take the lead. Least of all, someone like her."
"What is this really about, Five-seveN?" FAL did not have the time or energy to play this game, not today, not now. Maybe when they were back on base, she could find the space to mentally and verbally dance, playing the sorts of games that formed the twisted underpinnings of their dynamics.
The tension remained, Five-seveN's smirk lingering. "You really mean to tell me you don't want that sort of authority?"
FAL rolled her eyes. "Do you truly think the Commander would give it to me?" Five-seveN started to reply. "I couldn't talk Groza into accepting if I wanted too, she was, and is, dead set against the idea. I am not going to use her affections as a way to manipulate her before you suggest it. She would know, and would not take kindly." Dissent radiated off Five-seveN, from the set of her jaw to the way she chewed on the reply.
"You would have jumped at this chance before." And there it was.
FAL chewed on her reply for a few moments, "Maybe." FAL could admit that much. "I would like to think I've gotten wiser over time."
"Wise enough to follow someone who you know nothing about, beyond that they are generally intelligent and don't talk all that much?" Five-seven could verbalize an eye roll like no one else. All in all, FAL considered it one of her worst traits.
"She's also levelheaded, efficient, and unless I am extremely wrong, has been in this sort of situation before." Five-seveN could provide no rebuttal, leaving FAL with the easy resolution. "And, who else would we pick?"
This time the eye roll was physical, and FAL hid her smile, knowing the point had been made. "I'll accept it for now." As if it would go any other way. Making the leave, her second paused again. "How long?"
"One minute." The patrol that needed removal first would be circling back now. "Ballista?"
A pause, likely Ballista doing her own final checks. "Set. Targets marked."
"R-ready." FN-49's slight stutter felt like a welcome return to normal, the junior sniper's anxieties giving a welcome reference point. More welcome than Five-seveN's antics at least.
"FNC?"
"Good!" Sounds of chewing filled the line. "Tell me when, okay?" FAL relayed confirmation of their readiness to the rest of Sector 9, then settled down in the window.
"What do you think, Ballista or FN gets more?" Five-seveN opened a private channel to ask the question.
"I'm not taking bets on which of our comrades kills more Sangvis." Glaring at the spot on the floor that roughly corresponded to Five-seveN's location. "And don't think I missed you asking about when people think Groza and I are going to fuck."
"Then I can expect an accurate-"
"Five-seveN."
"Fine, fine."
The final seconds dripped away. FAL's breathing shallowed, mentally tallying the targets, tracking paths, placing the position of Five-seveN's grenade, and finally taking her own targets on the map. Only three Sangvis were unaccounted for, and would be killed immediately after.
Inhale. FAL raised her weapon, centering her target in the sights. A small explosive sailed through the air, and a very different memory, of dull brown uniforms charging across the tree line, then the rumble of IFVs behind them, hit FAL with surprising force.
Ballista's first shot tore through three heads, high caliber rounds and cheap steel having only one outcome, and her mind snapped back to the present. The enemy reacted slowly, more falling to concentrated fire, as she started tracking the action below.
"Artemis to Wolf. Contact with hostile elements."
-Faded Glory-
Groza swore under her breath. Bitter hallway fighting reminded her of clearing Polish and German bunkers, checking every door, throwing grenades inside, frag, then flash or smoke, before storming in and praying that nothing moved.
"Eheheheeheh!" SOPMOD cackled madly, the muffled sound of an underbarrel grenade flying around the corner, the thump of the explosion cutting off the gunfire. "This is fun!"
SV-98 made a noise of vague disbelief. The low light made it hard to say for sure but she seemed to be going paler. "You need a new idea of fun."
"Talk shit later, move now." Cutting into an argument also resembled those moments, when the tension boiled over, and she had to soothe bruised egos before they got someone killed.
"I'll stop talking shit when she stops sounding so delighted by…by…that!" SV-98 waved a hand in the general direction of the giggling SOPMOD. Seemingly oblivious to the discussion of her actions, the other Doll was firing down the stairwell, then vanishing out of sight.
