Note: This chapter was reuploaded for some grammar corrections.
Orange.
That was all that Monarch could see.
The ruined buildings and streets of Presidia. The rolling fields and hills surrounding the city. Even the sea and the sky. All of it was outlined in that damned orange glow.
From his viewpoint high in the clouds in his F/D-14, Monarch, stared out at the devastation. On the outside he appeared as stoic as ever, but beneath his facemask was a whirl of emotions.
The cordium warhead had seemingly wiped out everything. The Cascadian Independence Force and the remains of the Federation army had been caught in the blast, as well as most of the aircraft that were still airborne. Any leftover pilots other than himself had been shot down shortly afterwards by the madman responsible for this disaster. Everyone was gone.
Including Sicario,
Kaiser,
Galaxy,
Dip and Comic.
He had beaten Crimson 1. He saw the bastard's plane go up in a fireball of that damned orange. Yet, he couldn't call this a victory.
Monarch's grip tightened on the controls. He kept the plane in a slow circle as he considered what he should do.
"Oooooowwwwww, did anyone get the number of the truck that hit me?"
PREZ! Monarch glanced into his cockpit mirror. His WSO had apparently managed to recover from her blackout. He gave a small prayer of thanks to the Dust Mother that at least she was all right.
"Ah fuck, we're airborne. Is the plane alright?" Prez had her eyes half closed as she looked at him in the mirror. She was obviously still feeling some aftereffects.
Monarch gave a thumbs up. The plane was fine, other than the fact it would likely have to be checked for structural damage after prolonged periods of sustained high-G turns.
"God, I can't believe I blacked out. What happen-" Prez's eyes suddenly shot wide open and she sat up. "CRIMSON! Where-?"
Monarch drew his thumb across his neck.
"Oh." Prez relaxed. "Good fucking riddance."
The two sat in silence for a few moments as their Tomcat flew at loitering speed.
"Has anyone else tried contacting us?"
Monarch gave a thumbs down.
"Oh God…they're all…" Prez slumped forward in her seat. Monarch could hear her sobbing from the backseat.
They continued like this for a few minutes. Monarch kept the plane going in lazy circles over the chaos below. Almost like a king keeping watch over his domain. At least, those who called Monarch the"'Crowned Mercenary" would say that.
Monarch never really liked that nickname.
Suddenly, the radio crackled to life.
"This is Independence Force HQ to any IF or mercenary forces within Presidia. If you can hear this message, please respond, over."
Monarch glanced in his mirror again. Prez had managed to regain her composure and keyed her mic.
"This is Hitman 1, Monarch and President, reading you loud and clear."
"Roger, Hitman 1, glad at least you made it. Can you confirm the destruction of rogue Federation forces?"
"We can confirm Crimson 1 is shot down."
"Excellent. Go to heading 0-9-0. We'll guide you to an airbase for a full debriefing." The radio operator's voice then took on a more somber tone. "And Hitman, the war's still over. The Federation has officially declared an end to combat operations and is pulling out of the country. They want nothing to do with this. If it wasn't for your and Sicario's actions this victory wouldn't have been possible. The Cascadian government and High Command are thankful for all you have done-"
"YOU'RE 'THANKFUL'?! After all that, all you can say is that you're 'THANKFUL'?!" Prez's voice exploded over the radio. "In case you haven't noticed, all of Sicario except for us is FUCKING DEAD! Our boss, our friends, all of them are gone! You can't just smooth that over with a few empty words. You can go take your thanks and shove it." Prez slumped back in her seat. Silence reigned over the radio as the Cascadian radio operator seemed to debate how to respond. Eventually, she opted to respond diplomatically.
"The Cascadian government is aware of the sacrifices you have made. That is why we are prepared to honor our end of the deal."
Prez slammed the radio button, ready to give the woman another earful. However, a few words in she noticed the radio wasn't transmitting. In fact, it was completely shut off.
"Dammit, Monarch, turn the radio-"
"No." Monarch spoke for the first time this sortie. "It isn't worth it."
Prez stared at her pilot. For him to speak while flying, even this softly, was a rarity. He was normally focused entirely on flying. "In the zone" as she put it.
Monarch stared back through the mirror, silently urging his WSO to stand down. When Prez calmed down and nodded, he turned the radio back on.
