Halo: Feet First

by MikeDice

Halo: Feet First covers the story of a team of UNSC Orbital Drop Shock Troopers of the 7th Battalion, 105th Shock Troops Division. The main character, Duncan Iris, faces the full horror of the covenant war effort against humanity as well as the brave retaliation of outnumbered and outgunned UNSC forces. However, he also witnesses the turning of the tides as the war progresses.

165. Battle of Reach - Chapter 38 (Venatus)

Chapter 38 – Venatus

August 20th, 2552 - (02:51 Hours - Military Calendar)

Epsilon Eridani System, Reach

Viery Territory, New Alexandria

Havadi Goodwan Coffee Shop

:********:

Lang was extra careful with his adjustments. At certain ranges, the Stanchion's scope would have a harder time focusing. Fastening the dial between thumb and forefinger, he slowly scrolled it along, altering the clarity to match the distance.

The rain was unrelenting. It wafted past his optics as it showered the city, pushed into rippling torrents by the occasional burst of the region's easterlies. It grew so strong that eventually even the shade of one of the coffee shop's overhangs rippled above him like curtains in a breeze. Still, the cover was sufficient to keep him dry as he worked.

They had chosen a table out on the west side of the patio. The position offered a perfect view without the risk of obstruction from the windows. The wind and rain were secondary considerations against the upside of a good vantage point.

He leaned into the gun at a near crouch, relying on the bipod that he'd set on the table to balance off his weight. He felt like a hunter in a forest, only in his case he was hunting prey that was way out of his league.

Far out to the west, more than half a kilometer away, beneath an aurorean glow was the site of the Covenant landing zone.

They had settled in a whole lot faster than he thought they would.

The zone had been established within a large, urban clearing of the city where the surrounding buildings suddenly dropped off like well gardened hedges. Set in the space in between them was a collection of alien structures reminiscent of a forward operating base. High walls of opalescent nanolaminate had barriered off the encompassing streets and byways in interlocking layers of defense, creating miniature labyrinths along the perimeter. Squads of Grunts patrolled along the parapets of the outermost walls. They waddled past active shade turrets where their kin turned the powerful emplacements to and fro, scanning the area outside. Below them were vaulted entrances. Ramps extended from their thresholds to the base of the streets like the tongues of yawning mouths. As if the energy barriers that sealed the access points weren't enough, active Hunter pairs prowled the streets in front of them. Moving alongside the scouring juggernauts were squads of shield-bearing Jackals that created checkpoints far ahead of the ramps, ensuring the existence of buffer zones between the walls and the city. Above them all, Jackal snipers stood watch atop observation towers. The commanding positions were spaced out every few hundred meters across the wall like joints in an arm. Even further above them were more of their kind. Pairs of hostile marksmen lurked on the shadowed rooftops of those buildings closest to their base of operations, expanding the buffer zone even further.

Those were just the defenses.

At one of the eastern entrances that he could see clearly, he watched the energy barrier flicker as its repulsion effects gave way. The rotund shape of a Wraith emerged from the other side. It crested the threshold and descended the ramp, allowing another to follow close behind. And another. Then three more. The Hunters and Jackals manning the checkpoints stepped aside, clearing a path for the armored convoy to hover on into the city.

He traced the lineup of tanks back through the entrance to the world beyond. It was like looking at the inner workings of an old grandfather clock. On the other side of the walls, several octagonal rings of varying sizes interlocked with one another. Upon closer inspection, the paralyzed clockwork of purples, blues and reds resolved into layers of structures. An organized arrangement of octahedrons, globe shaped ellipsoids and spidering architecture made up their composition. The collection of shining lights and alien symmetries resembled manmade coral reefs, tangling with one another as well as the city to forge a metallic symbiosis. Each individual ring surrounded an enclosure of smaller landing pads. There dropships arrived to disgorge troops and supplies from their hangars or departed to bring them elsewhere. Individual Covenant were dispersed across the base like fine particles, higher concentrations here, lower ones there. They walked along impromptu roadways made between the structures or rode aboard fast-moving Ghosts and Revenants. There were so many that Lang couldn't get a solid gauge on their numbers, ultimately settling on a lowest estimate of several thousand.

Everything lay along the circumference of the main attraction. At the heart of it all was the primary landing zone. Just as he'd seen during the briefing, it was shaped like a starfish lying on top of a sand dollar. Instead of five points, it had six whose tips curled in on themselves as small pincers. An equal number of ramps descended down the slopes of the structure, leading away from a central platform. Aside from its own light, the platform as well as everything around it was completely engulfed in the illumination of a gravity beam.

Several hundred meters directly above it, the vast bulk of the corvette floated in place. At the center of its underbelly was a bright, cyclopean eye. From it came a column of silvery blue radiance that reminded Lang of a pilot light on a stove. The translucent line of the gravity lift bridged the gap between the corvette and the ground. Even as he looked, the shape of three Wraith tanks emerged from the belly of the ship. He watched them slowly descend down the height of the lift. A band of Brutes were there at the bottom to greet them. As soon as the first Wraith reached the platform, they ushered it down the nearest ramp, making way for the next to touchdown, and then the next.

He zoomed back up towards the corvette itself. Aside from the scores of Seraphs, Phantoms and Banshees that patrolled the local airspace, even more were trafficking in and out of the ship's hangar bays, going in for a refuel or heading out for long range reconnaissance.

The skies were abuzz with activity. The ground was no different.

To Lang, there was something downright intimidating about the whole situation. Almost overnight, the enemy had built a small town in the middle of the city he was supposed to protect.

An even more strenuous thought stole his concerns as his eyes shifted to the north and south. There were three more of these landing zones somewhere, one to the north of them, two more to the south. Then, to his surprise, an even more worrisome idea escaped his mouth without his own conscious awareness.

"We're going to...kill all these guys?"

"That's right." He heard the lieutenant commander say.

He glanced up at the 'LINK - NOBLE 2' sign that flashed red in a corner of his HUD. The Spartan's connection to his helmet ensured that she could see everything he did.

He briefly turned from his scope to the Spartan standing beside him. "Ourselves?"

She shook her head. "Negative. That's not our focus right now. Our objectives for the time being are the LZ and that ship."

"You said you wanted the Stanchion so you could see something, Noble-2." Mackley said. "Can I ask what specifically?"

Lang peeked over at him. His spotter was slouching in a nearby chair. His helmet's binocular attachment was over his visor, giving him a similar line of sight on their target area. Lang could almost feel the disappointment oozing off of him. Much to his chagrin, the sergeant had ended up spilling the beans about his injury to the lieutenant commander.

"Satellite reconnaissance can't show you everything." She replied. "Sometimes you need to get your eyes on something to pick up on the small details that it might miss. Right now, I need a solid view of our target buildings. Whiskey-4?"

Lang saw four Nav points appear on his HUD. "On it."

Scoping left, he followed the first to one of the skyscrapers on the south side of the landing zone. It looked a lot like discs piled up on top of one another into three distinct cylinders, each rising to a different height before peaking in the very middle. He zoomed in a bit more, slowly sighting down the individual floors until he spotted the signage at the center of the building, 'Naphtali Contractor Corporation'. He did a quick once over on his thermals and checked each level for signs of signatures, finding only a few scattered here and there.

"Alright, good." Kat replied. "Next one."

As the Nav point disappeared, he righted towards another building that stood on the north side. Its general shape held a close resemblance to a pocket lighter. He did a slow scan down its height, getting a good look at the activity on the streets below. Another sign came up in billboard letters: 'Imbrium Machine Complex'. Another thermal sweep came up empty.

"Two more."

