Chapter Eleven
Four days later, Hotel Garni Glockenstuhl, Mayrhofen, Austrian Alps
A reception was being held, by a pair of UralPharma's board of directors members, hosting it for some of their foreign investors, alongside a delegation from Tai Yong. Ostensibly under Madalyuk's patronage, but the man's communique to the Collective contradicted that. The intel provided only confirmed his suspicions and his own investigation on a planned internal takeover, andd he had requested assistance, in not only apprehending the 'traitors', as he called them, but also sending an unambiguous message to the other two, and their shadowy co-conspirators. He was scared... but he was also determined not to cave-in to the pressure.
22:30 evening...
~"In position."~ - Irwine's subvocal tone came over Yelena Fedorova's Infolink, as the man, clad in a full-body sealed Grayscale X combat armour, rappelled from a low-hovering stealth VTOL, to take position atop of a church tower, with a Whisperhead sniper rifle, and a low-frequency laser designator device. The aircraft instantly weered away, then dipped below, to the other side, using the buildings to cover its departure.
The ex-Marine went prone, setting up a tripod, his helmeted mirrored visor close to the sniper's scope. He peered just long enough to make observations, then closed the scope's cap, to prevent any possible shine. The moon was high up, and there was enough light from it to make that a possibility.
~"Hawk. Got eyes-on five, on the rooftops surrounding the hotel. Tarvos, spec-ops. Three snipers, two sneakers, in those cloaking-suits. Currently unpowered."~
~"Mantis. Hold for my go, then terminate. Sneakers first. Stay in thermal-shielded mode. No info on what kinds of thermals are active."~ - the woman's subvocal reply came.
~"Hawk, check. Hurry up. This thing's on a clock."~ - he replied, glancing at his helmet HUD's power readout. The fully-sealed suit was an improvement over the Z model he used before, doing a better job masking his thermal signature, but also with a correspondingly higher power drain.
"Excuse me, this is a private function... and especially no hanzers allowed." - a tuxedo-dressed valet speaking Austrian-accented English, approached Yelena, as she stepped out of the car, making a beeline for the hotel entrance.
Dressed in a long winter coat, that did a good job hiding her thermoptic armour beneath.
She didn't give the man a second glance, brushing past him in a sinously graceful gait, to the wide stairs leading to the lobby entrance. Her lower lip just twitched briefly, at the name-calling.
"Exc—EXCUSE ME...!" - the young valet reached to grab at her left sleeve, as a pair of Tarvos security personnel shifted on their feet, just inside the lobby, fingering their holstered sidearms.
She moved. Grabbing the man's hand at her shoulder, she gave it a sharp twist at the wrist, making him lurch forward in reaction, trying to relieve the pressure – directly into a measured knee to his chin. With a grunt, he went down like a sack of potatoes.
"HEY! Call in b-" - one of the Tarvos mercs began, reaching for the weapon as the other rushed her with a sparking stun-truncheon. He never got to finish the sentence, as Yelena alreay had her suppressed Zenith out and aimed, putting two clinical shots in his chest and throat, through the glass. He was dead before he hit the floor.
~"Begin."~ - was her subvocal order to Irwine, at the same moment, as she dodged a swing from the second merc.
The alarm sounded, as the merc tried anothe swing, a vicious overhead which she parried with her forearm, ignoring a jolt of current through it. At the same time he body-slammed her, trying to tackle her to the ground. She twisted with the slam, redirecting his momentum, sending him rushing past. Before he could fully turn around to face her again, her metal foot connected with the back of his helmeted head in a crisp roundhouse kick, fracturing his skull under the helmet, and sending him face-down to the floor, knocked out, likely with a severe concussion. For a briefest moment, she leveled the Zenith at the guard's prostrate form...
...but didn't fire, moving into the hotel.
Screams of panic ensued as the few civilians in the lobby cowered in terror, some just standing frozen, others throwing themselves on the carpeted floor. Not paying them any attention, Yelena shucked out of the coat, now only in her green-on-black thermoptic oufit, pulling the second Zenith out. She dashed towards the reception desk, then sprang into a jump, busting through the safety glass around the desk with a devastatingly powerful kick of her metal feet.