"Acknowledged. Hitman 1, turning to course 0-9-0 to RTB."
The Tomcat banked away, leaving the battlefield behind. However, the occupants' thoughts remained at the city, with their fallen comrades.
Unbeknownst to them, their comrades weren't exactly as "fallen" as they thought.
"ALTITUDE. ALTITUDE."
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!"
Hitman 2, callsign Diplomat, was currently trying to not slam himself into a mountain. After all he'd survive, dying due to a flight mishap would just be embarrassing. Never mind the fact that the bright flash had completely disoriented him. Never mind his plane had suddenly stalled for no reason. Never mind that there shouldn't even BE mountains in Presidia. The only thing people would remember was that Dip was the idiot that crashed his plane right at the end of the war.
Engines at full power, he yanked back on the flight stick. His MG-29 roared as it struggled to gain airspeed and bring the nose out of the dive. The rocks of the cliffside seemed to reach out towards the plane, as if the earth itself was trying to grab the jet out of the air.
"PULL UP! PULL UP!" The "Bitchin' Betty" on Dip's plane screamed warnings at him.
"I AM!" Dip's breathing came in short, quick bursts as he fought the G forces pressing on his body. Gradually, he managed to claw back to altitude, shooting just over the tip of the mountain. The Fulcrum pulled away from the mountain range and climbed up towards the clouds.
Wait, mountain range? Dip did a double take and looked at the ground.
Just a few moments ago, it was nearly sunset in Presidia, with a wide open sky. However, now it was overcast, the sun completely covered by clouds. The city streets and skyscrapers had been replaced by tall, snow-capped peaks and forested valleys. Off to the east, the mountains flattened out into a rolling plain.
Most alarming was the complete lack of any seawater in sight. Presidia was right on the coast, so he at least should be able to see some ocean. The fact that he didn't meant one thing: he was completely lost. A quick glance at his navigational aids didn't help at all. His digital map seemed to be broken and his other instruments only further confused him.
Oh damn, I really am lost. Dip did a quick look over the sky. At least nobody seems to have been around to see that maneuver.
"Nice flying there, Dip."
"Oh, come on!"
Hitman 3, callsign Comic, pulled up from below and took her place off Diplomat's left wing. Dip looked out at her fighter, a F/C-15 Eagle. The jester artwork painted on the tailfin seemed to be mocking Dip with its laughter.
"Really trying to lose out on that payout, are you?" Comic, despite her name, was usually the more serious Hitman team member. She wasn't gonna miss out on a golden opportunity to harass Diplomat, however.
"Oh that?" Diplomat gave a nervous chuckle. He elected to try and play cool. "I was just trying to keep things exciting, you know 'Mic?"
"By crashing into the ground? Sounds like a stupid way to die." Comic didn't buy it. "Of course, something stupid is exactly the kind of thing you would do right now, so I'm not surprised."
"Uggh, can we just forget about this and move on?" Dip could tolerate Comic ribbing him over this, but if Galaxy caught wind of this he'd be the laughingstock of Sicario for weeks.
"Ha, sure thing Dip. We'll keep this between ourselves. We've got much bigger concerns right now."
"Like how we're in the ass end of nowhere and missing the fight?" Dip took another look. The clouds made everything dark, so he couldn't make out any fighters in the distance, friendly or hostile.
"Exactly." Comic went back to her normal, all-business tone. "Any ideas where we are?"
"Nooooope. All I know is that we were all spiked, there was a bright flash, and then I…well, you saw." Dip started fiddling with his flight instruments to get a better sense of his situation.
"That's what happened to me too. Whatever it was, it knocked out my radar and long-range comms. I've been trying to fix them, but no luck."
"Yeah, same here." Dip's radio also seemed to be malfunctioning, and his radar just wouldn't respond. He glanced over at his wingman and did a visual inspection of her aircraft. There didn't seem to be any physical damage. "You like fine on the outside from here. Maybe try a reboot?"
"Alright, but we'll lose comms during it. You should do one as well; I'm not seeing anything wrong with your plane. Talk to you in a few." Comic dropped off the radio.
Dip set about rebooting his instruments. A few quiet minutes passed as Dip waited, during which a thought occurred to him.
That laugh before the flash…was that…?