Two Nav points remained, two locations to investigate. The closest he found on the eastern border of the zone, nestled between a pair of its outer perimeter walls. As it went up into the air, it held onto a curving belly that somehow gave it the appearance of both a backwards letter 'D' and an inverted conch shell. Unlike the others he'd seen, many of its levels were still well-lit. Even the signage above its ground floor was aglow: 'Triad Community Center'. Another full sweep of the heat signatures as well as the street below and he was finished.

"Last one."

He panned back across the expanse of the landing zone to the building that overlooked its western flank. It was the furthest away of the four as well as the simplest. It clung to the more rectangular, crystalline architecture that most of the city's commercial centers adhered to. The difference didn't come from the shape, however, but the aesthetic. He spotted several banners draped over its walls. Upon closer inspection, they displayed combos of fries, chicken wings and burgers. Caricatures of Moa birds peeked in from the sides to smile at the viewer. He felt a small smile of his own creeping across his face even as he sighted up to the sign at the top of the building: 'World Cuisine Eridani Headquarters'.

Lang wasn't part of Epsilon, but he at least had some inkling of where a certain radioman would want to be.

A short glance at the thermals yielded few if any signatures of note.

"Good." Kat said. "We just about have a lay of the land."

Lang thought so too. At least he did until something caught his eye. Panning back towards parts of the landing zone, he started to notice the pieces of human civilization buried beneath. The area was mostly paved save for a few grassy lots. A few of the trees remained, white magnolias and small pines that ran along paths with broken fences.

He realized then that it had once been another public square, a large one if it was able to catch the Covenant's interest. What he guessed at half a square kilometer of paved walkways ultimately led towards what used to be the heart of the area. Near the central lift, he zoomed in on the shattered remains of what looked like a small pool. There was an even smaller object at its center, a three-dimensional diamond shape jutting out of it. Using the measure of a pair of Brutes that were walking close by, he set the height of the object at around three meters tall. Even from this distance, he was almost sure he could make out lines of text engraved on its face.

He'd never been to this side of New Alexandria before. All the same, he sensed that there was some significance there that he was missing. He made a mental note to ask Epsilon about it later.

"Something else about that LZ you wanted to point out?" Kat asked.

He remembered the flickering 'LINK - NOBLE 2' was still on his HUD. "Sorry. I was just checking something out."

"Picking up on activity here." Mackley said, perking up as he did. "Not the LZ. Northwest, 300-, no, 330-meters out."

Lang peered back at the Spartan. She nodded and he righted the gun in that direction, settling on a dense clutch of buildings. They were just a few minutes' stroll northeast of the landing zone. He couldn't see anything.

"What're we looking for, Whiskey-3?" Kat asked.

"Switch to thermals."

Lang did just that and watched the world beyond his scope transform once again into a landscape of cold blues, moderate reds and hot yellows. Thanks to the cooling effect of the rain, most of the city in front of him was a labyrinth of blue shapes. It consequently made whatever warm spots there were stand out even more.

Though he could see the closest of the landing zone's perimeter walls as a red spot in a corner of his vision, most of his view was taken up by something else altogether. As it had turned out, the patch of buildings was so dense that it acted like a veil, hiding the true activity within. Where the surrounding streets were sparse of thermal signatures, he found them here in a worrying abundance, over a hundred of them. They were gathered together in clusters of 10 or 20, each spaced out a good distance from one another. Most of them seemed to be sitting down. Most, not all. A few of them were standing up. Some of these stood close to the clusters of seated signatures. Others were further off, walking about in patterns that he quickly recognized as patrols. A closer look confirmed his suspicions once he realized that the ones standing still and moving around were easily twice the size of those sitting down.

Due to the angle as well as the urban density, he couldn't tell if the crowds were inside one building or several. However, he knew one thing for a fact. That sergeant from the 109th had been right on the money.

He peered back at the lieutenant commander. "Noble-2?"

She didn't answer.

Slowly, he turned his eyes back to the scope, watching the thermals for a while longer before getting his answer.

"I think it's time we head back inside."

:********:

The Staff was half expecting the news. Part of it, he was. Part of it, he wasn't. In any case, he hadn't expected to like any update that came out of the lieutenant commander's mouth once she, Mackley and Lang came back inside.

Save for Hector, Yuri and Rico who were still on watch, everyone was called to the ground floor. Nevertheless, the three outside were kept in the loop via comms.

The rest of the platoon was assembled around the Spartan. Some were sitting, some standing, all listening. The Staff was in the former category. He leaned forward in his chair, feeling the weight of the shotgun shifting against his back as he paid attention to every detail.

Their target buildings were within close range of hostile positions. On the bright side, however, their interiors were for the most part clear of any forces. On the other hand, there was something of interest over to the northwest. What Sergeant Kalani had told them was true. At least to some extent, the Brutes had gathered surviving civilians together within the sector. He wasn't sure how many more of them the other teams might come across. For their part, their next course of action was clear to him even as Kat revised their strategy.

"As of now, we're working with two objectives, planting those charges and pulling recon on that area of interest to our northwest. By priority, the demo op tops our list. By proximity, the recon makes the most sense. My thinking is this, we slip by the location first, see what there is to see then move on to the main goal at the landing zone."

"Those people." Zack intruded. "What happens to them once we take care of that LZ?"

"Was wondering about that myself." Mito chimed in. "I feel bad about the pilot, but this is just way too big to pass over. If we cause havoc to that corvette, what's to stop them from executing everyone they have?"

"They won't have anyone to execute." Kat said, just as the Staff knew she would. "We're playing this by ear right now, but it looks like we're the only ones who'll be in a position to do anything about those captives. It will take the whole of Team 1 to plant those 168s."

She reached into a small compartment in her armor then pulled out her hand. In the dim light, her fingers were curled around a handheld detonator. "But it'll only take one of us to set them off."

The Staff watched the unspoken proposal dawn on the rest of the platoon before they said a word.

"Hostage rescue?" Nova asked.

"It's on the table."

"Once we get an idea of where they are and take care of those buildings, we'll sweep back around to extract them." Hector said over comms. "That's what you mean, right?"

"We? No." Kat said, shaking her head. "I'll be busy working with Team 2 to deploy our FIELD system on that corvette. You on the other hand? You'll be free to get the job done. If we pull this off just right, we can have our cake, eat it and give everyone else a slice."

Zack nodded agreeingly. "That's my kind of cake."

"There's not that many Brutes guarding them either." Lang argued. "It's not a bad deal."

Sitting across from the Staff, Sergeant Dalton looked over his shoulder at the sniper. "How much is not that many?"

"About two packs."

Nerves crept into his voice as his sergeant arched a doubtful brow. "Okay, maybe two and a half. Still-"

"That's nothing to scoff at." Daz rebutted. "That many would even give a Spartan team some trouble, and might I remind you, the LC just said we'll be out on our own."

At that, Mackley came up beside him, patting the identical container on his back. "Yeah, but we've got something that can more than make up the difference. You put us and the M99 in a good spot, decent angles, we can make easy work of whatever's down there."

"Along with any civvies unfortunate enough to be too close." Yuri said over comms.

"Ep-5's right." Dalton added. "This isn't Császári. Something like the Stanchion is just as likely to take out a Brute as it is to vaporize the two or three people sitting next to'em. Our tactics can't be exactly the same."

"But he's still right." The Staff said, crossing his arms. "Without support from Noble-2, we're going to need them on task for any kind of rescue effort. If anything, they can skim the enemy's longer ranged patrols in that part of the sector, preferably targets that aren't too close to those hostages. They can keep an entry and extraction corridor open while the rest of us mop things up inside."

