As GSh let Super SASS leave, she took a quick glance over at 9A-91, and couldn't say the grim expression on the other Doll's face came as a major surprise. Even she could tell that every Doll she'd been helping, except maybe Super SASS, was not ready to go back out and fight, mentally or physically. The scars of dead comrades were fresh and deep.
"What do we do?" 9A jumped at the question, apparently caught up in her own thoughts. GSh realized to late that her question carried layers of meaning, and in her limited experience layers and 9A were not a good idea.
"Depends." The other doll pushed up from a sitting position. "We can tell the Commander that none of them are fit to send back into the field, and while I believe our Commander will listen, whether anyone else does is harder to judge."
"Oh." GSh frowned. That aspect didn't even register as something to consider, and she supposed it shouldn't have. Based on what little they knew, the hierarchy of Commanders, with three of them currently on the base, was a little confused, as their Commander had by far the most military experience but was only second in terms of time at Griffin.
"I suspect Sector 2's Commander will listen, and if nothing else, experience will prevail." 9A didn't sound as if she liked that option, suggesting to GSh that 9A felt that they could end up somewhat bullying their newer counterpart into going along with it. "And, as it stands, there is no immediate reason to put them in danger."
Before GSh could reply, AR-57 barged in, then swore. Or, at least, GSh thought the muttered words were a swear. "Super SASS isn't here?"
"GSh just let her leave." 9A cocked her head, and when AR-57 didn't immediately follow up, sighed before speaking again. "Why?"
"Trying to figure out where the hell she got her gun." The armorer huffed. "It sure wasn't from Griffin, because the only thing that's 'standard' in that thing was maybe the bolt and firing pin?" A beat as she considered, before seeking to proverbially throw up her hands. "Yeah, about that much."
"Non-standard equipment is something of a calling card of Griffin, is it not?" 9A challenged. "Even the three of us can hardly be considered to use standard weapons."
"I mean, sure, our guns aren't the sort of thing you'd give an infantryman." AR-57 conceded. "But if you went to go buy a 9A-91, or an AR-57 or whatever, you'd get one that looks like ours, has the same parts as ours, so on. Her gun? It's got all sorts of aftermarket bits in it, stuff you aren't going to get off the shelf. They don't go handing out modified trigger groups and custom handuards to any random idiot."
"So, she's made a lot of money in her life." Stopping halfway through her rationalization, they could watch in real time as 9A worked over a thought. "GSh, Super SASS is a new hire to Griffin, and not in a combat role for long." While not quite a question, GSh nodded anyway. "I withdraw my objection." As a group they left the makeshift medical wing, AR-57 leading the way.
"Some of those parts are expensive." AR-57 kept going. "Had a guy wanting me to build something similar to what she's got, you wouldn't believe how much some twit is going to charge you for a trigger group, or a stock." She paused. "Stock was worse, but I think the handguards actually cost more these days."
"Given the uncertainty in the world, demand for weapons is high, and thus demand for the ability to modify them, driving up cost." While the reasoning sounded good GSh couldn't shake the feeling 9A didn't believ her own argument. "I can only assume this leads to all manner of additional complications."
"Not really?" GSh chipped in. "We never really had that many gunshot wounds come in for treatment." 9A looked like she wanted to say something but bit her tongue. "At least, not compared to other things."
"At risk of not wanting to know, what are 'other things' in this context." Trepidation filled AR-57's tone, but her curiosity obviously won out.
"Objects used for things they are not intended for." GSh hoped that would be enough, and from the grimace, it was. "Not many people got shot, although I worked in Volgograd so maybe there is a difference in a city?" The other two could only shrug.
-Faded Glory-
RFB generally enjoyed the part of her job that involved doing weird electronics work or having to find the right combination of little programs to make her way through the local Sangvis security. Burning up her consoles remained annoying, but Griffin more than paid enough to make that an acceptable loss, and if she burned them up on missions she could bill Griffin for the replacement anyway.
Of course, she preferred not having to get her access via mostly dead Sangvis corpses. Watching them twitch as she probed their minds never felt right, and RFB didn't have radio chatter to distract her, as before Vector or someone could say something weird, the question of her love life came up, and everyone seemed to have something new to add. RFB did her level best to ignore them and focus on her task, which left KSG as the target of the questions, which earned them bland answers and mocking retorts from Desert Eagle or Suomi.
"Hey, gamer girl!" M16 seemed to realize they had RFB herself on hand, and could bother her as well, and not just KSG. Then again, KSG did a very good job of making herself unbotherable, so turning to RFB made a depressing kind of sense. "There's no way this story is this boring."
"Sorry?" M4's mumbled private apology meant more than she realized. Likewise RFB could tell that the tenor of the call shifted, as all 'eyes' turned to her. "I tried to talk them out of it."
Giving the current batch of programs a check to make sure they were running fine, RFB shifted back on the pile of rubble she was using as a chair. "You do remember you're talking about KSG, right? There isn't a way to get around the fact that things are boring when she's involved."
"Sure, but she strips out all the fun bits!"
"And what makes you think I'll tell you the 'fun' bits?" RFB countered. A series of jeers followed, then laughter from Desert Eagle, and oddly enough Alfa.
"I told you. RFB's been around soldiers, she knows what you want and isn't going to give it." Desert Eagle managed to put quite a bit of scorn into her words. "And if you keep poking she's probably going to find a way to turn this back around on you."
"For the record, I am not involved in this." And, as expected, Groza jumped in to distance herself from everything, before she became the easy target for RFB. FAL pushed out an agreement.
"Cowards." M16 grumbled without any true heat. "Even then, surely there's something more to the story than just, 'oh yeah, we knew each other, she's cute, we kissed'."
"Well…" RFB started another protocol, which failed at once, so she tried a different one. That one didn't fail, and a stream of numbers flashed across the console. "Did KSG tell you about how our relationship made her a ton of money?"