The rebooting completed. The radar updated with several new contacts, and a wave of sound hit Diplomat through the radio.
"-I can't reach HQ-"
"This is Gunsel 1, does anyone-"
"-where are the ground-"
"-is the ceasefire still on?"
Suddenly, a strong voice cut through the noise.
"This is Assassin 1. Clear comms. Galaxy is still active, so if you need help with orientation you can contact him on a separate channel." It was Kaiser, head of Sicario and leader of the assembled mercenary forces in the country to assist Cascadia end the war.
"Now, I'm gonna go down my list of flight leads here. When I call you, I want a full SITREP on your squadron. Ammo, fuel, headcount, everything. If you are missing someone, we'll check with Galaxy at the end. If a flight lead isn't available, a wingman can respond instead."
Kaiser began calling out flight leads, and the general situation steadily became clearer. Everyone else had experienced the same blinding flash before suddenly finding themselves nowhere near Presidia. It appeared that most of the mercenary teams were scattered, and losses were heavy. Notably, Sicario's Gunsel team appeared to be down to just the flight lead, and Assassin itself was down to just Kaiser and his wingman. Stardust, Sicario's liaison was nowhere to be found.
Dip was concerned, but not for himself or Hitman. He was good on fuel, and Comic was probably also alright. She would've said something otherwise. All he really wanted was to find where Monarch and Prez were and regroup.
"Hitman 1, SITREP." Diplomat perked up, ready to adjust course to meet his flight lead.
No response came.
"Hitman 1, SITREP." Diplomat got a pit in his stomach. Prez should've responded by now. Unless they were…
"Prez, where are you and Monarch?" Kaiser didn't seem willing to accept the possibility. Diplomat wasn't about to either. He knew his friend; there was no way he bought the farm now. Not after all they'd been through. Still, someone had to respond, and he was the next one down on Hitman flight.
"This is Hitman 2 here. Comic and I are together, we are good on fuel but low on ammo. We haven't seen Monarch though."
"So you're saying my best pilot is nowhere to be found?" Silence followed after that. Normally such a declaration among mercs would be met with insults and rolled eyes, but not here. Everyone knew Monarch stood head and shoulders above the rest.
Naturally, Sicario's AWACS, callsign Galaxy, was there to break the ice.
"Don't worry boss, it's fineeeeeeee. Hitman 1 is probably just out of radar range."
"Doing what exactly?" Comic, pragmatic as ever, was the first to raise doubts. "He's not one to leave us out to dry."
"Oh, probably just stuck in a fight with some Feds. Dumbasses probably didn't get the ceasefire order."
Dip decided that this was the time to air his nagging thoughts.
"Or they broke it on purpose."
"Who the hell would do that?" This came from one of the other, less experienced merc pilots. "It was obvious the Federation had lost."
"Same guy willing to start Calamity all over again to win the war. Crimson 1."
Nobody was willing to respond to that, so Dip decided to press on.
"Before the flash, I heard a laugh. A crazy laugh, like that of a madman. I heard the same laugh when we shot down that bastard the first time." Diplomat didn't like it, but saying it out loud made Dip more certain he was right.
"So you're saying that he survived crashing in Prospero," Comic skeptically asked. "That place was a damn hellhole, there's no way he made it out."
"I think he actually has a point there, Mic." Galaxy, surprisingly, backed up Dip's hypothesis. "Before, the flash I picked up an increase in cordium signatures-"
This met with a wide range of responses on comms, from denial to outright fear that another cordium warhead had been used. No one wanted the world to explode again.
"Now, now, it wasn't a warhead. Do you see the ground erupting?" Galaxy clarified his point. "It wasn't as big a spike, just enough to suggest the usage of some cordium-powered tech. Likely another prototype plane. I'm willing to bet money that Crimson 1 was flying that jet, and he caused the flash that disorientated all of us.
Galaxy then lowered his voice, and Diplomat could hear the mirth in his voice. "It also caused Diplomat to almost pancake himself into the ground."
"OH, COME ON!" Diplomat groaned as the entire net broke up laughing.
"Ha HA, you think you could get away with almost slamming yourself into the ground without me noticing? I saw the whole thing on radar Dip, you ain't getting off that easily."
"Focus Galaxy, we don't have time to mess around." Kaiser seemed to be the only one to not be amused.