"We'll stake out a good spot for you during the recon." Kat said. "Killing Brutes is great, but saving our own will be best. When we get within range, we'll need a solid idea of the layout of where they're being kept. Without it, we raise the chance of not getting as many people to safety as we could. Whiskey-3, 4, you'll come in handy there as well. You'll be their eyes and ears the whole time. You'll let them know whose where and how many. Hopefully, this rain will keep it so that heat distortions won't be a problem for you."

"Sounds good to me." Mackley said in celebratory fashion as he cast a sidelong glance at Dalton. "How about it, sarge?"

Dalton didn't so much as give him the time of day. "Brutes in close quarters isn't exactly our cup of tea, Noble-2. You're sure you can't spare us a few minutes after you get the Tick on that corvette?"

"I'm sure. Those minutes I could spare would be long after the lives of those civilians are considered forfeit."

The sergeant let out a long sigh. "Well...if it can't be helped."

Reznik stepped forward. "We talked about getting in there, but what about leaving? How's extraction going to work in the middle of all that?"

"That's the biggest issue." Kat said. "That's not to say it's one we can't solve. Originally, the hope was to evacuate everyone via Team 2's Phantom. Having those hostages changes things. I noticed a maglev station within 100-meters of where they are. It's a long shot, but then again, so is everything else in this plan. From what I learned; this platoon only recently came away from working transport security for the trams coming out of the 77th's green zone. You already have experience with what I'm suggesting."

"Back-up from Colonel Saraquez?" Renni thought aloud. "He sends over a tram or two then we'll be in and out."

"And those corvettes will be too busy to notice anything outside their immediate area." Rico seconded. "That works."

"Only if the 77th can spare them." Kat said. "With the Covenant air cover as thick as it is, something tells me they can. Still, when it comes to getting them out of the green zone to this side of the rivers, I'll need to work that part out. After we check in on the location, I should be able to factor them in. Ep-7, you'll be helping me with the long-range communique on that one."

"Perfect, 'cause I was starting to think I've been lugging this gear around for no reason."

"So, it's settled then?"

Out the corner of his eye, The Staff watched the question's originator with subdued interest. Duncan was standing not too far away. He'd been the quietest out of everyone. Ever since he'd come down from the second floor with one less mug in his hand than he'd gone up with, he hadn't said a word. The Staff wasn't sure what it was, but he seemed even more resolved than he was before.

"Not yet." Kat replied. "There's still the matter of breaking up into fireteams. If we're to stick to the operational timeline, our primary objectives are going to split us up into at least four, preferably with three to four troopers for each. I can lead one. Ep-1, Whiskey-1, I'm sure you can handle the other two. That leaves one more. I'm open to suggestions."

The Staff had been expecting that as well. "Ep-2?"

Nova nodded. "Roger that. What's the roster looking like?"

"Still open to recommendations." Kat said.

The Staff immediately seized the opening. "Given the circumstances, I'd say Ep-7, Whiskey-3 and 4 would be a good fit for you, ma'am. Long range communication and observation would be the best combination in your hands. I can take Fireteam 2, me, Ep-4 and Ep-5. For Fireteam 3, Whiskey-1, you can take Whiskey-2, 5 and Ep-10. Fireteam 4 goes to Ep-2 with Ep-6, 8 and 9. This way we balance out the explosives expertise a bit more evenly."

"You're good with bombs, Ep-4?" Rico questioned disbelievingly.

"No, that's 5." Hector said. "He's not too-too far behind you on that, believe it or not."

Kat looked to the Staff. "You're sure about this? That places you at the biggest disadvantage."

The Staff shrugged. "I can manage."

Across the way, Dalton leaned back into the conversation. "What about team objectives?"

The lieutenant commander raddled off the list in quick succession. "Fireteam 1 will handle the World Cuisine Eridani Headquarters to the west. It's the farthest and comes with the most risk so I'd rather be the one to take care of it. Fireteam 2, you're going south. The Naphtali Contractor Corp Building is all yours. Fireteam 3, Imbrium Machine Complex, north side. Lastly, Fireteam 4, you've got the Triad Community Center. It's the closest so it means you get to spend the least amount of time in the mud. Lucky you."

Zack's face contorted with confusion. "Mud?"

The Staff stifled a smirk. "How do you think we're getting to those buildings, Ep-7. We can't just walk out in the open now, can we?"

"Wait-wait-wait, but what do you mean by mud?"

"The sewers." Kat confirmed. "Part of the city's network of sewage tunnels runs under and around the square. I uploaded it to your TACMAPs back before we left the starport. It'll show you where we need to go to get where we need to be. Follow it closely."

The Staff watched his radioman slump in his seat, groaning as he did.

"It's Actium all over again."

He wasn't wrong.

Kat turned to him, then to the rest of the platoon. "You guys were at Actium?"

Dalton shook his head. "Not us. Epsilon."

"They've been around for a minute." Daz said almost pridefully.

Kat sized them up a moment longer. "I see. This will be different, reason being that we'll soon have the Navy out in force. Once we get this right, we'll be stacking the deck even more in our favor."

"Sewers, why'd it have to be sewers?" Zack groaned. "I just hope the worms haven't gotten down there already. I hate those things."

"Welcome to the club." Nova chided with no small amount of empathy.

"Then it's settled." Kat said. "We're just about ready to go. Before we head out, Ep-7, I'll need a secure line to NA Central and the rest of my team. We still have a few extra details that need sorting out."

Before Zack could reply, Lang spoke up.

"Oh, hey, I just remembered something. Mind if I..."

Kat nodded "Go ahead, Whiskey-4."

"Well, I haven't been here long enough to know everything there is to know about Reach or NA, but back there, I noticed something a little weird. Does anybody know if there's something important that happened around this part of the city?"

The Staff wasn't sure of what he could be talking about until the very moment that his memories slapped him in the face.

Memories.

He remembered a mission.

They were flying.

A bright flash followed by the mother of all turbulence.

He knew his squad so well that he didn't need to see their faces to tell when each of them connected the dots. One by one, they remembered exactly where they were. One by one, they focused in on Lang. Only Renni and Mito were exempt.

"It was important, sure, but I wouldn't say it was for the better." The Staff answered. "About eight years ago, the old 1st Platoon was running security for an arms agreement being signed here between the UNSC and a few weapons developers. It started out alright at first-"

"Until the Innies went and blew up a bank." Zack hissed.

Over comms, Yuri muffled a growl. "Almost knocked us right out of the sky too. Good times, am I right?"

"Wait, are you guys talking about the Molnar Bombing?" Reznik asked, straightening up at a confirming nod from the Staff. "Man, I remember hearing about that back in middle school. So, you guys... were there? You saw that?"

"Saw it, felt it, smelt it, you name it." Zack added. "The only thing we didn't do was die in it."

"We were the first ones at ground zero after everything settled." Duncan said reminiscently, as if he'd been reminded of another memory he didn't want. "It took almost 700 people out with it."

The Staff felt a slight shift in the atmosphere as the more junior members of Whiskey looked to their older comrades like children listening to a new story.

"A little while after they cleared the debris, they built Memorial Square on the site where the bank used to be. It's not far from here. There was a little monument in the middle ...for the dead."

Duncan set his sights on Lang. "Is that what you saw?"

Lang didn't answer, lost in his own thoughts.

"Whiskey-4?"

"Oh...well, I don't know what I saw. It sort of matches the description. I mean, there's paths here and there, a little thing that looks like a monument in the middle..."

Duncan kept staring, waiting, pressing for a straight answer. "And?"

Lang rubbed the back of his helmet consolingly as if he already hated what he was about to say. "And the Covenant are sitting right on top of it."

:********:

Indignation.

Duncan had it in spades.