"SV might have a point." Tiss struggled to be heard over the sounds of fighting. "Nobody should enjoy fighting that much." Personally, Groza agreed, the wanton glee SOPMOD took in ripping the anything that attacked her apart surpassed battle lust. She glanced at M4, who seemed to be trying to find a way to reply tactfully.
"She's always been-" A crunch, then SOPMOD reappeared, now holding a mostly intact Vespid head. "-Interesting?"
"We can go with that." Groza couldn't bring herself to chastise SV-98 for her tone, especially when everyone seemed to agree.
"Keep moving." Her Echelon formed up without a word, SOPMOD already diving back into the fray, M4 shaking her head at Groza's side.
Sweeping the stairwells took longer than Groza wanted, despite the limited resistance. What few Sangvis soldiers engaged them where quickly torn asunder by the ever-excited SOPMOD, most life to rot, although some having parts ripped off to serve as trophies. Still, they reached the bottom within the expected timeframe, Tiss, and OTs-39 holding the positions on either side of the door, Skorpion tentatively poking into the next room, while the rest of the group gathered behind.
This far down, there was no natural light to rely on, and emergency lights were gone. In the stairwells, flashlights and enhanced visual processing made things feel dim, yet acceptable, but peering into the blackness of the warehouse space proved impossible. T he thin beams of light emitting from their lights caught more dust than walls or solid objects. Floorplans from the Commander were rudimentary, and the sheer volume of scribbles in the metaphorical margins made her hesitant to trust them in any depth.
That left the slow, methodical approach. "98, hang back. 39, Tiss, Skorpion, move up."
"We'll stay with you." M4 half-said, half asked, receiving a nod in return. Keeping the VIPs close to her made sense, and they were more than combat capable if it came to that.
As they advanced, beams of light swept over stacked boxes, cans, and other makeshift defensive points, painting a grim picture of the potential past OTs-39 found her destination, one of the structural pillars, ducking around it to look further into the room. The light of her flashlight fell on a human skeleton just around the corner, slumped against the pillar. OTs-39 yelped, the sound echoing down the room, before quickly pointing her light elsewhere.
Groza took a shaky breath, deliberately tracking her own light across the area, finding more evidence of combat. Bullet holes, remains, and weapons left to rust covered the area topped with a thick layer of dust and grime.
Motioning Skorpion and Tiss to defensive positions further into the room, Groza, before addressing the Commander. It took a few seconds for the radio handshake to complete. "Commander, did any of the files mention a battle being fought here?"
A long pause. "Official records list it as some kind of self-defense force base for Crimea, no additional information provided, according to Kalina. Why?" He sounded distracted, likely busy overseeing some other part of the fighting.
"Significant fighting took place here." She continued to track her weapon light across the area, she motioned M4 and SOPMOD to the closest barrier, then signaled 39 to move with her. "The target signal is one floor down, but from how heavily this area is defended, leftover traps or mines are a concern."
"Understood. One moment." As she waited, Groza kept moving them up, position by position. Evidence of fighting continued, abandoned machine guns behind sandbags, obviously laid down in haste, blasts in the floor from grenades, and half empty ammo crates were the least morbid markers. "Lightning?"
"Sir?" Signaling for her troops to hold, Groza knelt beside the remains of a machinegun nest.
"No concrete information exists about fighting in Crimea." The connection crackled. "Aleksander doesn't recall hearing about significant fighting in Crimea, but I would be cautious."
That was far from an ideal answer, but Groza knew she could do nothing about it. "Understood." Letting the connection drop, the team leader stewed upon how to inform her Echelon. Behind her, SV-98's gaze proved heavy, but not yet demanding.
"You seem bothered, Griffon Dolls." Groza's thoughts were shattered by a new voice, bouncing off the walls. Everyone froze, thin shafts of light cutting the gloom without success.
"You!" SOPMOD's snarl drew looks from all of the Dolls. Actual rage dripped from the words, instead of her usual cheerful battle lust. "Where is AR-15?"