"Fine, fine, I'll get back to-wait, hang on. I think I finally have an IF signal. Give me a sec to locate it." Galaxy switched to another channel. The tension over the net was palpable; the previous humor was instantly forgotten. Everyone was eager to get some sort of news about Presidia. After a few minutes, Galaxy came back on.
"So I got good news and bad news. Good news is we have a base to land at. A Cascadian IF force has seized the Presidian International Airport and is ready to accept aircraft. Apparently, Ronin's with them."
"Good to hear they made it." Diplomat silently agreed with Kaiser. Sicario's special ops team had been invaluable for several of Hitman's missions. "What's the bad news?"
"Well…" Galaxy seemed to hesitate at that. "They say the airport isn't in Presidia. They don't even think we're in Cascadia anymore."
AK-74M stood in front of the mirror at parade rest. She gave her uniform one last look over. She was wearing Russian military-issue pants and a jacket, both freshly cleaned and ironed. She also wore a red beret to complete her professional look (insignia removed of course). Her white hair was let out of its normal ponytail, allowing it to hang down her back. Since this was a formal meeting, she had forgone her normal cloak and combat rig in favor of a red skirt over her pants. On its right side was the coat of arms of her new employer, Griffin & Kryuger Private Security Contracting, which gleamed under the overhead lights.
It was a fancy name, but AK-74M knew it was just fancy corporate jargon to make the company more palatable to investors. G&K was a PMC, but having it spelled out on one's accounts sheet that one was buying stock in mercenaries was distasteful, even if said PMC was the most successful in the Neo-Soviet Union.
With a final tug of her cap, AK-74M judged she was ready for the meeting. It was important to make a good first impression by being professional. However, she still had one concern.
Why does Griffin's Chief Operations Officer want to talk to me, a T-Doll employee on her first day?
When AK-74M first arrived at Griffin's HQ in southern Ukraine, she had expected to wait in a barracks for a few days, then be assigned to one of Griffin's many Sectors of responsibility. However, when she landed she was immediately told that she was expected to attend a meeting with Miss Helian, Griffin's second in command and overseer of day-to-day operations. She was given a few hours to get ready, then led to a waiting room, where she now was.
AK-74M paced to a nearby chair, considering the possible explanations one by one.
She immediately dismissed the idea she was being called in to be reprimanded. She had fulfilled every aspect of her basic training and made sure she followed the rules to the letter.
She also found it unlikely that she was there to be given a commendation. She had only just started, after all. Nothing she had done was particularly beneficial to the company, at least not yet.
She briefly considered that all new T-Dolls in Griffin's employ got a send-off from Miss Helian. It was good for a leader to show their face and at least attempt to establish a personal connection with their soldiers. Doing so made it more likely they would listen to orders, especially when things got… unpleasant.
Yet, she decided that couldn't be it either, for two reasons. First, Griffin had hundreds of T-Doll employees. They made up the entire frontline force of the company, and personally meeting every single one would take up far too much time. Second, while Griffin had a reputation of treating its T-Dolls fairly, she was also well familiar that T-Dolls were often not seen as equal to humans, often being seen as nothing more than robots. G&K might have been better than most but she doubted that there was full equality, and unless Miss Helian had a habit of personally greeting every new employee, human or T-Doll, she doubted Miss Helian purposefully sought out every new combat android that walked onto her base.
That left AK-74M with one possible conclusion. Her performance at her training had earned her an echelon leader's slot, and she was being briefed in with her new Commander. It wasn't a full-proof theory, but that was the best she could come up given the evidence.
Except for one nagging thought.
She could've found out about your service during World War 3…
AK-74M crushed the thought with extreme prejudice. Anything related to her service was classified and buried. Her superiors had made sure of it.
"Umm, 74M?"
AK-74M had been so lost in thought that she hadn't noticed that someone had approached her. Of course, she didn't let that show on her face. She turned to give the messenger her signature impassive stare.
"Yes, what is-" She stopped mid-turn and almost let her face slip.