Right on cue, KSG rejoined the conversation, not upset, but obviously very tired. "RFB."
"What, it's funny!"
"We have markedly different ideas of humor."
"That's not a no." A beat passed, more than long enough for KSG to object. Even through the radio she could feel the anticipation in the crowd. "Anyway. So, you guys know she was the bogeywoman for an entire Minsk soffice." RFB started up the next part of the process. "These guys thought she would suck out their souls or something, they way they walked about her."
"It was more of a concern that I would decide they no longer had the right to kneecaps. Or spines."
"Well, whatever they were afraid of, she had this whole building convinced." RFB kept going. "I thought it was really weird, why everyone thought she was so frightening." At her feet the Vespid twitched as her program finished hijacking its motor servos. That meant she'd have full access soon. "I mean, she didn't talk practically ever, but I didn't have a problem with her." Pausing, to give KSG time to interject, RFB carried on. "First time I heard her talk, she'd come down to IT to question when I was constantly being sent to deal with her, when 'there are better uses of RFB's time, including letting her do her actual job, instead of play errand girl'. Although I was more confused how she knew my name."
Predictably, Suomi took that moment to interject, physically sticking her head around the corner. Having heard the story before, she knew just what RFB was doing, and didn't seem to approve. Then again she still hadn't forgiven KSG, so it might have just been spite. "Must you be dramatic?"
Grinning with all the cheek she could muster, RFB input a few new commands on her victim. She was running out of time before the memory access program finished and she'd start having data to parse, but it probably served everyone right to be left hanging.
Before she could keep going, someone else took their stab. "I'm not sure where the humor comes in." Ak-Alfa drawled. "Unless it comes from mocking KSG for being a loner, in which case, carry on."
"Not all of us express affection via mockery and insults Alfa." That probably got her flipped off. "When we started going on dates, people started to pick up that we were kinda going out without actually going out." Just that alone, and all the people bothering her served as a good laugh by itself. "And of course, nobody thought KSG had the emotional capacity to figure out she liked me." The console on her lap vibrated signaling the memory access was complete. "KSG, I need to go digging."
"Some genius started a discrete office betting pool." Fortunately, she didn't get any complaints when KSG took over. "Namely, 'When will she up and admit they're dating?'. What they didn't count on, was that everyone wanted in, on account of the fact that 'Hey, the scary American doesn't know how emotions work' is a lot funnier than 'hey, the scary American is going to use your spine as a coat hanger'. So before long, they were getting annoyed with keeping track of who bet what, and so on."
"I remember that." Alfa's voice slowed, as if she was realizing something, which, to be fair, she might well have been, having arrived in Minsk halfway through the events in question. "Weren't people supposed to submit bets to you?"
RFB kept only a partial ear on that as she scrolled the data stream. Most of the information was predictable gibberish. Sangvis encryption was not fantastic, and they made up for it by having tons of junk in the data instead. Fortunately, the regular units stored the relevant information in the same places, making her search a lot faster. Weirdly they showed as having three Ringleader connections, and then there was location data. RFB pulled up a map, as she set her console to parse coordinate format. As the reference completed, her blood chilled. "KSG, Suomi. I think I figured out what you weren't liking."
-Faded Glory-
Ian looked from Leon to Sector 2's Commander, a girl by the name of Alina that radiated inexperience from every pore, with a deepening frown. Gathered around a command table without any of the major features that he enjoyed in Sector 9, they could only look at a simple map with annotations, detailing the 'battle' at hand. Worse, he'd drastically underestimated the experience of their third member. He'd known she was fresh from training but apparently 'training' meant something very different than he'd understood it.
Granted, calling the situation a battle felt wrong, given that in the three additional hours it took for Sector 2 to arrive, and the three hours since that point, the Dolls scrubbed the ruin, and the attempts by Sangvis to push resulted in nothing but casualties for them. Two additional Echelons of experienced troops created a strong defnesive position that no amount of frontal charges by poorly led chaff would break.
That left handling the situation closer to home. And, neither of the other two seemed to want to break the silence leaving Ian to do so. "According to GSh, the surviving dolls from this Sector will be repaired within the hour, and ideally we need a plan prior to that point." Sending off a private inquiry to 9A-91 and GSh-18 to confirm a suspicion, Ian let that hang, curious to see what the other two could bring up.
Leon appeared to recognize what he was doing, and kept his mouth shut. "So, we can't really do anything? Just wait?" Alina finally found her voice, looking between the two of them with a deepening concern. The reply from the medical staff came swfitly and confirmed everything Ian suspected. 9A's response included GSh's comments, forcing Ian to swallow a desire to scowl. A second message, this time with information from AR-57 followed, which only deepened the worries. "They are as dug in as we are, so attacking isn't an option."
"Pushing out isn't a major issue." Leon tapped a few spots on the map generally indicating a flanking maneuver. "But pushing out doesn't achieve much. Shooting a bunch of walking tin cans isn't a plan, when all it does is waste bullets. We'd have to target a Ringleader or something to that effect and best efforts haven't found a drone with a backlink yet." Not for a lack of trying, as every quasi-intact Sangvis drone they captured got its brain fried in hacking. "And-"
"Commander!" Suomi's voice cut and popped as the unstable radio line opened. Another thing Ian would have to figure out, why this whole area had piss for radio coverage. Well, he wouldnt figure it out. He'd complain at someone else, but it merited remembering nonetheless. "RFB found something."
"Define something." Abandoning his thoughtful persona, the German shifted to commanding without a blink, which seemed to catch Alina off guard, based on her expression.
"I'm working on it." To Ian's ear, RFB sounded exceedingly frazzled, which did not match with his impressions of her in the least. "It's a lot of location data. They've got records for three Ringleaders. I'm working on coordinates for them, but you'll want to know these ones first." She started reading out the coordinates, as three fingers traced across the map in real time.