The laugh lacked any warmth or humor. "Why are you worrying about your sister?"
"You-" SOPMOD's weapon rose, only to stop when a mechanical hand cut her off.
"SOP." M4 spoke with more authority than she had to date. "She's not worth it."
"Ah yes. M4A1." A slight shift upwards in tone signaled pleasure, or at least, a lack of displeasure. "I have a deal for you. Lay down your weapon. Walk into the middle of the room, and surrender to my soldiers. And in turn, I will release your sister."
"Or." Groza caught the waver in SV-98's retort, although it vanished just as fast. "You can come out, and I'll only shoot you one time instead of four or five.
"I-I…" M4 stumbled over her words, and Groza knew at a glance she was considering the idea.
"What proof do we have that you would even keep your word?" Skorpion's outburst seemed to surprise the Doll herself.
"I am not speaking to you, Doll." Hunter snapped, then paused. "Although I believe your past interactions with Scarecrow should tell you all you need to know."
"I want to see AR-15 first." While she did not manage to muster up the authority she held a moment ago, M4 did sound reasonably commanding.
"Disappointing." The Ringleader sighed. "I had hoped you would be a reasonable woman, as your sister was." Footsteps could be heard, and the clatter of mechanical bodies. "We shall see if your opinion changes."
"Cover! Now!" Groza's command was not a moment too soon, as flashes of gunfire lit the room.
-Faded Glory-
KSG drove one of her shields into another Vespid, knocking it into the path of MG4's next burst. Dismissing the already dead, she took a brief stock of the situation, watching the Sangvis resistance crumble under sustained fire. Fleur's projections of where they would see Sangvis attacking from had mostly accurate, giving them enough of an edge to quickly chew through the Sangvis defenders.
"Honey Badger, move up!" With every element of Sector 9 was now engaged in combat, her objective became all the more important. They needed to draw as much heat as possible away from Groza, given that her Echelon was currently engaged with the Ringleader.
Another Vespid died, buckshot shredding it, and the two Rippers behind. A trio of Guards tried to plug the gap in the Sangvis line, only to topple dead. Honey Badger darted out from cover, emptying most of her magazine to cover her mad dash to the next piece of cover.
On the right, Desert Eagle mimicked her, and as the crossfire built, Sangvis forces folded in on themselves. The final few holdouts lasted a few moments longer, but well-placed shots brought them down, and as the echoes of gunfire died down, KSG couldn't see anything else moving, and shifted her attention to her subordinates.
"Suomi?"
"All fine." A pause, and muffled words could be heard. "RFB wants to know if we can take one alive."
"I assume there is a reason?"
Across the distance, she caught Suomi's eye, receiving a shrug. "Something related to hacking."
"I see." Pulling up the map for further in, KSG closed it just as fast. Fleur's notes and details were sparse, and it came with a big warning about her not being sure. "Tell her as long as she gets me accurate numbers, and map data, I'll call it even."
"Her reply doesn't need repeating." Suomi reported. "I'll see about it."
KSG didn't answer, already moving her sisters further in.
"Command to Wolf."
"Sir."
"Lightning has found evidence of protracted conflict on lower levels."
"Understood. Nothing up top. They've just been throwing bodies upon bodies at us." KSG kicked one, for personal satisfaction. "
KSG could hear vague speaking, but tuned it out, focusing on the situation at hand. "Command copies. Will continue to monitor."
Alfa stepped up beside KSG, voice dropping so only they could hear. "You really shouldn't enable Honey Badger."
"She's here to be a scout, Alfa."
A snort, which KSG pointedly ignored. "She's a reckless idiot, who is going to get herself shot."
"And that is going to happen regardless of what I do." Alfa started to reply and KSG cut her off. "Alfa. I cannot control everyone." A sharp look, and her second retreated. "I can minimize the risks she is going to take, and handle the fallout after."