What twisted it into something worse, however, was a gut-wrenching irony. It was the kind that could only come from living as long as he had in a world like this one. Not only had the Covenant landed on top of the site of the first tragedy he had ever witnessed, they were forcing them to reawaken old ghosts, to repeat what had happened eight years ago. Where one building had been destroyed and a memorial left in its place, now they were going to bury even that under the weight of four more.

Hatred didn't seem to describe it anymore. He detested the Covenant so much now that it almost went full circle into amazement. Just when he thought they couldn't be any more awful than they already were, they had gone out of their way to prove him wrong.

The platoon left the coffee shop a short while after deciding their game plan. The stack formation made a quick return as they slipped back into the streets.

Dawn was drawing closer though it certainly didn't look like it. The rain clouds, ever constant, continued to blanket the city, not that what little starlight there was above them would have made a difference.

It wasn't a long jog. The approach to their new objective was surprisingly smooth. Their advance, though quiet, went so unopposed that Duncan was uneasy about it.

The platoon was moving down a pair of thoroughfares divided by a median of dwarfish evergreens. Through a set of buildings on their right, he caught glimpses of the M0 highway as it crawled closer to them, eventually cutting across their street some way up ahead. Even further than that, there were lights.

There were no streetlights on. The path forward was utterly dark save for what lay at the end of it.

As they came closer, they moved more cautiously, letting the details of their target come into full view. Motes of light resolved into a ring, a halo of floodlights that stood around the circumference of the area like an ode to Stonehenge. Encompassed within the luminous perimeter was a building that was as wide as it was tall. Though not the largest in the vicinity, it was among the few that stood out from the ordinary pattern. Five stories worth of decorative pillars, ornate windows and structural overlooks were complimented by a glass skylight that domed the entirety of the roof. With the way the floodlights surrounded it, it was like a birthday cake with all the candles left burning around it rather than on top of it.

Reaching within the last 50-meter stretch, Kat held up a hand, halting the platoon. With another silent command, the ODSTs fanned out behind her, diffusing into the shadows of parked vehicles and bus stops. They had more room to maneuver thanks to the M0 which merged with then passed over the thoroughfare at an acute angle.

Duncan went left towards a bus that had long since rolled over onto the sidewalk. Its midsection had been gouged open into a hole of molten metal that left its innards of chairs and baggage strewn across the street. The smoldering wound had been extinguished by the weather so that the air was filled with the scent of smelted iron. He threw himself behind the back and leaned out, zooming in on the building. He settled on the dark-lettered signage carved above the steps to the ground floor lobby: 'New Alexandria Historical Society'.

As the rainfall flickered through the floodlights, it fell onto the shrub dotted soil of a public garden that girdled the building in green and orange ferns. A garnish of artificial ponds and streams were spread throughout, stopping at the paved walkway that led up to the front steps from the main road. That was all he could see that should've been there.

What shouldn't have been there was the dozen strong pack of Brutes that roved the area within. A few stood guard on the edge of the illumination, arms crossed impatiently over armored chests or scanning their surroundings with spike rifles. Scattered about them were several Grunts who manned a matching number of Shade turrets. The guns shifted atop their gravitational mounts, watchful of the immediate area.

"Mind giving me a lift?"

Duncan glanced over at Mackley as he slinked beside him. The ODST tapped on the thermal goggles on his visor. With a nod, Duncan squatted down and braced himself against the back of the bus, folding his hands together into a platform. Mackley got a hand on his shoulder and planted a boot on his palms. With a grunting lift, Duncan raised him high enough to push off. He jumped, catching a foothold on the windowsill before scuttling up the rest of the way. The sharp tilt of the bus left him crawling along the windows that lined its upraised side. Duncan watched his legs disappear over the edge and got back to surveying the location.

Everything on the building seemed relatively intact save for the front doors. There were no doors at all. Whatever had been there before had been ripped completely off its hinges. He could see past the steps and pillars of the front portico to the marble-floored vestibule on the other side. The lights in the building were still on as well. The Brutes must have decided to rely on it for the time being.

"What're we looking at, Whiskey-3?" Kat asked.

After a while, Mackley finished getting his bearings. "Looks like 13 Brutes manning the perimeter with 4 Grunts on Shades."

"Interior?"

He took a second longer to respond. "Jesus, all the civilians are in there, at least as far as I can tell. Not picking up on any other thermals in the area."

"How many?"

"Civilians? About 70-, no, make that 85, dispersed in groups of around...15 to 17 each. I see two groups close to the entrance, two more close to the back and one somewhere near the center. They've got big boys standing over them, about five more Brutes. Total hostiles by my count, 22."

Duncan didn't like their odds. Even with a Spartan, they were still facing an almost equal number of Brutes. They could barely hope to take out three of them before the reinforcements inside came running to assist. Even if the civilians took that chance to escape, there was no telling how risky that would be. Adding the force multiplier of the Shades, they were looking at a serious fight on their hands. Then, of course, he remembered that Kat wouldn't even be there whenever it was that they would assault the building.

"How do you want to play this, Ep-1?" Kat asked purposefully.

"We can't let those Shades get involved. That's too much firepower. Since they're fixed in place, our best option is to draw those Brutes out into the open, preferably away from the range of those turrets. We ambush them, hit those Shades then regroup those civilians back at that tram stop nearby."

"Alright, sounds good, but how're you drawing them out?"

"Good question. Still working on an answer."

"I think I've got one." Mackley said. "I'm seeing movement on my end. Looks like they're getting a group on their feet."

"All eyes on that entrance." Kat ordered.

Duncan checked down the scope of his SMG.

Ahead of them, the building's front vestibule became full of activity. First one, then several people came stumbling out from the interior. Even more came on their heels, 15 in all that rushed out of the entrance at a staggering run. Desperation was carved into every facet of their torn clothes and dirtied faces as they surged forward. The reason for their haste came lumbering behind them. Like a shepherd ushering their flock out of a pen, a fully armed chieftain emerged at their backs. It marched through the vestibule using its hammer like a cane, its approaching bulk making even the slowest of the escapees pick up the pace.

Duncan watched them run out into the light of the outer garden. Some hesitated at the sight of the other Brutes or paused at the Shades. Others never slowed down, gunning it past the towering guards at full speed.

To Duncan's shock, none of the Brutes attempted to grab at them. They didn't even acknowledge them beyond mild sniffs or tacit growls that exposed sharp canines. They let them run past without issue.

In seconds, the last of the civilians were free of the light and dispersing in every direction, dashing down the nearest streets they could find.

One of them Duncan kept an eye on, a little girl. She was the only one running towards the platoon. Even in the dark, he could make out the knotted clumps of black bangs swishing around her head with every step. There was dried blood on her face. It was the look of pure terror that struck him the hardest, like a kid who'd finally found the monster under her bed.

"We've got one coming our way." Mackley said. "Just a kid."

Before anyone could answer, the chieftain raised its empty hand into the air. The motion pulled in the attention of its packmates. Duncan saw the Brutes tense up, as if they were waiting for something.

Ten seconds passed, ten agonizing seconds.

Then with a barbaric flourish, the chieftain threw its hand down and barked an order no one understood, no one but its packmates. Like a war that had been lost to their inner demons, animalistic grins tore across their lips. Several of them let out a unified howl that ripped away the silence like an echoing cannonade. The Brutes standing guard broke ranks all at once, running, stomping, careening out of the light and down the nearby streets. They barreled past wrecks, shouldering whole cars aside as they chased after the escapees with a hellbound fury.

Duncan couldn't help seeing the hunger in their eyes as they went.

Two of them were racing their way.