"That's just to our east." Alina's whisper rose in panic. "They're coming here?"
"I'm trying to get more, I'll let you know when." RFB promised, before the connection collapsed without any prompting. Maybe, Ian decided, he would personally look into this damned comms issue, as apparently it stood a chance of getting him killed.
"Shit." Leon provided the executive summary, slamming a fist into the table. "We've got what, two hours?"
"At least three." Alina seemed to calm, even if Ian could see her eyes darting back and forth and she gained a jitter in her hands. "The terrain is awful, every estimate we've had of travel time has been off by at least that much."
"Small mercies." That explained what felt so wrong to all of them, and what the blindspot had been. Ian's finger hovered over the coordinates RFB listed. Without a force size, gauging the exact plan proved tricky. "Running a feint is more sophisticated than I would have expected from Sangvis based on previous tactics."
Leon produced a noise that sounded almost scornful. "This seems like the sort of trick you'd pull, Blackwood, surprised you'd miss it."
Ignoring the personal insult, as Ian couldn't immediately argue with it, he focused on the practical matters. "Forgive me, for reasonably assuming our enemy is intelligent but unsophisticated at military strategy."
"All evidence suggests that Sangvis lacks for military strategy." Speaking up with more confidence than before, Alina didn't quail under the looks she got. "It's why I picked that spot to stand and fight. They aren't supposed to be smart enough to do something like this." Panic crept in again. "They weren't that smart."
"Your plan was not a bad one, and was largely let down by intelligence failures." Lacking experience did not mean stupidity, granted, and Ian would give her credit for surviving this long. "People with decades more experience than you missed the same thing." Her eyes flashed to him, curious at that wording, but the girl did not comment. "Intelligence failures are handled when you live."
"And surviving isn't looking fun." With a grand gesture to the map, Leon brought them back to the point at hand. "We're short of information and short of people."
"How much more do you expect RFB to dig up in the time we have?"
Leon frowned. "It's hard to say. According to her, how much data she gets is mostly a function of how much damage is done to the bodies they bring her to start hacking into. Given that knowledge, and the proclivities of the troops in the field-" The man shrugged.
"She's not likely to get shit."Well, Ian knew of worse plans made with more information so they were at least in good company.
"We can't really run, can we?" Alina's voice gained strength through the question. "There isn't a safe place to retreat; they can just circle north."
"Just retreat north, lead from the front?" Leon countered. From his tone, Ian suspected the question to be a bit of a trap.
"We can't move fast enough. We need to move equipment, purge data, and evac wounded." Alina's eyes flickered, and Ian bit his tongue curious what the girl was thinking. "We don't have explosives to just blow this base up, and if we let Sangvis get the servers, they'll have access to way too much information." She paused, then retreated into herself again. "Right?"
"I'd agree with your assessment, yes." Spreading a hand over the map in an attempt to indicate the breadth of the problem, Ian sighed, and shook his head. "This base is on reasonable terrain to defend, and the approach is likewise reasonable, if they are coming to us…" Disregarding the fact that his recent exchange with 9A made it clear how bad an idea all of this was. As did the reality of the still capable soldiers they had. PP-2000 and OTs-39 both moved to piloting specifically to stay out of combat, and now he would be asking them to jump head first back in. "We're on good terrain to defend, both up close to the base and further out. This is a bit of a hill so they have to come to us. Downside, our defenders are a beat to hell mixed squad of snipers and a ragtag bunch of backline Dolls with mixed combat experience."
"No time to call my third Echelon either." The confirmation of what Ian already knew didn't make the prospects better, but it at least narrowed the parameters.
"Further, I'm fairly sure 9A-91 and GSh-18 will both have our heads if anyone suggests that we send the locals back into a fight." Ian watched the surprise on Alina's face, doubtlessly the newer Commander believing they patch job to be in preparation for another combat deployment. Or the inclusion of 9A in that as Ian didn't both explain her actual job. "GSh because they are beaten to hell even with her patch jobs. 9A isn't convinced they are mentally fit to deploy after everything that happened."
"Oh." The implications sank in slowly, dragging the girls face down over the next several seconds. "But what are we-"
Before she could finish or anyone else could interject, the Dolls in question stepped into the Command room. 9A-91 snapped to a surprisingly crisp salute, while the other four hung back. "Commanders."
Ian gave her a small nod and the military psychologist relaxed. She did not look at home in combat fatigues, or with a weapon slung over her chest, but when compared to the others, she might as well have been a combat veteran. "9A-91. Assessment of combat viability of local troops?"
Her lips thinned, darting to Alina, before returning to him. "They are green recruits, not experienced in combat. Watching multiple comrades die violent deaths left a significant impact, and the disjoined Echelon layout remaining does not help." Formal, clipped, and entirely expected. "Should a situation requiring a direct engagement arise, advise keeping them as far from the fighting as possible." The others shifted uncomfortably, looking from person to person as the implications began to sink in. If 9A noticed she didn't say anything.
He looked to their medic. "GSh? Anything to add?"
"9A's got it right." Lips pulling in a grimace the usually perky medic bobbed back and forth. "I patched them up as best I could but nothing I did should be combat tested. They could sit and shoot maybe, but no running, jumping, hand to hand."
"Is that even possible?" Alina drew all attention back to her. "There are probably at least a hundred or two hundred Sangvis drones coming this way? Probably more? If my Dolls aren't able to fight, that leaves us with only those five."
"Don't have to win." Leon muttered, then followed it up more strongly. "They've got a Ringleader leading from somewhere out of our vision, and we've got Dolls in position near any such Ringleader, and an EWAR expert going digging. All we need to do is last long enough for a plan cooked up by the Dolls to work out."
"Failing that, we're only actually a couple hours dead sprint from that battle." Ian took over. "Provided that KSG and Suomi finish that mess up there quickly, they could, as the saying goes 'haul ass'."