"Of course." Giving her weapon a cursory check, the other Doll huffed. "I should remember, I'm talking to one of the dumbasses who ran headlong into a war, without waiting for their armor."
From the corner of her eye, KSG could see Suomi's team setting up to push down the next ramp, while the rest of her own Echelon was already grouped up. SRS's fingers drummed against the butt of her rifle nervously, and Honey Badger looked primed to explode from excitement or nerves KSG couldn't say. "Maybe our armor should have arrived sooner." KSG gave brief consideration to whether antagonizing Alfa at this juncture could be considered smart, then forged ahead. "Would have saved us the hassle of dealing with the Brits. Nice enough, but a half strength tank platoon is hardly sufficient to repel a battle-hardened company."
Alfa saw none of that, but seemed more than willing to play along. "And they were right, you really are a bunch of ungrateful bastards."
"Says the woman who hid in a giant metal box like a coward." KSG threw in a blithe shrug to really sell it for the audience, as Alfa's eyes narrowed, catching on.
"Coward or not, at least I don't consider crayons to be an appropriate dietary supplement." In the background SRS's jaw dropped in surprise, while MG4 rolled her eyes, obviously seeing what KSG was doing.
"Haven't killed me yet." That made it Alfa's turn to roll her eyes, but she let it pass, as they drew up to the others, and KSG switched smoothly back to business. "Right. Same plan as before. I'll lead off. Badger you'll grab the first cover I tag, and we'll move up in stages."
-Faded Glory-
"Damnit!" AK-Alfa spat the curse using the corpse of a Brute to absorb the opening shots from the Strikers, before KSG managed to interpose herself. Kneeling to shield them both, she helped Alfa throw the mangled body aside before the need to brace against the incoming shots became too much. "I've about had it with these attempted ambushes." Alfa fumbled reloading her sidearm. "Where are they managed to hide all these goddamn-"
Rifle shots echoed off the roof, and the pressure on KSG's shields abated. "Strikers down!" SRS called out, then in a lower voice, "Are you both okay?"
"Fine." KSG let Alfa speak for them both, scanning the area for any other hostiles. It seemed this latest attempted surprise attack had failed, although hiding a pair of Strikers behind pillars and jumping them from behind cars wasn't the most sophisticated of plans. Making it worse, they had been able to repurpose a set of impromptu fortifications rendering almost all threats meaningless.
"Got one!" RFB's triumphant cry, told the story of what they'd be doing for a few seconds.
"Everyone circle up, we'll hold until RFB is done." KSG gave the order, trailing back to the junk and sandbag circle. Once there, she checked her squad for visual injuries, before turning to find Suomi.
As it turned out, the Finn hadn't waited for KSG to find her, already standing beside her. "It just keeps getting better."
"What exactly did she find?" A glance showed RFB still knelt over a limbless Sangvis Doll, fingers dancing away on a handheld console.
"It's not complete yet, apparently she needs to power up." Or, RFB speak for, she was still working on it. "Map data in the Sangvis units is all incomplete, but we're at least a layer above the rest of your lot. Target is a layer down from them."
"Well, at least that part of our maps was right." KSG finished topping off her weapon. "Anything else?" Suomi shook her head. "We'll sweep this area then move down a floor. Groza's team should be approaching the target, we'll need to keep causing noise."
"Joyous." Suomi made a show of checking her weapon. "Just what I wanted. To get shot, so a Russian doesn't." KSG didn't feel comfortable giving that any kind of response. Even outside of Suomi's opinions, she couldn't say she sympathized with that particular plight. "That Ringleader is still lurking."
"Probably." KSG would trust Suomi's judgment on that, even more given how serious the other Doll looked. "From what Groza said, she favors ambush tactics. It's not an unfamiliar situation." That tasted sour, a tacit admission of some kind of defeat.
Suomi sighed, crossing her arms, and looking anywhere but KSG. "I've done it before." Once again, KSG found herself unsure of how to respond. She never spoke about the war with Suomi, that topic remaining on the unspoken off-limits list. Squirming in place, the other Doll made to deflect as fast as possible. "You clear ahead, we'll follow."