The little girl was far ahead. She had a good gap on them, but it wouldn't be enough in the long run. Still, she was bolting, running harder at the sound of the howls, her face creased up like an old woman's as tears ran freely down her cheeks.

"Ep-8, grab that kid, keep her quiet." Kat ordered. "Everyone else, get to cover. We'll let them pass. If they start catching on, open fire."

Duncan nodded, able to tell by her trajectory that she would pass right by him. He slapped his SMG onto his back harness and took a knee. He was ready to pounce, waiting silently as he watched the rest of the platoon slip away into the shadows. Given how exposed they had been to the rain, their individual scents would be indistinguishable from everything else. He wondered how well that would hold up at close range.

The sound of splashing footsteps came up fast. He was faster. The second he saw her shadow he was already moving. A split-second after running into view, he had one hand around her and another around her mouth. He could feel her screaming her head off into his gloves as he pulled back around to the other side of the bus. He quickly plopped down into a small nook between the leaning roof and the sidewalk. He sat her on his lap, still cupping her mouth with one hand while he reached into a small stream of sewage from an overflowing drain. She pulled at his arm, somehow managing to scream even harder as he smeared her face in a muddy mixture of rainwater and whatever else the streets had cooked up. He was quick to pat her down with the stuff, throwing handfuls of water over her for good measure. When he was done, he depolarized his visor, turning her horrified face to his as he held up a finger where his mouth would be.

One of her eyes went wide. She stopped screaming but still clung to his arm.

He did his best to hide the slight tremble in his finger as he listened to the arriving footfalls. Where the girl's had been like a soft pattering, the Brutes' were more akin to a pair of bears charging through a pond. He couldn't speak their language. All the same, he had heard it more than enough times to know that they were goading each other on. The collection of base tones, grunts and growls made him feel what the little girl and everyone else they released must have felt, like a deer realizing it's on the business end of a crosshair.

The girl's breathing picked up. She was panicking. He pressed his finger against his helmet again, getting a spastic nod from her in return.

The Brutes pounded on until they were near the bus. There, much to Duncan's chagrin, they slowed down.

There was sniffing.

He made out individual footsteps drawing closer, somewhat lighter than before and yet even more menacing. They stopped in a loud splash as a giant foot landed in the large puddle at the back of the bus. It was right around the corner.

Duncan snuck a hand down to his SMG. With a careful pull, he tugged it free of his harness and slowly, cautiously aimed at the back.

More sniffing.

It was faster, raspy as deep inhalations sucked rain-clogged air into keen nostrils, scouring every smell the street had to offer.

It must not have liked what it found. He heard a chuff and a disappointed grunt. More footsteps followed, leading away. The Brute called to its packmate. Together, they took off at another run. They dashed off to the east, back the way the platoon had come.

It was a long seven seconds before Duncan felt comfortable enough to breathe again. It was an even longer 30 before he felt ready to move. He steadily pulled his hand away from the girl's mouth, again gesturing for her to stay quiet. She nodded more calmly this time and slowed her breathing.

"Whiskey-3?" Kat called, breaking the radio silence.

Another few heartbeats passed before Mackley gave her an answer. "Alright, they just turned the corner. We're clear."

Duncan heard the others beginning to reemerge from the shadows. He took the opportunity to undo his work. He unclipped a pouch and pulled out a spent M7 magazine, running it under a small waterfall that spilled down the leaning roof behind him. Once it was full, he poured some on the girl's head and started rubbing off the grime he'd smeared on her, pouring then cleaning, pouring again and cleaning again. It didn't take long for him to clear her face. As much as he tried, however, the slight drooping in her expression, the shellshock etched into her demeanor remained. So too did a dark smudge that was left around her right eye. He poured more water to wipe away at it, only stopping once he realized that it wasn't a smudge at all.

There was clambering up above. He looked up to see Mackley peering down at him from the other side of the roof.

"Hey, you guys good?"

Duncan let out a sigh of anything but relief. "Define 'good'."

"I think we'll let Ep-10 handle that." Kat said as she, Renni and the Staff came around the corner.

The Spartan and his squad leader stopped beside him while their medic crouched down to check out the girl.

"Hey there kiddo, how're you?" Renni asked with all the manners of a pediatrician, clearing her visor so she could offer up a smile. Somehow it seemed to relieve Duncan more than the girl. The latter was too caught up in the sight of the armored giant standing over her to notice anything else.

"Think you covered her in enough stuff, Ep-8?" Renni complained as she wiped away the last flecks of mud from her cheeks.

"It was either that or the alternative." Duncan replied.

"Noted." She started testing for points of pain, probing her arms, legs and chest as she asked if she felt anything. The girl said nothing. She didn't flinch or wheeze either. It was a good sign. Right then, Duncan got a good look at her. She couldn't be much older than eight or nine.

Moving on to the obvious, Renni caught the girl's chin between thumb and forefinger and turned her head this way and that, often struggling whenever she risked turning her eyes away from the Spartan. "About four minor lacerations about the face and..."

She paused at the black circle around her right eye. "I honestly don't want to think about how she got that."

"Anything else?" Kat asked.

"Negative. Aside from some blunt force trauma and those cuts, she has a decent bill of health."

Kat turned to the girl herself. "What's your name, kid?"

She winced as if she'd been called out by a schoolteacher. Her cracked lips creaked open and let out a stammering whisper just barely audible above the rain.

"Li-, Liz-...Lizzy."

Duncan detected a hint of a Hungarian dialect in her accent. She was a local. He sorely wished she weren't. He wished she didn't have to be here at all.

Kat kneeled down to get closer to eye level, although her height ensured that the girl still had to look up at her. "Alright Lizzy, would you-"

Without prompting, Lizzy shot a finger down the road, pointing back at the building. "My-, my mom's-...she's in-...they're all in-…"

She was on the verge of tears. She stifled them herself, biting her lip as she wiped a torn sleeve across her face.

"Help us...please."

"We're going to." Kat said. "But I need you to answer one or two questions for me, okay?"

"...Okay."

"Those monsters, the big furry ones," She paused at seeing the way Lizzy stiffened at the mention. "Do they always let out a lot of you at the same time?"

She gripped onto Duncan's shoulder pauldrons, nodding feverishly. "They keep us inside...then they let us out. No one they let out-" She clutched his shoulders tighter. "No one ever comes back. They took my apa out here...but I don't see him."

She stopped to keep back what must have been a hard sob as her lips quivered. She was shaking. Remembering that she was still in the rain, Duncan pulled off his helmet and held it over her head, sparing her some shade as he felt the chilling water on his bare skin for the first time.

"We've been here for days." Lizzy croaked. "Mom said people were coming for us...but nobody did. Then it was my turn. They put me with those other people who were running. My mom's still in there. Please-"

"Do you know how long it is before they let one group out after another?" Kat asked gently, showing a subtle remorse at having to cut her off.

"Y-, yes. It's-, ugh, a few hours maybe? I-, I don't know. I don't know what time it is anymore."

"If you had to guess?"

Lizzy strained her mind in visible frustration. "Three hours, I think. That's how long my mom told me I could sleep before she has to wake me up. They move us around a lot."

At that, she pointed again at the building. "You-, you're going to help them, right? Please? Please don't leave them. They're-...they're hurting us."

By the way her voice cracked, Duncan knew she meant every word. It hurt to listen. It hurt even more when he understood what her rescue meant, what the meaning was of the look that Kat gave as she peered over her shoulder at the Staff.

The hostages still inside as well as those being hunted wouldn't be the only ones they would have to leave behind.