The woman standing before her was wearing one of the most flamboyant outfits she had ever seen. It was a bright red. pleated strapless dress. The top of it went up to her neck and it also had decorative sleeves. Hanging over the dress were several large red and blue ribbons that looked straight out of one of those gaudy fashion shows in Paris. Brown boots, tight black pants, and a black cap completed the ridiculous get-up. AK-74M briefly considered running a diagnostic on her eyes to make sure that she was indeed seeing things right.
I know Griffin has no official uniform policy, but this is absurd.
The woman didn't seem to notice AK-74M's concern.
"Oh, good, I have the right T-Doll. Helian is ready for you in the meeting room." AK-74M decided that it wasn't the right time to bring up her concerns over the woman's outfit.
"Thank you, Miss…"
"Oh, you can just call me Lewis. I'm Miss Helian's T-Doll adjutant." Lewis smiled. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise. Could you please lead me towards the meeting room?"
"Of course. Right this way." Lewis turned and set off out the door and down the corridor. AK-74M followed.
"Nice outfit by the way. I'm sure Miss Helian will appreciate the formal military attire." Lewis looked AK-74M up and down.
"This is my normal outfit," 74M responded. This gave Lewis pause.
"Uhhh, you don't have to wear that all the time here." Lewis looked back towards the end of the corridor. "Griffin is rather lax with the dress code."
"I'm well aware, I just find this outfit functional and comfortable enough for everyday use. I don't really need anything else." She decided to slip in a comment about Lewis' outfit. "Combat soldiers can't really afford to wear dresses."
"Oh, we don't mind that last part." Lewis didn't pick up on the barb. "Miss. Helian is fine with my outfit at least."
That brought AK-74M to a halt.
"You're a combat unit?"
"Yes, I did say I was a T-Doll." Lewis stopped, confusion evident on her face.
"I thought Griffin named their T-Dolls after the weapons they carried." It was the reason AK-74M was now named after the Russian service rifle. She had chosen it out of the available list of options as seemingly the most logical choice available. A reliable, Soviet firearm that she believed was the best of the AK series.
"Oh, I am named after my weapon. I use the Lewis machine gun," she said, as if it wasn't the most ridiculous thing in the world.
"You use…the Lewis machine gun?" AK-74M added her ears to the diagnostics list.
"Yep."
"The same Lewis machine gun from the First World War?"
"Yep! It has a proud history, and I'm happy to use it!" Lewis beamed at AK-74M, then turned around and kept walking.
"I…see…" AK-74M stared at Lewis' retreating form, wondering just how exactly this company had become the most successful in the Eastern Bloc.
"And here we are." Lewis opened the door to a large meeting room. Inside were three individuals seated around an oval wooden table. On the right was a nervous-looking man in a business suit, On the left was another man in a business suit, this one looking frustrated. And in the middle wearing a monocle and the red coat of Griffin Commanders, was Miss Helian. Notably, no other Commander was present, so AK-74M concluded that her earlier theory was incorrect.
"Good, you're here." Helian fixed her eyes on AK-74M, and she reacted instantly. With the precision of endless practice, she stood at attention and saluted her superior.
"Tactical Doll AK-74M, reporting as requested, ma'am." AK-74M stayed still, only to have Lewis brush past her with only a half-hearted salute. She wondered whether the machine gunner's behavior was a result of her apparent eccentricities or just another unconventional company policy. She decided the latter, considering this was Helian's personal aide.
"Your tea, Miss Helian." Lewis set a cup down in front of the boss, and the woman smiled.
"Thank you, Lewis." Helian took a small sip and then set the cup down. "At ease, 74M. You can have a seat." AK-74M relaxed and slid into the closest seat next to her.
"Alright, now we can finally begin." Helian's commanding voice filled the room. "74M, since you arrived last I'll introduce you to our other attendees."
Helian gestured to the man to 74M's right. "This is Mr. Kedrov, Griffin's head of transportation and logistics." Mr. Kedrov smiled and gave a small wave.
Helian then gestured to the other man. "And this is Mr. Dayneko, our liaison from the regional government in charge of the territory we are assigned to protect." Dayneko gave a short nod, which AK-74M returned. She also nodded to Kedrov.
"Now that we all know each other, let's begin." Helian's voice once again instantly drew everyone's full attention back to her. AK-74M silently approved of her ability to command a meeting. Certainly helped keep things smooth. More concerning though was that AK-74M had been invited to what was clearly a high-level corporate meeting on her first day, and she could not figure out why. Helian's opening statement failed to clarify this.