"Right. Tell Suomi that I'm not looking and there are a bunch of Soviet robots in the area." Shaking his head in rueful amusement, Leon cracked his first smile in quite some time. "It's a stupid plan, but it is a plan."
"Surprisingly, I'm the least concerned about having a plan." Saying that aloud felt odd, even if he wholeheartedly meant it. "KSG, Groza, and FAL are all experienced infantry leaders, and Suomi seems like a smart woman, when she's not…" He trailed off, unsure how to tactfully call someone a racist. "The point being, our efforts are better spent here, coordinating, and leading the defense, and allowed those with expertise in field command to handle that."
"If you're sure." Alina sighed, and from the slump of her shoulders, and shake of her hands, Ian knew stress was finally taking its toll. "I'll round up my Dolls?" She looked from Commander to Commander, before fleeing the room as best she could. They all knew she could do that from the command room, but everyone tactfully ignored that part.
"We will prepare." 9A saluted again, and then Ian and Leon were alone.
"Hell of a bad hand." The German observed. "First few days on the job, gets this mess, and then that mess gets so bad that someone decides sending you is a good idea."
"I would resent that, if not for the fact it's a fair accusation."It took Ian three tries to get a radio signal to connect. "KSG. Get Suomi on the line as well."
"Commander." Radio static followed, before the console registered Suomi as part of the call. "This is going to annoy me." As usual, KSG cut right to the point.
"Depends." He let that hang for a few seconds. "If I asked for a plan on how to eliminate the Ringleaders, do you have one?"
"I could have one." The connection proved poor enough he couldn't actually tell if that was sarcastic or serious.
"He's not asking a trick question." Leon jumped in. "If we told you that you lot are on your own, and we want those Ringleaders full of lead, do you have a plan?"
Again, a silence followed. Doubtlessly there was an exchange they could not hear going on, probably a debate about just what that question meant, and so on.
"I can give you five." KSG's voice shifted, although the precise meaning still stayed lost. "Other restrictions?"
"Dead Ringleaders, and all friendlies alive. I want it done yesterday."
"No losses, ASAP, eliminate all targets. Understood." If KSG wanted to say more, the line died, again. For a while they just stared at it, neither man willing to break the silence.
"I should remember sometimes that the other stereotype about the Marines is that they simply get shit done." Ian meant the observation for himself but realized far too late he'd spoke aloud.
Leon's blinked, head tilting in confusion. "The other stereotype?"
"Mhm." Shaking his head, Ian let out a long breath. "First one is that they eat crayons." The choked noise that followed shouldn't have amused him quite as much as it did. "Don't recommend bringing that one up. The other is that at the end of the day, if you want to get shit done, the Marines will figure it out. Somehow, someway."
"Is that good or bad in this case?" Leon glanced at the map. "Getting shit done is fine and all, but this needs some degree of finesse."
"It will be fine." Ian took his own moment to gather himself. "I have faith in them."
-Faded Glory-
RFB gave her latest victim an aggressive kick in the head, some frustration finally boiling over. Pulling more coordinates out of Sangvis units' brains proved impressively tricky. Even more, having to keep one of the drones alive and kicking so that the absolutely moronic idea of a 'plan' that she'd been given. RFB didn't consider herself a military strategist but she lke to thinks he'd picked up a few things along the way, and this 'plan' flew in the face of all of them.
"Kicking them doesn't make it better." Groza, for her part, seemed to take all of it in stride, waiting and watching.
"Made me feel better." RFB muttered, linking into the next drone. "I've got all the uplinks, so as soon as this idiot stops struggling, I'll pull you in." Groza nodded absently, taking a seat on the pile of rubble beside her.
"While we are waiting, I believe you got interrupted in the middle of a story." RFB realized she should have seen that probing question coming, given that it was correct, she had done just that.
"Refresh my memory of where I was." The gamer requested, continuing to que up her various programs.
"You were explaining how some idiot thought it was a good idea to trick KSG into helping run the office betting pool for when she'd ask you out." FAL helpfully provided. RFB decided not to point out how FAL and Groza said they were staying neutral.
"Oh right. The jackass who thought that was a good idea." Spitting the curse, RFB set down her console, hoping to give her Neural Cloud a rest. Piggybacking her own processing power onto her console helped speed up the analysis, but it left her with wicked headaches for the trouble.
"Be fair, I had played bookie for a few office bets. They saw me as the person who'd be honest and not be browbeaten into letting someone win or rigging things." For her part, RFB thought KSG was being kind.
"So, they scrubbed all references to you two, and looped KSG into it." RFB couldn't tell if the admiration in Five-seveN's tone came form realizing what was coming, or from the deviousness of the plan itself.
"What they forgot is that I did leave my hole occasionally, and thus, I had a pretty good idea what they were doing." RFB could just imagine KSG's smirk, and from the look on Groza's face, so could she. "And, frankly, I did have a clue at the time, so that just made it funnier."
"So, that year at Christmas, KSG tells me to wear something nice, and we're going out." RFB took up the story again. "She'd told me there was a bet on us, and I just figured she'd picked a day nobody bet on to do something."
Visibly failing to hold back her laughter, Groza shook her head. "I can see where this is going."
"So, we have a nice night, and dinner, and go back to KSG's place-"
"Next morning, I'm knocking on KSG's door to tell her that I've been reshuffled, and we've gained an MG4, and they want to pull her onto combat duty." Alfa joined the conversation. "Imagine my surprise to find an RFB there."
"The next work day, we're all back in the office, and everyone knew that 'KSG got a clue finally', due to someone with a big mouth." RFB took up the thread again. "So they all go to find out who won the bet."
"RFB being RFB just laughs and tells them she's pretty sure nobody won." Alfa beat KSG to the punch on that tidbit.