"Radio if anything new comes up." Leaving Suomi to handle her own affairs, KSG rejoined her Echelon, who had gathered around MG4. "Any issues?" MG4 looked up, shaking her head, while the other echoed that. "Good. Honey Badger, take point. We're pushing to here," KSG marked a point on the network map, "Making as much noise as possible. Everyone else will be with me."
SRS and Alfa saluted, while Honey Badger merely offered a jaunty wave, vaulting her hiding spot and rushing ahead. As the rest of them moved to follow, MG4 lingered as KSG's side. "Suomi said something that bothered you."
"She said she'd done this before." KSG let that sink in before elaborating. "Stalking a target in a confined space, and picking them apart."
MG4's lips thinned. "You believe her?"
There were layers to that question, as KSG found herself doing another familiar, but frustrating dance. Unlike Alfa, where they traded barbs, MG4 dealt in asking as many questions in as few words. Normally, KSG enjoyed the mental exercise of answering all the layers at once, but she had more important things to worry about. "That she stalked some poor Russian bastard for hours through the bombed out remains of some northern hellscape? Yes."
"Brilliant." MG4 sounded something close to frustrated. "Insights?"
KSG couldn't suppress a bit of laughter. "Let us not ask for miracles, MG4."
"You put up with far too much." Her piece said, MG4 quickened her pace, leaving KSG alone in the middle of their formation. Shaking off her discomfort, KSG hurried to catch up, and rejoin Honey Badger.
As expected, at the far end of the parking area, was another ramp, leading back up to the previous level, and the portions they had not yet cleared, due a collapsed roof. "You think there is going to be anything fun up there?" Honey Badger asked, bouncing on her feet as she waited.
Perhaps Alfa did have a point, KSG conceded. The weighty gaze on the back of her head screamed 'I told you so', with the characteristic smugness to match. "You shouldn't be so excited about possible excitement."
"Why not? It really gets the blood pumping." Chastisement seemed to only embolden Honey Badger.
"Excitement in combat means chances to die. You are not carrying around a pair of metal ceramic lumps to take bullets, Honey Badger. You get shot, it takes chunks out of you." Given her tendencies, KSG doubted the threat of bodily harm would actually slow down her scout but she had to try.
"Only if they hit me." KSG should have seen that reply coming. "And aren't we supposed to get things to help us see when it's all dark like this?"
"Supposed to." In low light, they didn't really need it, but the military tended to issue night vision gear anyway. Griffon, or the Commander, seemed less concerned about that possibility. "Same as we did earlier. I'll push up center, you take left, flank anything that's attacking. Once MG4 and SRS are set up, we'll move up, alternating."
Honey Badger nodded, and they set out up the ramp.
Back up closer to the surface, natural light made vision easier, giving KSG a good view of the area. Once again, rusted vehicles littered the parking garage, along with some debris from collapses, but no signs of Sangvis units could be seen. Groza hadn't reported any major hostile force when her team pushed to the stairs, but hard earned lessons told KSG she couldn't trust that report.
Motioning for Honey Badger to move, KSG gave the area one final sweep.
From the corner of her eye, something seemed to move. Instinct brought her full attention to the spot, even if KSG knew she'd be too late.
Honey Badger started to twist, also recognizing the threat, and attempting to bring her weapon to bear.
A stray bit of sun caught the metal of a gun barrel. First one shot, then half a dozen more rang out, and for a faintest moment, KSG could see the face of the enemy, illuminated by muzzle flashes. Pain twisted the Ringleader's expression, then the flashes of light died down, and she was gone. KSG fired into the shadows once, to ensure the Ringleader's withdrawl.
"Ow!" Sprawled on the ground, and leaking coolant from the large hole in her shoulder. Her eyes were wild, locking on to KSG on approach, then relaxing a second later when confronted with a familiar face. "I got her right?"