"This meeting is about a sudden spike in losses of our cargo aircraft. These aircraft carry food and supplies to villages under our jurisdiction." Dayneko cleared his voice, and Helian gestured for him to go ahead.
"If I may be frank, these supplies are essential for our settlements to survive. Ground transportation is still vulnerable to bandits, so if supplies fail to arrive through the air, the people will quite frankly starve. As we obviously can't have settlements collapse from lack of food and materials, this problem needs to be solved immediately." The man slammed his fist on the table. "The government believes that this issue has continued for far too long, and I hope that the reason you've called this meeting is that you finally have a solution."
"Calm down, Mr. Dayneko." Helian brought up a hand to stop the man's anger. "Griffin is well aware of the government's position, and you will have your solution. Mr. Kedrov has finished his report on the cause of our losses."
"Thank you, ma'am." Kedrov pulled a few papers out of a briefcase, set them on the table, and began reading. "When the aircraft started going down, investigation teams sent to the crash sites discovered evidence of what appears to be missile impacts on each craft. Additionally, some of the teams encountered Sangvis patrols near the aircraft, and others showed signs of being looted." He shuffled through the papers some more, then seemed to find the page he was looking for.
"What's most concerning is that all crashed aircraft had their "black box" flight recorder either removed or destroyed, and all crew members were shot dead on site. Based on the available evidence, we believe that Sangvis Ferri has developed an anti-aircraft weapon and is using it to target our transports."
"Impossible." Dayneko cut off Kedrov. "Sangvis doesn't have any anti-air capability that can reach our cargo flights."
"On the contrary, Mr. Dayneko, Sangvis Ferri has been known to develop its own technology. We are already aware of a new long-range artillery system that they have employed in combat operations against our forces," Helian responded. "Mr. Kedrov, please continue."
"Uh, right, let's see." Kedrov flipped to the last page. "In order to counter this new threat, the transportation department needs more information on the weapon SF is using on our flights. Particularly, the data on the flight recorders would be most helpful. We would also like to have the ability to rescue any more flight crews that go down."
"Therefore, the logistics department proposes the creation of a dedicated Combat Search And Rescue team. This team should be able to deploy at a moment's notice any distress call from cargo aircraft and rescue crewmembers and retrieve flight recorders. Once these operations have gained enough intel to figure out exactly what kind of weapon SF is using, we can adapt to avoid further losses."
"Creating a brand new team," Dayneko remarked, "sounds like something that would take a lot of time. Time we don't have. Can't you just use existing teams?"
"Unfortunately, no." Helian folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. "All of our sectors already have their hands full fending off Sangvis assaults. We'll have to form a new team for the reserves we have here at HQ."
Ah, so that's what I'm here for.
AK-74M now had the information she was missing. G&K needed a CSAR team for downed birds, and since she was attending this meeting she was almost certain earmarked to be a member. However, she still had a few questions, and now seemed like the best time to ask them.
"Excuse me, can I ask about a few things ma'am?" All three meeting members looked at her. After a moment, Helian answered her.
"Go ahead, 74M."
"Thank you." AK-74M cleared her throat. "First, given that it is my first day on combat duty, can you give some additional clarification on the situation at the front? This would help explain the need for a new dedicated team."
"That is doable." Helian turned to her aide. "Lewis, bring up the map."
"Yes, ma'am." Lewis tapped a few buttons on a console and a map of the European countries along the Black Sea appeared on a screen built into the walls. Blue areas outlined Griffin's various sectors of responsibility, while an angry red blob in Romania represented the core territory of Sangvis Ferri, a doll manufacturing company whose AI had gone rogue, taken over all of its dolls and factories, and began attacking humans. AK-74M knew that Griffin's main contract with the Soviet government was to contain the spread of SF.
From the map, it was apparent things weren't going well.
"A few months ago, we began experiencing a large uptick of Sangvis attacks. This began with a major battle in Sector 8, which forced us to abandon the Sector." Helian pointed to a greyed-out area on the map. "This was followed by a major attack on Sector 5, which we managed to repel."