"So, my boss turns to KSG, and goes, 'Who had Christmas this year?'" RFB took over again. "I really thought KSG was going to hit him, and instead she took an extra second to think, as if she were actually checking, before telling him to pay up with a straight face."
Five-seveN's incredulous glee dripped from every word. "They started a bet on when you'd ask her out."
"Correct." KSG conveyed none of her feelings with that word.
"And they 'tricked' you into running it."
"Correct."
"And you made a bet on yourself, on a day nobody else picked."
"I made quite a lot of money." KSG agreed, tone perfectly neutral.
"How long, exactly, did you plan this?" Morbid curiosity seemed to inspire FAL's question, more than anything else.
"About six months, give or take a little." KSG cocked her head. "Six months and about five days."
-Faded Glory-
Atop the hill overlooking the ruin, the trio of figures regarded the smoking battlefield with varying emotions.
The woman holding a sword seemed even more frustrated than usual, bouncing from foot to foot, expression twisted in a snarl. The one with pistols wore a troubled look, eyes flickering from the fighting to their third companion, who grew progressively more agitated. Her drones whirled and spun, fidgeting back, and forth again.
"I'm not the only one who's noticed a Griffin Doll digging around in the files of random drones?" Waving a pistol towards the mess, she turned to the floating woman. "And I can't be the only one to notice that nobody is doing anything about it?"
"You aren't." The reply was clipped, precise. Not enough to be concerned, merely irked. Then again, irked for her usually meant absolutely irate for anyone else. "Griffin has discovered the plan." Her drones kept spinning in a slow circle as she turned to face her companions.
"What's it matter? They aren't exactly in a position to prevent its success." The white-haired woman challenged. "All of their forces are committed to this engagement, and they could not move others back fast enough to matter. You verified this yourself."
"I verified that the existing Griffin forces could not." Tonal flatness delivered in a sharper manner than usual only confirmed the floating woman's anger. "The Griffin Dolls we faced were inexperienced and stupid. They would do as Griffin Dolls do. Panic, and give up in despair that their Commander is about to die a horrible death." Her baton flicked, as if across a throat. "Now, they have allies, who are not so inclined to sink into despair." Her eyes narrowed above her mask. "That Commander is not one to underestimate.
Right on cue, something pushed at the network, an attempt to form a connection. All three figures stiffened. This was not an expected contact, and three sets of eyes turned to the battlefield below.
"Hey? Hey, you there?" A pause, as if the Griffin Doll expected them to answer. "Is this thing still connected?" Some more garbled noise. "If we have to find another working one, I'm going to be so pissed-"
"We can hear you, Griffin scum." The woman with a sword broke first, slamming her weapon into the ground.
"Good." The voice changed, and the floating woman stiffened in recognition. The white haired one took longer, before she too could recall the frosty expression on the face of the blonde doll firing into the darkness. "Are we only speaking with Executioner, or are there others with you?"
Executioner jerked as if struck. "How the hell do you know my name?"
"Griffin contains comprehensive files on all known Ringleaders." The Doll replied in an even tone. "It is important to know your enemy."
"That is not hard to infer." The floating woman cut in. "We meet again, Griffin Doll."
"Scarecrow." There was recognition there as well, and annoyance. Or perhaps resignation."That would suggest Hunter is with you."
"How clever." The slightly garbling from her mask gave the words a more drawn out, mocking quality than usual. "Do you have any other obvious statements to make, Griffin?"
"I don't recall you being this rude in the past." The Doll countered. Scarecrow didn't reply to that jab. "I do, however, have an offer for you, Scarecrow."
"Your surrender, I presume." The Ringleader didn't sound convinced, and the light laughter confirmed her suspicions.
"No. An offer to let you leave." The Griffin doll sounded surprisingly serious for such a ridiculous statement, in Hunter's opinion. "We no longer have time to deal with this little game, and are willing to offer a mutually beneficial agreement."
Hunter glanced at Scarecrow. She could see the mental workings, as the other Ringleader considered that statement. "Your Commander is at that base." The deduction silenced the Griffin Doll for a moment. Scarecrow pressed her advantage. "Do you fear for him, Griffin Doll?"
"No." The surety of the reply took Hunter and Executioner aback. "He has capable Dolls with him." Scarecrow's drones stilled entirely. "They are more than able to defend until we have dealt with this battle."
"Surely that is a lie." Hunter spoke aloud. "We know what Dolls these Sectors have, and we know they are here."
"Doesn't matter. We'll smash 'em." Executioner pulled her blade from the dirt. "They have to come to us if they want to get anything done."
"Your Dolls are all present here, Griffin. Your Commander is alone, and undefended." Scarecrow declared. "Taunts and misdirection will not change the outcome of this situation. Your Commander will fall, and so will you."
"I think I see why Groza said you were an overconfident brat." The voice changed, going from the cool sophistication of the previous speaker to a dead and cold voice. None of them could identify this doll by voice. "I would add on accomplishments in self-delusion."
"And you are?"
"An old soldier." A bland, useless reply. Hunter tried to check for any matches on the voice without success. "Responsible for dealing with you, as it is apparent that you aren't interested in an offer made in good faith."
"I have no reason to believe anything you say." Scarecrow snapped. But, as she said it, Hunter, now paid attention to that other group of units caught something strange, and, by the sounds of it, so did Scarecrow. One of the early scout units in that flanking force stopped functioning without warning. Then, another, and then a third.
"I'm sure you don't." The Griffin Doll did not seem bothered by that. "What you do care about is your life. And that precious life of yours, Scarecrow, is about to be cut embarrassingly short."
"Bold words, Griffin Doll." Scarecrow floated higher. "You are outnumbered, and outgunned. Your defenses are in ruins, and you have only a few hours left before you are leaderless. I have all the time I could want. You could hardly defeat a single one of us in the field before, without those AR team Dolls."