The receptionist woman's scream was cut short, by a measured hinge-chop of Yelena's palm to the side of her neck, knocking her out, as she put a pair of shots into the control panel for the emergency exits. Designed to seal in case of external threat, the doors now became cage doors, for everyone inside the hotel, as they lowered shut.
~"Exits sealed. Status?"~ - she inquired.
~"Sneakers down, two snipers down, one slipped out of sight. The bird's began comms jamming over the whole area. I'm repositioning. Need to reacquire that last guy..."~ - Irwine was prompt in responding.
With a satisfied nod, the woman moved on. So far, so good.
A pair of doors opened off to the side, near the elevators leading up, admitting a trio of Tarvos troops, their TMPs out and tracking... as they opened fire on a flash of displaced lighting, the only thing visible as she cloaked, and leaped aside.
Bullets whizzed through empty air, wrecking the reception booth, as the trio advanced forward. Suddenly, one of the mercs went down, the woman's chestplate sprouting a quartet of armour-piercing 10mm holes, two rounds stopped by the chestpiece, two penetrating. She groaned in pain on the floor, still alive.
The other two mercs shifted aim towards a... wavering, flickering of air off to the side of the booth, near a potted plant. Once again, their fire only hit the wall, sending chips flying outwards, as the... flickering shape seemed to disappear.
"Don't see anything! Switch to EM imaging!" - one yelled, as they both took cover behind the far side of the booth, reaching for a switch next to their helmet visors.
A brush of electrified air to the back of that man's neck was his only warning. He spun... only for a karambit blade, held by a flickering humanoid shape, to inscribe a deep slash across his throat. Holding her gurgling, impromptu human shield upright, Yelena used the merc as cover from the last guy, letting off a burst which finished off his buddy... while she put two more Zenith shots into the last one's chest and throat.
"Ty slishkom medlennyy..."
She murmured contemptuously, letting go of of the dead body, reappearing out of thin air, before she rushed off, towards the elevators. As she passed by the downed troop, Yelena paused... noticing the paleness of the woman's face under the helmet, and the telltale seepage of blood from the corners of her mouth... she was mortally wounded, riving in pain, and would only suffer until she expired. With a grimace, she put the dying female Tarvos guard out of her misery with a single shot to the forehead.
Up on the sixth floor, the Tai Yong delegates, the hosts, and the investors jumped out of their seats, at the subdued alarm sound from somewhere below, looking at each other in confusion mixed with nervousness.
"What's going on...?!" - one demanded, as one of the two UralPharma board members tried to calm everyone down. But no sooner did he make the attempt, that a squad of Tarvos Security guards burst in.
"Sir, we've got unidentified intruders below... I'm gonna have to ask everyone to accompany us to a safer location until the situation has been brought under control." - the squad leader spoke, trying hard to maintain an officious tone.
"Safer location... ? What IS going on?! Who's down there?" - one of the investors demanded imperiously, turning to face the two board members.
"You assured us of anonymity of this place and our meeting-" - before the board member cut her off.
"Do not worry, I'm certain the situation will be resolved! For now, let's not impede our security forces..." - nodding at the squad leader.
Everyone was led out of the conference room, down a wide corridor towards an elevator leading to the roof, before a distorted tone came over the squad leader's radio.
~"Sir... zzzt... external comms are down... zzzzztt... cell lines are... zzzt.... jammed! We've los-zzzzzzzt... we've lost contact with the roof unit! Getting... zzzzt... reports of sniper fire... zzzzt."~
~"Hawk. Bird reports there's a chopper incoming! Looks like they plan to evacuate via rooftop."~ - Irwine reported urgently.
He was currently trying to find a new overwatch spot, since his previous churchbell position was identified. He was under no illusion of it... having overheard a couple of telltale splinterings of masonry, as he descended. Someone was taking shots at him. First precept of sharpshooting – reposition. Ideally after every shot taken, assuming the enemy knows your approximate location in advance. In his case he had the element of surprise, allowing him to take a few shots, not to mention his thermal-retardant outfit. But going back to the churchbell was suicide.