"Since then, we've faced constant Sangvis probing assaults along nearly every section of the front." Helian pointed to several arrows stabbing into the Griffin sectors. "Our Commanders are already reporting that the number of troops we have is barely sufficient to hold the current frontline. We can't risk pulling any echelons back to form the CSAR team."
"Thank you, ma'am. This was enlightening." AK-74M also saw Dayneko nodding, which was good. Helping her superior calm down the government liaison would certainly boost her relationship with Griffin's Chief Operations Officer. Still, she had one more thing to ask.
"My second question is who has been selected to lead this team?" Helian raised an eyebrow at that question. "Combat Search And Rescue is a difficult task, so the leader should be experienced and competent." AK-74M assumed Helian would already be aware of this, of course. She just wanted to learn who her team leader would be.
"Experienced and competent, hmm?" Helian leaned back in her chair and met AK-74M's eyes. "Well, I do believe you meet those qualifications, Klara."
AK-74M froze. Slowly, her expression hardened into a death glare. She gripped the table and leaned forward.
"What. Was. That?" The combination of her stare and her quiet serious tone caused both Dayneko and Kedrov to pale and scoot their chairs further away from her. Even Lewis had to look away. Only Helian matched her gaze.
"AK-74M," Helian began, "we are well aware of your time spent serving the NUSSR." Helian grabbed a folder from a bag and opened it, flipping through the contents.
"How?"
"Well, it just so happens that one of your friends from the military now happens to be one of our esteemed employees," Helian continued. "When he found out you were joining, he was happy to tell us all about his experiences working with you. Once we knew what we were looking for, Griffin's ties with the military allowed us to get what we wanted."
"What do you know?" AK-74M didn't back down yet.
"Enough to see that you are easily able to fulfill the role of a CSAR team leader." Helian began reading from the files. "Military T-Doll designated KR-1401. Delivered by IOP to the KCCO under an experimental program testing the effectiveness of Dolls in special operations units. Assigned to a Spetsnaz team under the command of a "Lt. Yegor". Quickly established a reputation for completing missions effectively and for volunteering to perform highly dangerous duties. Became well-liked among squad mates, who nicknamed you "Klara". Served for 3 years doing recon, sabotage, and SAR behind enemy lines. And," Helian raised her eyebrow as she spoke, "awarded the medal 'For Distinction in Military Service', 2nd class, due to actions in Poland and Germany during the war." Helian set down the folder and met AK-74M's gaze once more.
"Now we have several former Soviet dolls on staff here at Griffin, but I haven't even heard of one that earned a combat medal before."
AK-74M stared for a few more seconds before closing her eyes. She slumped back in her seat. Helian had made her point.
"I understand. I'll be the echelon leader." Helian smiled, and everyone else in the room sighed in relief at the fact that no, the ex-Spetsnaz member wasn't going to attack them. "I have a request though."
"What is it?"
"I get to choose my team."
"Done. Pick from anyone available here at HQ."
AK-74M was surprised that Helian accepted it so easily. She had mentally prepared several arguments for why hand-picking the team was necessary as she had expected push-back.
I guess Griffin is more hands-off with controlling their dolls.
"Now if that's all the questions you have, 74M, you're dismissed. Lewis will send you your bunk location and a list of candidates."
AK-74M immediately shot to her feet, gave a sharp salute, and then marched out of the room. She could feel the eyes on her back as she left, not that she particularly cared.
However, instead of going to the barracks, she set off to find the hangar. She had a suspicion of who exactly that "friend" was that Helian mentioned.
A/N: Hello dear reader, and welcome to my first attempt at a long fic.
This story was born of the question, "What if Griffin had air support?". Right now, the starting point is right after the events of Chapter 7 of Girls Frontline, and I will be more or less sticking to the events of the story (modified for the addition of Sicario).
I love both Project Wingman and GFL, and I want to keep this story open to fans of both games. If you noticed the non-insignificant amount of exposition in this chapter, this is the reason for it.
This first arc is gonna be detailing how the two sides meet. Next chapter we get to meet (most of) 74M's team, and Sicario gets situated into their new (temporary) base.
As always, thank you Branded for volunteering to beta this chapter, and thank you reader for taking your time to read this story.
You can chat with me, Branded, and a bunch of other GFL authors over on the GFL Fanfic Discord Server: discord . gg / 4pTJbbSKR5 (remove spaces)
See you next time!