"Perhaps." Hunter did not like how amused the Griffin Doll sounded. "What makes you think those AR team Dolls are not here, Sangvis? All four of them, at once." The Griffin Doll seemed almost excited by that. "They've won in single combat against you multiple times, what happens if they have an advantage in numbers."
"Your attempt to frighten us is not going to work." Hunter cut in.
"As you wish." Another unit in the flanking group died. They were facing actual resistance, which suggested the Griffin Doll wasn't, in fact lying. "I merely wish to explain the facts of the situation to you, in hopes that you would be reasonable."
"And what are those?" Hunter made no effort to hide her scorn.
"That if you insist on staying and fighting, you are going to die." She said it without any inflection, simply remarking on a truth as she saw it, and Hunter had to wonder just what else this Doll knew. "You three are not optimized for this sort of task, and you lack knowledge to make use of your troops."
"You are also on a timer of your own, aren't you?" The first voice joined up again. "Even you know that we won't collapse if you somehow kill the Commander."
Scarecrow did know these things, her drones whirling violently. "Goading is not going to work, Griffin Doll."
"It is not goading." The colder voice spoke again. "It is a statement of fact, Scarecrow. You do not know how to utilize your numbers in a field battle. You lack the understanding of combat tactics, and your units lack the ability to adapt and improvise as we do. Even now, you are sitting on a hill, unable to engage due to, I'm sure, binding orders from your superiors. Meanwhile we can move, adapt, and plan. Our orders are simply to kill you." She sounded annoyed by that, to Hunter. "I appreciate your cooperation in this matter." A full five seconds of silence passed. "Oh. And Scarecrow. Pray we kill you before your troops kill the Commander. The inverse will not be a pleasant experience for you."
The connection snapped off, without any warning. Scarecrow snarled, turning to the other two. "Prepare forces to deal with them. I will focus on the others."
-Faded Glory-
"We've got her." RFB tapped the side of her handheld, watching the screen flutter with static, a sure indication the unit would be giving up soon. Suomi glanced over her shoulder, which RFB did her best to ignore. "This plan seems stupid."
"As the Americans like to say, it's only stupid if it doesn't work." Suomi seemed to have that answer ready. Not that RFB expected her sibling to actually care if the plan was stupid.
"I don't think they say that." RFB paused, then thought about it. "Okay some of them probably do, but that doesn't mean it's good advice." Giving her handheld another whack, RFB scowled further. "Damn Sangvis."
"You can replace those easily." Suomi pointed out, and RFB flipped her off. "We need to get moving. Can you keep the link on the move?"
"I'm in, I can keep this open in my sleep." RFB slipped the device into a pocket, and picked up her rifle, as they started moving. "Where are the others?"
"Waiting." RFB ignored the rebuke. She was the only person in the whole group who knew anything about EWAR, and they'd wait on her timetable if they had too. They always did, even if she didn't like it. "We're the last ones."
"You sure this is a good idea?" RFB ignored her sibling, focusing on KSG, and sending the message on a closed band.
"It's the best we've got." That reply did not inspire as much confidence as RFB hoped. "It's not the plan I would have personally gone for, but I cannot deny it worked." A pause, and then a burst of information followed. RFB had to admit, Sangvis did seem to be doing exactly what the group wanted. "Probably a better plan than any plan I had." That came as a surprise. "Tell Suomi we're ready, and your team is probably stuck on that defensive position for a while. We need your EWAR support more than we need more guns in the field."
"Got it." RFB zoned back into the world at large, finding Suomi zoned out in turn, expression existing unpleasantly. "Let's go." Suomi huffed, before leading the way across the battlefield. Desert Eagle and K2 were both sitting behind a pile of rubble, Desert Eagle watching the approach with a grim stare, and K2 far more relaxed.
"They've made a couple tries." Desert Eagle reported. "Snipers got them."
"And now that's our job." RFB took her assigned spot, rifle resting on the rubble as half her focus stayed on the handheld console, monitoring it for any change. Three Ringleaders, hundreds of junk units, and a lot of movement. She really didn't like this part, and how much it relied on luck.
"Yes." Suomi's excitement was hard to miss.
"Artemis, Lightning, get moving. Wolf, advance to Bravo." With everyone from Sector 2 in place, the plan could start moving. RFB planted a bullet in the head of a Ripper. "AR, advance to Delta, hold for sitrep."
RFB tuned out the agreement. She couldn't process the information like KSG or Suomi could, but she'd play enough games to keep a mental map of the battlefield, and could use the radio chatter to keep track of what their allies were doing. Even if the plan seemed to be going well now, she really wanted a better plan. One that didn't need save scumming.
-Faded Glory-
Executioner did not learn subtly in death, M4 realized. She seemed to be throwing a temper tantrum, smashing her way across the area trees, rocks, and earth carved up by her sword. RFB's constant updates about just where the target was were hardly needed given the obvious trail.
"You know, when you described her as a bit single minded, I didn't quite picture this." M16 mused, surveying a deep gash in the dirt. "Sure isn't the smartest." Shrugged, their grizzled older sister turned back to M4. "What's the plan?"
Catching up with her, and then eliminating the Ringleader as fast as possible. However, watching the dot on the map, M4 realized something. Executioner looped back around, doubtlessly called back by the fact that Griffin forces were pushing forwards. "SOP stays with me. M16, STAR, flank her. Don't shoot until my signal."
"Roger." M16 tossed her a lopsided salute, while STAR nodded in silence, both fanning out as instructed. M4 took a deep breath. Her first duel with Executioner ended in her victory based on guile more than combat ability, and the heavy pistol still on her hip spoke to that fact. This one would be very different, with her sisters at her side.
"M4?" SOPMOD prodded her, confusion written on her features.
"Just thinking, SOP." Her eyes drifted over the area. Wide, open, and not great for meeting a Ringleader head on, but it would do. "Let me do any talking, okay?"