"Either that, or your existence caused her physical pain, yes." KSG knelt down. "Alfa! Get up here!"
As it turned out, the commander was not required, Alfa already entering KSG's field of view. "Where did she get shot?" Honey Badger tried to glare, but it lacked much heat given her injury.
-Faded Glory-
"More incoming." As the fighting continued, Ballista's usual monotone calls started to fray, bits of anxiety and worry tingling the latest report. It made Ballista a good gauge for the mental state of her Echelon, but it put FAL in a bind when Ballista started to fray, and no option to fall back existed. "Double strength patrol. No Jaegers."
"Small mercies." Only one patrol had been accompanied by the sniper units, kicking off a fifteen-minute firefight that FAL did not seek to repeat. "49, FNC reposition, cover approach three."
"Copy!" Somewhere around the hour mark, FNC's usual cheer also faded. FAL kept one eye on their movement. The UAVs were circling back, so they had to rely on 49 and Ballista for reports of incoming enemies.
Ballista did not make her wait long. "Contact in five."
FAL shifted, patting at her magazine pouches to check her personal situation. Just gauging from the anxiousness of her Echelon, they could continue holding, but only two or three more heavy assaults would force them back. "KSG. Time estimate?"
A pause, dragging on for ten, then fifteen seconds. "Unclear. Sangvis resistance greater than expected. One injury, multiple contacts with Ringleader."
"Copy." Five-seveN caught her eyes, having moved up after the fight with Jaegers.
"Still nothing?"
"Additional threats." With that in mind, FAL checked her own sidearm. "We'll be holding for a while longer." Five-seveN's eyes said she knew it, and didn't like it.
"Engaging." Ballista's words cut off any further conversation, as the sound of gunfire filled the air once more.
-Faded Glory-
"FNC, get ready." FN-49 fumbled with the clip, one eye too busy focusing on the slaughter going on below. While they did return fire, Sangvis seemed perfectly willing to march into the killing field without concern, letting dozens of their soldiers die, without making any progress at all.
"Sure thing." FNC shuffled about behind her, taking her post at the top of the stairwell. "Lemme know if anything gets close!"
FN-49 kept firing. The tide of Sangvis was slowing, before with a flash of fire and light a grenade swallowed the remaining ones. "Nothing so far."
"Good." The rustle of wrappers made FN-49 wince. "Can I tell FAL this sucks?" FNC asked the question around a mouthful of chocolate, forcing FN-49 to take longer than needed to parse the words.
"You know she won't care." FN-49 counted her remaining clips, setting them on her lap, before scrambling to put them away again, before FNC saw how few remained..
"She'd probably tell me I can come babysit Five-seveN." FNC kept munching, although FN-49 could imagine her performative shudder at the idea of being stuck with Five-seveN. "We should move back."
"What?" FN-49 tried to fake her confusion, but as she turned to look at FNC, she knew she'd failed.
"We're only safe here if you can keep shooting, and you," A finger aimed at FN-49's gear told the story all by itself, "don't have enough for another attack, right?"
Seeing no point in lying, FN-49 dipped her head,a flush lighting her checks. "No. But we need too-"
FNC took another bite out of her chocolate, before tossing the wrapper. "Leave." FNC repeated herself, speaking of FN-49's attempts to say otherwise. Turning her head to the side, the shorter Doll spoke into the radio. "FAL. Where should we move?"
"Hold." Even across the network, FN-49 could see FAL's expression twist in frustration. "Marking point Bravo, retreat immediately."
FNC's head bobbed, accepting the order. "Captain." She turned to FN-49. "Let's go." Experience told FN-49 to look at FNC's hands, taking a too tight grip on her weapon, rather than watch her eyes, which were steadyfast.
"I'll follow." They started down the half bombed out stairs, FNC leading the way. They'd done this song and dance dozens of times before, in equally blasted cities, fighting equally implacable foes, but FN-49 always found it disquieting, seeing FNC so serious. Out of all of them, FNC had always been the least cut out for fighting, but somehow the least touched by the violence.