He failed to get that last enemy sniper. And that guy was undoubtedly gunning for him. It had become a sniper-duel now. Easily the most dangerous and unpredictable kind of engagement.
~"Mantis. Lock it down! Take out the pilots as they land! We cannot let the marks escape."~ - the woman's urgent subvocal reply came.
~"Negative! Position compromised. Enemy snipers not suppressed! I'm repositioning. Out."~ - he replied, closing the link.
He could imagine Yelena's expression at that, but there was no helping it. Technically, he screwed up – he should've gotten all of them. But that last guy was on-point in reacting. In spite of himself, Irwine had to give the man credit for that. And there was no doubt he was now the hunted. Not just by that enemy sniper, but by whoever else they had outside that they missed during initial recon.
Yelena scowled to herself. For a briefest moment, her mind flashed to the late Scott Hardesty and their... less-then-stellar... rapport during assignments. But just as quickly, she banished the thought. Comparing Irwine to that arrogant, insufferable idiot was doing her lover a disservice of massive proportions.
For one, Hardesty would not have repositioned so quickly... he would've made it personal and got counter-sniped by now. Like he did back then... idiot.
She thought, recalling the assignment in Tokyo, almost two years ago, while she was still a Tyrant operative. One of the only two assignments where she was paired with the late sniper directly. It was a mess, and the blame lay as much on Hardesty's shoulders as on faulty intel.
In hindsight, the situation was similar to this, in some respects. They were infiltrating a building for the purposes of asset apprehension and extraction. In that case it was a computer manufacturing plant, not a hotel, but the assignment was strikingly similar. One operative out on overwatch, locking down the place, the other inside, searching for assets.
In the end, the extraction was a failure, as she was ordered to switch to secondary protocol and terminate the assets, following Hardesty's wounding in a shootout with the enemy outside. That was intel's fault, not anticipating timely reinforcements from the enemy, and the intel officer in charge of the mission specifics was promptly executed by Namir, upon abortion... but it was also Hardesty's fault, for biting off more then he could chew. With no one left to cover the extraction, scrubbing the mission and getting out was the only option. And they got out... by the narrowest of margins. One of Yelena's more... close-cut brushes with death.
She could only hope this wouldn't be a repeat of that debacle. But unlike that time... she had faith in Irwine. He was not suffering from an acute case of ego-driven arrogance, like Hardesty was. He would rise to the challenge and conquer it. As for giving him time to do that, and keeping the assets from reaching the rooftop before he had it under control and could interdict the chopper pilots...
...that was her job now. Of course, she could make a beeline for the roof helipad herself, but that would leave her exposed, since she took Irwine's admonition seriously, that the enemy snipers were not suppressed yet. Even her cloaking wouldn't necessarily protect her, since at least some of the Tarvos troops were equipped with EM-imaging visors in their helmets. Not to mention leave a way out via the main entrance, or the basement garage, for their quarry to get away.
As the elevator stopped on the sixth floor, she hopped up, wedging herself just below the ceiling, hands and legs outstretched. Just as the doors slid open, she cloaked...
...as a barrage of automatic fire zipped through empty air just beneath her, peppering the back wall of the lift.
"Grenade out!" - a helmet-filtered voice echoed from outside, preceeding a staccatto of rushing footsteps, clearly troops taking cover.
Not bad.
Yelena scowled in a flash, dropping down just as a cylindrical object clattered into the car. Clearly they weren't born yesterday, and she caught a fleeting glimpse of the device as she rushed out... a white-phosphorous incendiary grenade.
As she threw herself sideways into the cross-corridor, the elevator entrance gouting a plume of flame, she revised her opinion of her adversaries – upward. A WP device would not damage the structure or the machinery like a standard frag grenade, yet would incinerate anyone caught in the blast. They wanted the elevator to remain operational.
Useful information.