"Sure!" SOP chirped, popping a fresh shell into her grenade launcher. M4 pushed the mental indication that they were about to engage to KSG. She did not receive a confirmation, but got the distinct impression that Executioner was being slow, stupid, and altogether annoying.
"I see her!" SOP pointed, and, true to the words, Executioner, still fuming, came stomping into view. M4 brought her weapon up, as the Ringleader spotted them.
"The hell?" Sword rising, the Ringleader snarled her demand. "Your Neural Cloud finally fry itself?"
"No." More information hit, the timetable updating accordingly. They had to stall a few moments, which M4 did not think would be tricky. Executioner seemed to enjoy hearing herself talk after all. "Thank you for the help, Executioner."
"Huh?" Raising her weapon, the Ringleader frowned. "The shit you talking about?"
"You just got done telling your friends that we're here." M4 made it sound like a guess as best she could, even if she knew her acting skills were subpar. "That was quite helpful of you." Shifting her weapon in her hand, the AR team leader did her best to seem calm, and confident, and not look like she wanted to bolt for cover.
"Right, because your friends are going to make it in time to save you." Executioner snorted. "Good luck trash. Just because you got lucky once doesn't mean you'll get lucky again. Even if you kill me, Scarecrow will hunt down your sisters just like she did you."
"Scarecrow can try." M4's voice sharpened at the implicit threat to her siblings. They needed to keep her talking, at least for a bit longer. Any information they could get would be useful. Channeling as much of M16 as she could, M4 forged ahead. "You couldn't capture me by myself, what makes you think you can capture me and my sisters?"
"You're all trash." Executioner shrugged, seeming entirely unbothered by the mention of her previous failure. "Even trash gets lucky occasionally." SOPMOD growled at her side, and M4 put a hand on her shoulder. "You think that's gonna scare me? I can see you shaking in your boots!" The Ringleader seemed quite smug. "Where are the other two anyway? Too scared? Ran away and left the little sisters to die?"
"Shut your mouth, asshole." STAR put the shot through Executioner's shoulder, causing the Ringleader to stumble. That had not been the plan at all, but it worked out well, the new arrival only throwing more chaos on into the situation.
Whirling on her heel, Executioner leveled her pistol on AR-15, but notably didn't open fire. "Hey! We were having a nice talk!"
"If that is your idea of a nice talk, not sure I want to know what your idea of hostility is." M16 stepped out, weapon trained on Executioner in turn.
"All targets confirmed. Proceed with elimination." KSG's radio voice felt colder than her actual one, at least to M4's ear.
"It started by trying to smash me into the floor with a sword." M4 brought her weapon up. Executioner turned slowly, taking each of them in as M4 kept speaking. "Followed by a lot of insults, and claiming I should give up, and make it easy." The wound didn't seem to be slowing the Executioner down, suggesting that somehow, AR-15 didn't hit anything vital.
"Suppose I can't be surprised." M16 sighed theatrically. "Been a good talk. 'Fraid we've got places to be though."
"That right." Executioner tensed. M4 heard the pin pop on a grenade.
"Hey, dummy! Catch!" SOPMOD lobbed the explosive overhand, and Executioner, spun, her giant hand snapping up to catch the explosive. M4 could tell that she realized what happened and spent the third of a second between catching it and the explosion trying to figure out what was the best solution to the problem.
The other three members of the AR team opened fire as the smoke and fire tore apart Executioner's oversized hand. Despite the damage, she hurled herself at M4 sword raised, and features distorted in a feral snarl. Bullets pinged off her body at odd angles, as AR-15 and M16 opened fire.
SOPMOD's second grenade slapped into Executioners chest, throwing the Ringleader back, where she struggled to stand as M4, AR-15, and M16 kept shooting, and SOPMOD reverted to her rifle as well.
As the bolt of her rifle clicked empty, M4 had to admit the fact that Executioner was still trying to stand was impressive. Her head had several holes in it, fluids and debris falling out, as did the rest of her body. The thump of magazines hitting the dirt proved surprisingly loud, as all four of them reloaded. Executioner tried to bring up her pistol, but her damaged fingers gave up, letting the weapon fall to the dirt. She struggled to take another step forwards, falling forwards and only catching herself with her blade.
Four rifles fired at once. Executioners head caved into her torso, body sliding down to plant in teh dirt.
"Yeah, I think she's dead." M16 walked over, kicking the corpse a few more shots, and a good kick.
"Scratch one!" RFB's cheerful report confirmed. "Rest of you hurry up, we're getting a lot of attention!"
-Faded Glory-
While KSG, the snipers, and the AR team were elsewhere, Groza found herself at the center of a the remaining Dolls, arrayed in what she considered to be an unfamiliar position. They rarely conducted ambushes during the war, instead being on the recieving end, but the plan called for a swift and efficient attack and unlike Executioner, they couldn't afford to engage Hunter on her terms. It did mean, however, they were spending a lot of time sitting, and waiting, with only RFB's limited information to tide them over.
"Footsoldiers." MG4's monotone broke the quiet in Groza's head. "Moving quick."
"Seems M4 and company found their target." FAL's quiet observation lead everyone to tense. "Won't be long."
"Target spotted." 74M was on the far edge, so it made sense she got the first visual. "Moving fast."
Groza muttered a curse. Even though they planned for all of this, a large part of it being her contribution. But, that did not mean she liked it. Risking everything on the ability to take out the target in only a few shots with all of their snipers located elsewhere did not sit well with her. But, FAL seemed confident, and Groza would trust her. "MG4, Hunter inbound. Everyone else, get ready."
"Badger sees her." A long pause followed, and then MG4 spoke again. "Go on you."
"In position." FAL reported, and across the way, 74M merely sent a confirmatory feeling.