:********:

The apartment building was dead, dark and quiet, a recurring theme in this part of Alexandria that made it no less haunting. Like others in the neighborhood, it had the appearance of an upside-down water bottle – narrow at the first few floors before widening out further up. Unlike the others, it was relatively untouched. The windows on all 15 levels were remarkably intact. The lights were off as well. Another factor in their favor, but more so Lizzy's.

Having backtracked from the city's historical society, they shifted away towards the south, trying to put as much distance between their charge and the Brutes' hunting grounds as possible.

At Kat's discretion, the platoon came to a stop in front of the apartment building. They halted within the veil of a valet service post that stood just outside, one with an overhanging tent that granted them a reprieve from the rain.

As always, Kat was the first of the stack to reach the entrance. The sliding glass doors to the ground floor lobby were also still intact, another good sign.

The Spartan edged closer to peer through the glass. "Foyer's clear. Cover me."

The Staff stepped up to watch her back as she put her rifle aside, allowing her to force her armored fingers through the seams. With mechanical ease, she pulled the doors apart. Her weapon came out again and she slipped inside. Nova, Hector and Duncan shadowed her in, leaving the others to stand watch outside.

Duncan made sure to hold Lizzy's hand as he guided her through the dark. A ring of chandeliers jingled quietly above them as they crossed the foyer. Duncan took note of the dead strobe lights on the ceiling that mere days ago may have facilitated what appeared to be a successful evacuation. They pushed through an arrangement of cushioned chairs and onyx flooring towards the cluster of receptionist desks on the other end. Kat planted a Nav point on one of the doors in the wall behind them. She stayed back to cover the wider space while the rest of them carried on to the desks. Passing behind them, Hector reached the door first, finding it already cracked open. He snaked a hand into the handle. With a nod from Nova, he pulled it the rest of the way, allowing her to peer inside with her M7.

"Maintenance closet clear. Looks cluttered enough too."

"Good, get her inside." Kat ordered.

Duncan walked Lizzy to the threshold. A look of pure dread crossed her face when she peeked inside. She eyed the handful of shelves of cleaning supplies and janitorial equipment like they were the stuff of nightmares.

Nova kneeled beside her. "Alright, Lizzy, listen. We're going to have to leave you here, okay?"

"What?" Lizzy jerked back, yanking her hand out of Duncan's. "No. No, I don't-"

Nova raised a finger up to where her lips would be. "I know. We know, but right now there's no other way. We need to hide you somewhere so we can pick you up later."

"No." She whined. "I want to go with you. Don't leave me here alone. Those-, the monsters, they'll come back."

"They won't know where you are." Nova replied calmingly. "You're safe if you stay here. You won't be if you go with us, you see?"

"Hova mész akkor?" Lizzy asked, her fear oozing into her native tongue.

Nova showed her face through her visor. She shared a smile that was as pained as it was hopeful.

"Harcolni fogunk a szörnyekkel, amelyek bántják a családját." She ran a comforting hand over her damp hair. "Akkor visszajövünk érted, oké?"

Duncan didn't have a clue what she'd said. However, it seemed to have the desired effect as Lizzy visibly relaxed.

"Promise?"

Nova took her hand and held it up to her own, wrapping her pinky finger around Lizzy's. "Pinky promise."

A glimmer of hope caught alight in her expression.

Duncan glanced up at his mission timer: '1 hr. 39 min.'

As much as he hated it, they had to wrap things up.

"Ep-2, we need to be leaving soon." Kat said.

"Right." Nova took out her personal canteen as well as a few pre-packaged crackers from her rations. Holding them together, she planted them in Lizzy's hand and ushered her into the closet. Duncan watched them go behind the very back of the shelves where Nova proceeded to leave her.

Coming back out, she gave her one last thumbs up. "We'll knock three times. If you hear anything outside other than that, don't open the door, understand? Keep it locked unless you're sure it's us."

She nodded sheepishly as she settled into the underbrush of cleaning equipment and wheel-bound tool chests.

We'll be back soon, okay?"

"Good luck." She said as they began closing the door, slowly leaving her in the pitch blackness of the room.

It was the way the last of the light closed in on a scared, solitary eye that struck Duncan the hardest. Nova pushed it shut. He listened to the auto-lock system engaging with several succinct clicks. Then an unspeakable feeling took over his thoughts. He found himself possessed by the unshakable sense that the little girl on the other side would haunt him forever if they broke that promise. The reason why didn't make itself obvious, but it felt familiar, more familiar than it had been in the last few years.

"She's secured, Noble-2." Nova declared.

"Copy. On me."

Kat led them back to the entrance. Duncan looked over his shoulder all the while, stealing glimpses of the maintenance closet behind the desks. He kept doing so up until they were back outside and moving down the street with the rest of the platoon. Even then, he kept stealing glances of the apartment building as they pushed on towards their mission, making every effort to remember exactly where it was.

:********:

Duncan wasn't very religious, but if there was ever such a place as the valley of the shadow of death, it was here, right in front of him.

The street ahead of him descended like a ramp. It sloped downward for 150-meters before leveling out. Its westward path was cut abruptly short by the north-south passage of the M3 Highway. Just beyond it stood the D-shaped building of the Triad Community Center. High above the highest floor of the center, the bulbous snout of the corvette stared back at him.

He had to remind himself that it didn't have eyes, that the giant ship wasn't actually watching him. That didn't mean there weren't other things that could be looking in his direction.

He sighted the purple-metal walls that extended away from the pale-white architecture of the community center. They were new additions to the neighborhood made courtesy of the Covenant that now manned them. The fortified barriers Lang had spotted from a distance were at least 10-meters tall and spanned well out of sight. Squads of Grunts and Jackals patrolled down the length of it that he could see. Others did the same along the highway below, passing under the shadows of the barriers with squabbling yaps and gargled squawks. Brutes supervised them on either front, leading patrols with contemptuous barks or standing watch themselves, arms crossed impetuously.

None of the entrances to the perimeter wall were in their sector. That at least would mean there wouldn't be any armored reinforcements coming after them if they were caught. Not straight away in any case.

The platoon was crouched down at the eastern end of the street leading up to the landing zone. Once again, they were relying on dead vehicles for cover, watching the forces ahead of them from behind dented hoods and broken windshields.

"Nice view." Zack said.

Nearby, Mito turned to him. "What 'view' are you looking at?"

Zack cocked his head almost wistfully. "World Cuisine HQ. I can see it from here. Think they store any of their products in there?"

Without seeing her turn to him, Duncan sensed Kat giving their radioman the side eye. "You know we're only here to blow that up, right? We're not staying."

"Right-right, yeah...but we could-"

"No."

"Aw, come on, Noble-2. We could just check and see what they've got stashed in there, maybe some secret recipes and stuff, you know?"

She shook her head incredulously. "No, I don't. Besides, once this is done, you need to get back to those hostages. Our schedule is too tight for anything else."

"...Roger that."

"Cheer up, Ep-7." Rico said. "If we pull this off, I'll buy you one of those burgers you like so much."

Zack perked up. "Moa?"

"It's on me."

"God bless you, Ricky."

"Alright, let's split up." Kat said. "Remember, Fireteam 2, you have Naphtali Corp. Fireteam 3, Imbrium Complex. Fireteam 4, Triad Community Center. I'll head over to World Cuisine HQ with Fireteam 1, hopefully without anyone breaking ranks."

Presented with a few cautioning glances from the others, Zack shrugged it off. "I know, I know, stay on task. Got it."

"Good. We only have another hour and a half left before our timer hits zero. You're going to want to be in place for those hostages at least half an hour before that. That means you're looking at 20 minutes going in, 20 to get those charges in place and another 20 for exfiltration."

"Easier said than done when it comes to sewers." Hector griped.

"Like I said," Zack huffed. "Actium all over again."