The first minutes passed without incident, FNC leading the way across a street, then down an alley, before pausing at the edge of a wider street. They needed to cross, but from this position they would be without any cover from their comrades, Ballista too far forwards, and ruins obstructing FAL and Five-seveN. The street itself was littered with wrecked cars, and debris, and crossing it safely would take time.
FNC knelt at the mouth of the alley. "Hey, Ballista. How long until Sangvis is here again?"
"One minute." Ballista snapped the answer, too fast, to tense. FN-49 gulped. "Scout group."
"Right!" FNC steadied herself. "Follow me." A command for FN-49, then she dashed across the street. FN-49 tracked her feet, waiting ten seconds before following her as fast as she could. They nearly collided in another alleyway, sprinting now, to the marked point.
"Contact!" Gunfire started on Ballista's call. A grenade went off, and FNC drove her shoulder into the door of the building they were moving towards. Wood splintered and they tumbled into the room.
"Clear!" FAL confirmed it. "FNC, FN-49, status."
"At Bravo. Clearing the spotting position now." FNC reported, helping FN-49 to her feet. "That group went quick."
"Just scouts." Even for FAL the reply seemed tense. "Get set up as fast as possible, I don't think the next group is going to be as light."
The building proved empty, save for rats and roaches, and FN-49 took her position on the highest floor, leaving FNC to check the area below.
FNC broke the silence, on a channel just between them. "I hope Five-seveN gets us that time off after this."
"Yeah…" FN-49 could admit, the idea of time to relax after the chaos of the last few days sounded nice.
"Maybe we could get-" The radio crackled, then cut out without warning.
"FNC?" FN-49 waited a few seconds. "FNC?" Still no reply. "Captain. Can you see FNC?"
"No." Her tone carried the unspoken, 'why?'
"Her radio just cut out while double checking the lower floors."
"I see." Only a few second's pause. "Go investigate. We can't afford to lose anyone."
"Yes, Captain!" Gripping her rifle tightly, FN-49 started down the stairs. Blood pounded in her ears, with every step. The stairs creaked under the weight, as she descended one floor, then two.
Mechanical noise started to drift up, audible over her own panic, and FN-49 brought her weapon up as she made her way down the final layer.
Her feet met solid ground, and FN-49 swept her gaze left to right. No sign of Sangvis.
The soft hum of machinery came from another room, and FN-49 made her way, cautiously. Kneeling at the doorway, she took a breath. Ozone and oil tainted the air, and the pounding in her chest only increased.
Peaking around the corner, FN-49 failed to contain her gasp. FNC's rifle lay just inside and to the right, out of view from her approach. As her gaze traveled upwards, she could see roughly a dozen small, boxy Sangvis units, standing at attention in the middle of the room. Hearing her gasp, they all spun.
In the lieu of faces, each little machine had a single, massive camera lens, illuminated from within by a malevolent red glow. FN-49 fumbled for her rifle. Weapons rose up from their backs like scorpion tails, glowing from within.
"New Sangvis-" Red and orange flashes filled her vision, followed by incredible heat.
-Faded Glory-
Searching for the exit to the lower levels of the complex proved exhausting, made worse by the near constant stream of minor Sangvis attacks. With nothing but flashlights and the occasional burst of gunfire, they often didn't know that an enemy spotted them until the bullets started flying. It made for a hair-raising experience, one that none of the Dolls with her were taking well.
To temporarily combat the relentless attacks, Groza elected to pause the advance in a small circle that the previous defenders erected near the center of the area. One side backed them against a vehicle, the others with the same makeshift barriers as before.
M4 made to stand, and Groza caught her arm, pulling her back down. "Stay low." M4's eyes were wide, swimming with anxiety and fear, but she managed to grimly nod, returning to her previous position on the other side of the formation.