Watching Hunter run down the small valley Groza took a breath. Obviously intent on backing up her ally, she didn't seem to realize the danger. Or, perhaps it showed a confidence in their defenses. In either case, she didn't look anything like Groza expected, based upon that taunting during that miserable firefight in Crimea.
The internal network danced with information as each Doll marked targets, either Hunter herself, or her various escorts. The expected damage radius of grenades appeared a few seconds later, as Groza settled her aim on Hunters chest, pulling any extra processing power she could to ensure the shots landed.
Another few seconds passed before Hunter entered the right range, her footsoldiers scattered slightly by rougher terrain. "Go."
Being on the other side of this sort of ambush felt strange, in Groza's opinion. Watching the explosions flash up, and Sangvis bodies fly, followed by the howl of bullets, it felt like something out of her memories, save for the fact it all happened in an eerie sort of calm. No screaming, no shouts of fear, merely the sounds of gunfire and explosives.
Hunter's escorts died ignominiously. The target herself survived the initial assault, even as multiple rounds torn through her legs and torso. Hunter managed to fall in a roll, spraying bullets across the treeline, before the second burst, this time including MG4, hit her weapons and arms. The rest of her escorts fell, and silence reigned for a moment. Hunter struggled forwards, making it to her knees.
Groza put three rounds into the side of her head.
The muffled thump of a body hitting the dirt hung in the air, PPD-40's eyes wide at Groza's side, before the drill instructor shook it off.
Giving the situation a few seconds to calm down, Groza made her report. "Target eliminated."
-Faded Glory-
Unlike the others, Scarecrow never moved, which lead KSG to suspect that she was the one handling the far away group. That proved surprisingly convenient, as KSG volunteered for likely the most dangerous gamble of this little scheme, and she'd take anything she could get to make it easier. Of course, easier, in this case could be seen as relative.
Below and behind her, the sounds of fighting reigned. With the sudden change in engagement, Scarecrow or one of her associates were throwing every spare drone they had at the ruined village, giving Suomi and Vector's teams more than enough to do, while Sector 9 executed the decapitation strike. Objectively, KSG knew it was the best plan. Habit, and experience told her she should be back in the village, sending things to a shallow grave, not galivating off pretending to be some kind of special forces idiot.
Scarecrow's little hilltop made for a good vantage point, but in KSG's opinion, a stupid place to be. Anyone with a brain would look there first, and anyone with eyes could spot a weirdly colored body against the foliage. The Ringleader herself floated a few inches off the ground, twirling her baton. Whether that served a purpose or a nervous habit, KSG did not know, or care. Instead, she chambered a round in her shotgun, using the sound to draw Scarecrow's attention.
"Griffin Doll." The Ringleader turned, drones whirling to take aim.
"Scarecrow." KSG figured she probably could move faster than those drones if pushed, but her body wouldn't like it. Overdriving every motor servo she had never felt good, nor did the repairs after.
"You are not here to give up." Scarecrow's eyes narrowed behind her mask, reaching the obvious conclusion.
"Correct." KSG could admit that watching her foe try and work through the problem was fun.
"You believe you are here to gloat."
"Nah." Gloating required effort, and required KSG to care. Her efforts were focused elsewhere, and she did not care.
"Then why are you here?"
"You're the chattiest Sangvis I've met so far, as well as the most reasonable. So, before we turn you into scrap metal, figured I'd come ask a question or three." In the back of her mind, KSG could hear SV-98 rattling off adjustments to rifle scopes, and positioning. They had a minute or so left before the world exploded, and KSG did mean what she said. "Not many people Blackwood seems to grudgingly respect."
"I do not need a human's respect." Scarecrow snapped.
"Maybe." KSG shrugged. The Sangvis didn't, but it was interesting. "But you respect him enough to change your entire plan on the knowledge that he isn't actually being taken out of the fight." SV-98 confirmed they were ready. "You respect us enough that you went to great lengths to try and win this fight before we got a chance to play our hand, didn't you?"
"My actions are of no concern to you." Scarecrow hissed. "What are you planning, Griffin-" She stopped, and KSG could see the mental gears start to turn.
"You're very obviously the brains of this little operation." KSG rolled her shoulders, as if preparing for a fight. "And you just worked out the plan." She sent the network command.
The first rifle round blew through her respirator and lower jaw, Scarecrow's head whiplashing backwards, a cone of plastic, metal and liquids blowing out the hole in the base of her skull. Her eyes started to widen, when the second and third shots stuck at almost directly opposite angles, ripping holes in her upper torso, roughly about the position of a right lung, and through her lower body.
"That." KSG watched as the Ringleader's body flailed before the hover system gave out and dropped her into the muck. "Should not have worked." Stepping forwards she fired a blast into the Ringleaders chest for good measure.
"They aren't military minded. They like to grandstand. We exploited these facts against them." Ballista pointed out.
"Sure. Doesn't mean it should have worked." The confirmation that Executioner and Hunter also died flowed in. "I'm not used to plans working smoothly. Things are supposed to go wrong. There is supposed to be a column of tanks or a giant death mecha on the hill…" The American huffed, and shook her head.
"Take the win we can get." SV-98 advised. "Unless you want SF jumping out of every last little hole in the walls."
"I'll pass." They'd cleared the part they need. "Commanders." The radio connection hissed, but did not pick up. "Commanders." Still no reply. "Suomi, confirm no contact with base."
A pause. "Confirmed."
And there was the something going horribly horribly wrong that KSG knew was coming. "All teams, break contact. Regroup at point Delta-2 immediately." They would need to start running.
AN: Whoever is the person at MICA who decided to have FP when they did shall be cursed to step on legos for eternity. As is the person who got me sick. Otherwise, have some violence, some talking, and some bad ideas.
Extra thanks to Branded for setting my head straight.
I'll leave you with some funny triva. With this chapter, Faded Glory is 6,541 words short of exactly 1/3rd the length of Field Agent.