"What was that...?!" - one trooper exclaimed, as a soft -thud- echoed next to a pair of them, hunkering down from the blast.
The two glanced to the side, to notice a strange shimmer of air...
"Cloak! Saturate!" - that man shouted, bringing his Sanction to bear.
Yelena rolled, scissoring her long legs out, even as a pair of flechettes buried themselves into her torso armour's side plate, one penetrating deep enough to draw blood. Her metallic foot caught the man behind his left knee, knocking him off balance, as the rest of the shots went wide.
The second trooper dithered for a fleeting moment, trying to focus his eyes at the shimmer – clearly less experienced – before a shimmering, half-cloaked blade caught him behind his right hamstring, severing it directly through the back of his boot. With a yelp of pain, he collapsed off his feet, firing off a burst in reflex, that went wide.
One moment was all Yelena needed.
She kipped-up to her feet, half-decloaked, as the first Tarvos trooper regained his balance, sweeping in front of him with a sustained burst. Jumping upwards, using the wall as a kick-off point, the woman flipped over the sweeping burst, drop-kicking him in the head as she fell back down to land in a half-controlled manner. His helmet absorbed most of the force, but he still saw stars, stumbling against the wall, half KO-d. Before he could shift his aim down to the ground, she had a Zenith out, putting a clinical round through his throat.
Scrambling back to her feet, she sprinted down the cross-corridor, reestablishing her cloak, even as footsteps approached from behind the corner – the rest of the squad, weapons ready.
"THERE!" - the leader shouted, spotting a shimmering shape – just vanishing behind the far corner, before he could let off a burst. He flipped his helmet visor to EM mode.
"Two of you, cut 'em off! Rest, pursue!" - he motioned for the two rear-most troops to take a perpendicular hallway, with intent to catch the fleeing enemy in a sandwich, while he and the other three troops sprinted down the corridor. The hamstring-slashed trooper crawled over to the side, out of the way. He couldn't stand.
But she wasn't going to play that game. As soon as she was behind the corner, she kicked-open one of the vacant rooms' doors, going inside... then out to the closed window, breaking it open, and climbing out to the windowsill. There was a ledge just below, allowing her to sidle-over almost all the way to the far side of the facade, and a row of other closed windows.
Keeping balance was going to be tricky as she flattened against the facade, and the height was substantial, but vertigo was something Yelena never suffered from. Allowing herself a wicked grin, she dipped a hand into her belt satchel, pulling out a gas grenade. Setting it to timed-detonation mode, she keyed it for roughly 20 seconds, and tossed it back into the room. With any luck... they would rush right into it.
I missed this, the past few months after Panama. Training and keeping up my edge, is one thing... but God I missed this! Taking the fight to the enemy.
Was Yelena's thought. As much... ambivalence, as she now carried, the rush of adrenaline at the close brush with death, the thrill of battle, the piercing pain of the flechette partway in her flank, and the satisfaction of victory, was still there. She loved to fight. Like it or not... compelled to, or not... it was what she was good at. Among the best in the world, at.
What did change, however... was the underlying mindset. Six months ago, she would have made no distinction between enemy combatants and collateral civilians. That lobby... would've been a slaughterhouse. The receptionist, the other civvies... all of them would've been added to the count. That first trooper she knocked out, she would've finished him off. The one just now, that she hamstrung... the same.
The gas grenade... it would've been a frag grenade, six months ago. The instincts and muscle-memories remained... but they no longer served to fulfill a darker purpose. She had moved beyond her programming. Beyond her rage. Beyond the killer instinct. Now it was just... combat instinct, and clarity of purpose. Damaging their interests, and avenging her family. Killing when necessary, but not an end unto itself.
She was most of the way along the ledge, about to try another window, before a cloud of knockout gas billowed out from the room she came from. She thought she heard coughing and retching noises... at least some of them would be down for the count.
Breaking into another room, she headed back into the hallways. At least for the time being, that squad would be busy dealing with their casualties, and would not pursue... leaving her to track down her objectives. Not too much time had passed... they were likely still on this floor, on their way to the roof access elevator.