"Oh, what is wrong, Griffon Dolls?" Worse, outside of a short break that coincided with KSG's report of an attack, the Ringleader kept taunting them. Groza couldn't say if they co-opted some existing intercom systems, or simply were moving about the room, and that only added to the confusion and terror of the moment.
Perhaps predictably, SV-98's patience had worn thin. "Can you shut the fuck up?" Groza glared, trying to convince her second to relax. They could not afford to antagonize the enemy leader. SV-98 returned the glare, unconcerned.
"Do you really want that?" The bait dangled there, just daring them to sacrifice the only tiny sliver of information they had, in the echoes of her voice. SV-98's face twisted with barely suppressed rage, Skorpion fingered the pin of a grenade, glancing back and forth.
Groza couldn't claim to be keeping her own cool well. Despite her best efforts to meet the Ringleader on an event footing, she felt out of her depth, and it always seemed the Sangvis woman got more out of their exchanges than they did. "I would rather you stopped stalling for time."
"An interesting idea." They could hear footsteps, and OTs-39 jerked, flashlight catching nothing at all. Despite the lead in, the Ringleader said nothing else, and Groza decided to press on.
"Honey Badger got a few good hits in." Rising to a kneeling position, Groza tracked the path of the lights around the room, marking the areas where she couldn't see the Ringleader. Some part of her thought there was more dust in the area than before, a sure indicator something had been moving recently. "That scared you. Fighting so many Dolls, wounded…you aren't keen on your odds, are you?"
No words. No footsteps, only the faint rasp of breathing from her Echelon. Then, the faintest echoes of gunshots filtered through layers of concrete and dirt, as the group upstairs locked in combat once again.
Then, without any warning, the muffled swishing of an object flying through the air. Groza twisted, already ducking as instinct screamed danger. Others started to drop as well, likewise realizing they were about to get hit again.
Fractions of a second too late, Groza realized not everyone treated flying metal as a grenade. The warning started in her throat, but never materialized as OTs-39 shot upright, fingers curling around the flying object.
Steel glinted under the flashlight beam, the form of an assault rifle, in a familiar pattern revealed. As time started to slow, Groza's mind picked out random, seemingly pointless details. The stock extended further than usual; the safety was engaged, and the scope cover remained down.
OTs-39's eyes swam with confusion, taken aback by the item in her hand. Her lips parted, starting to form a question. Behind her, SV-98 started to move, likely to tackle the other Doll to the ground. The first word of warning started to pass Groza's lips, a spluttering 'Down!'.
OTs-39's entire body jerked, the way it might if a servo in her neck had malfunctioned. A slight widening of her eyes followed, the internal glow brightening.
The sound of the first gunshot drowned out the noise that came with metal folding in on itself, of coolant and operating fluids being released, crackling as they contacted now exposed wiring. Metal fragments peppered Groza, a few slicing her face, the sting bringing the moment into stark relief. Two more gunshots followed, and in the flashes of light, Groza could see the Ringleader through the chest of her subordinate.
A sharp chin, lips set in a thin line, and short hair illuminated by the flash of light from a pistol. Before Groza could take in more, something warm and thick splashed across her face, searing as it touched the cuts, and filling her eyes.
Groza scrambled to clear her eyes as screaming, shouting, and gunfire erupted. Grenades went off, the network flooding with Dolls marking the Ringleader's position, and Groza's first fresh sight was the halo of a grenade detonation over one spot, revealing empty air. Occasionally, a shot would lance out of the dark, but everyone immediately zeroed in on those.
Eventually they stopped shooting, and the oppressive silence returned, little by little.
Then, from the darkness, the Ringleader laughed. "Enjoy, Griffon Dolls. We will speak again soon." Smug satisfaction dripped from every word, the sound of disappearing footfalls ringing from the walls.
AN: THis was supposed to be out this afternoon, but I got sidetracked having an exceedingly heated moment about other things. So uh. Whoops? Good news, Chapter is done, enjoy.
Many thanks to Branded King as always, double so this time, as this chapter was pain and suffering.
As always,questions, comments, and concerns are always appreciated.