"We'll get it done." The Staff said, aiming a look at the two Helljumpers. "Just like we did back then."

Hector nodded hesitantly. "Roger that."

Out the corner of his eye, Duncan swore he saw Rico make the sign of the cross over himself.

"Good thing nobody here ever missed leg day." Renni said, letting out a deep breath as she did. "Ready when you guys are."

"Then it's time." Kat pointed two fingers to their left, to a street heading south. "There should be a sewer entrance 50-meters down that way. If the schematics are accurate, it'll take us where we need to go. Ep-1, I suggest you tag along. You can break off once we reach that bypass to Naphtali. Whiskey-1, there's another sewer entrance to our right at about the same distance. Ep-2, you'll be going in the closest to that wall. Don't get caught."

"Will do." Nova replied.

"Ep-1?"

"Copy." The Staff crouched over to the Spartan's position to get a good look at their road before turning around to everyone else. "Fireteams 3 and 4, you know what to do."

It wasn't a 'good luck', 'be safe' or 'take care of yourselves'. Even so, the underlying sentiment was lost on no one.

"Let's move." Kat got them rolling, rising up and jogging out from behind the shattered remains of a convertible.

The rest of Fireteam 1, Zack, Mackley and Lang were right on her heels. The Staff went out with them, taking the smaller element of Fireteam 2, Hector and Yuri with him.

As they disappeared around the corner, Dalton was already pushing out towards the road on the right. "Fireteam 3, on me. Let's get moving."

Daz and Reznik shot after him with Renni in tow. After a few steps they likewise vanished around a corner.

Then it was just Fireteam 4.

Duncan focused on Nova, waiting for her signal.

She slowly raised her head above the broken headlights of a minivan. Peering out again at the Covenant's fortifications gave her a moment of pause.

"Ep-2?" Mito called.

"We've got snipers on top of some of those buildings." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Watch your head out there or you just might lose it."

"Copy that, Dama Roja." Rico replied. "Ready when you are."

Nova said nothing more. Several heartbeats passed, the rainfall dinging off their armor as it drummed around them.

Then she was moving, rushing out into the road leading west. Duncan, Rico and Mito followed in short order.

The team stuck close to the buildings on the left, maneuvering under a number of verandas and overhangs that shaded them from both rain and sight.

Up ahead, the corvette loomed like a giant, a floating behemoth waiting for the right time to pounce. But it wouldn't pounce. It didn't know they were there yet. The main reason that assured Duncan of that fact was that they would've been long dead if it did. Every quiet breath and splashing step forward was proof that they still had a chance.

With the walls of the landing zone growing closer, he made out more details in the defenses. The Shades stationed along the sector were spaced out every 20 meters. If they screwed up too soon, they could expect overwhelming and overlapping fields of fire from as many as four turrets.

At the edge of his periphery, he noticed motes of pink light hovering over the rooftops of those buildings closest to the wall. By his count, there were at least three pairs of Jackal snipers guarding the immediate area.

The team didn't give them any opportunity to spot them. They made regular stops, moving with a practiced precision that kept them from being exposed for more than three seconds. Duncan counted each of those seconds with his racing heart while they moved from spot to spot. The world itself soon worked in their favor as the rain came down harder, suddenly switching from a mild drumbeat to a deafening barrage. It was almost a perfect arrangement, that is until he heard a rumble of thunder overhead. He held his breath, worrying what a strike of lightning might reveal to the watchful eyes above.

In under two minutes, they'd covered the 50 meters to their first destination. Nova took a left turn, slipping into a narrow alleyway. Rico and Mito came right behind. Duncan brought up the rear. He stopped once within the cover of the passageway, pressing his back against the wall while he kept watch on the street.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Rico holding down the fort on the other end of the alley. Nova and Mito had stopped halfway down. Both pulled at the edges of a manhole cover. With a heave, they yanked it out of its housing and set it down nearby.

Nova aimed into the darkness below. "It's clear. Let's roll."

She got down and threw her legs inside, finding purchase on an unseen ladder. As she lowered herself inside, Mito gestured for them to get moving.

Duncan and Rico pulled back at a careful trot, always mindful to take glimpses of the streets behind them. Mito drew his SMG to take up the watch for them. Rico went down next. Once he was in, Duncan secured his M7 and slipped his legs into the abyss. His boots found the first few rungs of the ladder and he clambered his way inside.

He was still coming down when Mito climbed in after him. With a bit of straining effort, the latter pulled the manhole cover back into place, sealing away what little light there was.

The rest of the journey would rely on their VISRs. Duncan's was already on. He kept descending from one rung to the next. Below him, he heard the others going further in.

"Careful." Nova said. "There's a drop."

He heard her let go of the ladder. Instead of a splash like he was expecting, there was a hollow echo of boots hitting dry concrete. Rico let go next and he heard the same thing. It was a relief, really. Possibly jumping into a river of raw sewage to him was somehow the least appealing part of the operation.

At the end of several seconds, he'd run out of ladder. He braced himself and let go, landing with an echoing impact on solid ground.

He cleared the way for Mito to drop down beside him. His VISR highlighted the full length of the tunnel. It was wide, though the bulk of the space was taken up by a river of greenish brown liquid that washed down a central canal at a steady flow. Two concrete walkways were built along either side of the wasteway, extending along the span of the sewer in either direction.

The team moved along the left side of the tunnel after Nova, heading in a direction that their HUDs indicated as south. They followed their TACMAPs towards a junction in the sewers, one that would turn them westward into a zigzagging labyrinth of subterranean passageways.

On the way, the scents that wafted through Duncan's helmet struck him with the force of an uppercut, a vile cocktail of rotting materials and human waste that defiled his sense of smell. The sharp reeks and dull odors stabbed and hammered at his nostrils, made that much worse when he remembered that his air filters were still running. He wasn't even getting the full brunt of it.

It was one of those few times that he was reminded there were worse jobs out there than his own, or at least worse places to die. To think there were men and women who had to work in these conditions every day for a living was hard to swallow in and of itself.

After finishing a 30-meter stretch, they reached the expected junction. The upcoming tunnel was even bigger and passed at a perpendicular angle to the route they were using.

Nova slowed down as she peered around the corner, pausing upon turning to the right. "Heads up, we've got a body."

"What's new." Mito sighed as he held down the rear.

"Covenant?" Rico asked.

She shook her head. "Civilian. We'll check it out, but we can't stop. Let's take this bridge."

She moved out into the junction with the others trailing behind. They crossed over a small catwalk that bridged the gap to the other side of the new path. Righting onto the next walkway, they were again moving along the left. The river of sewage continued to course alongside them with all its pungent aromas.

Up ahead, on the right-side walkway was a limp figure. The software in Duncan's helmet distinguished it from the background of crisscrossing pipes. It was a lone individual lying face down on the ground. The man's hoodie and jeans were closer to rags. A pool of old blood was gathered around him, having partly dried into the concrete. Getting closer, Duncan could tell how the man had met his end by the handful of black scorch marks that had singed his back. Just by the way he was lying, he looked to have been running when he finally collapsed from exhaustion.

"Looks like a homeless guy." Rico said. "Guess he managed to make his way down here after something took a crack at him."

"For all the good it did." Duncan murmured.

Again, in a matter of seconds, he was reminded that there were worse places and worst ways to die. Here, alone in the dark, with nothing better than your own blood and the refuse of the city to keep you company? That had to be one of them.

They passed by the body and forged on into the tunnel, remaining on guard for signs of a hostile presence. The path gradually evolved into a series of off-branches that led deeper into the municipal sewer system. They travelled straight on for a while before passing over another small bridge, heading into a tunnel that wound northwards. Another 50-meter stroll ended with a left turn down a new junction and then a rightward shift shortly thereafter.

Even with his HUD, Duncan was beginning to lose his sense of direction by the time they arrived at the last tunnel. It was slightly smaller than the rest. The concrete flooring disappeared altogether, replaced by a single contiguous catwalk. The slurry-like life blood of the sewers continued to slosh and surge below the grating as they strode on. The walls of the tunnel grew closer and closer until they were left with little room to maneuver.

Before long, the end of the tunnel came within sight. Duncan's helmet picked out the rungs of a ladder in pale yellow highlights. It climbed up the back wall, disappearing into a cylindrical accessway in the ceiling.

"That's our stop." Nova said. "We should come out into an alley next to the community center. I'll-"

"I'll go up first." Duncan insisted. "I'll check it out."

The group ground to a halt at the base of the ladder.

Nova spared him a look. "You sure?"

"No, but someone's got to stick their neck out up there. I'd rather it be me."

"...Remember what I said about keeping your head down?"

"I'd hope so."

Nova made no move to reply as she slowly stepped out of the way, allowing Duncan to shimmy past her. He saddled up to the ladder and grabbed on. He took extra care to lighten his steps, putting one rung below him after the next with as little noise as possible. He reached the shadow of the accessway and crept inside. The cylindrical constriction hit him with a twinge of claustrophobia as he clambered up the last of the ladder.

He stopped short of hitting his head against the underside of the manhole cover. Keeping his left hand anchored on the upper rung, he took his right and flattened his palm against the cold metal. It was heavier than it looked. With a grunt, he pushed at it. Rainwater immediately drained inside like small waterfalls around him. The comparatively brighter world above snuck streams of light into the shaft. He kept pushing until he was able to get his visor above the lip.

He quickly recognized the wall of a building less than two meters in front of him. He made out a lineup of trash bags leading away from a door. Close by, an overwhelmed dumpster leaked liquified waste from cracks in its frame. Somewhere in between the dumpster and the bags there was a thin stream of rain pouring down from what he assumed to be a gutter, hemmed in by a pair of tree trunks. But they weren't tree trunks. Where his mind had led him astray, his VISR showed him exactly what he was looking at.

Red highlights illuminated a pair of two toed feet connected to a matching set of muscular legs. It took him a moment longer to realize that the thin stream of rain running in between them wasn't actually rain at all.

A rush of fear and disgust shot through him at the same time as he became fully aware of the Brute standing out in front of him. The only reason he didn't panic was because it wasn't facing him. It had its back turned while it went about its business on the alleyway wall.

Not wanting to risk its notice or, even worse, catching a glimpse of what it was packing, he slowly, carefully lowered the cover back into place, setting it down in absolute quiet.

"See something?" Nova called up.

"Brute."

"Great. Did it spot you?"

"No. We should wait for it to pass."

"How do you know it's going to leave? It might be standing watch out there."

Duncan grimaced behind his visor, barely hiding the disturbed tenor in his tone. "No, it'll leave. It's just...marking its territory right now."

Nova said nothing.

He looked down and saw her visor peering back up at him with all the expression of the face on the other side.

"Número uno o número dos?" Rico asked, barely restraining a laugh.

Duncan's grimace deepened. "Shut up."

As Rico got a cackle at his expense, he heard a shuffling noise overhead. Heavy footfalls followed, growing fainter and fainter. After they were gone, he waited a few more seconds to be sure before he dared to raise the cover again.

There was no sign of the Brute. Out the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of it walking out of the alley at a groggy pace. He waited a few seconds longer then cautiously slid the cover aside, wincing at every loud scrape of metal on concrete as he pushed it out of the way. He pulled himself out to the point that he could slip his gun arm into the open. He scanned down either end of the alley with his M7. Once his VISR came up empty, he dug his elbows into the lip of the manhole and hoisted himself the rest of the way.

He crouched against the shadows of a neighboring building and kept watch. "We're clear. Start coming up."

In a moment he heard footsteps coming up the ladder. Nova emerged first, followed by Rico and Mito. The three of them took up corresponding positions on either side of the alley.

Just a short walk away to the west, the giant 10-meter wall of the landing zone stretched up high into the air, engulfing them in its shadow. Duncan had checked the topmost parapets ahead of time, making sure that there were no passing patrols.

"I've got the entry point in sight." Nova said, pointing at the glass door near where the Brute had been.

"We got you covered." Mito replied.

"Ep-8, you're with me."

Duncan nodded and fell in behind her. They edged towards the side entrance, only stopping when Nova landed a boot in a pool of strange liquid.

"Is that-"

"Don't think about it." Duncan insisted.

She let out a low groan as they moved on. They stacked up on the door, one that was thankfully made of glass.

Duncan laid eyes on the words that had been written across its surface in a wide arc: 'Community Kitchen'.

He tried the handle, but it wouldn't budge. "Locked."

"I'm not about to kick this thing down if I can help it." Nova said. She briefly peeked skyward then brought up her M7, getting a grip on it with both hands while she angled the stock at the door.

"Think that's a good idea?"

"Hold on a sec." She kept holding it at the ready, waiting. Several heartbeats passed before lightning flashed in the distance. Duncan quickly caught on.

"How far?" She asked.

"About two klicks."

He was already counting off the seconds in his head. At six, the thunder finally rolled in with a powerful tremor, perfectly submerging the sound of shattering glass. The strike was quick enough that only the light patter of falling shards was left by the time it was over.

Nova reached into the hole she'd made and grabbed the other side of the handle. There was a click.

"Got it."

She gestured to Duncan to get ready. At a nod from her, she pulled open the door and he stepped inside.

The words on the door itself hadn't been a case of false advertising. In the dark, he found himself at the end of a large kitchen. Two concentric squares of stainless-steel counters were surrounded both from within and without by stoves, ovens, grills and overhead cabinets. It almost reminded him of the kitchen back at the Csillagos. Many of the counters still had platters of food on them that were yet to be served. Having long since grown cold over the last few days, plates of breakfast sandwiches, bagels, bacon and eggs were left out in the open. Regardless, after mostly having to rely on his MREs ever since they'd dropped into the city, he was more than tempted to pocket a donut or two.

To his surprise and quiet gratitude, there were no bodies. He hoped whoever was here had been among those able to evacuate. But then he remembered the dead homeless man they'd seen in the sewers. If it was a community kitchen, more than likely someone in his shoes would've been aware of it. Duncan couldn't shake the feeling that he had been trying to get back here or had perhaps even escaped from the refuge of the building.

Nova filed in behind him with Rico and Mito. They filtered through the lanes of countertops and cabinets, searching for anything that could be hiding among them.

Again, he was grateful to find that there was nothing on that front either.

They crossed to the other side and stacked up at yet another door, one that was cracked open as if just for them. There were lights on now and he could see the amber-colored walls of a corridor beyond.

"If the map's right about this, the stairs to the basement level should be nearby." Nova said. "We'll go straight for a bit then take a right. We should come to some sort of assembly area. It'll be in there. Just hold on a sec, let me double-check something."

"When you say an assembly area, you mean a sanctuary?" Rico questioned.

"I don't know. I don't follow Triad stuff. Creeps me out."

"If you weave together all three of your cherished inner lives, you will achieve peace through blessed transcendence." Mito said in a highfalutin manner. "And yes, that's an actual quote."

"Whose?" Rico asked.

"The head honcho for this whole scheme, some creepy old hermit-looking guy named Dasc Gevadim. Apparently, he founded this little cult. It's been spreading like wildfire in the inner colonies for decades now."

Rico looked over his shoulder at him. "Why do you know all this?"

Mito shrugged. "I have hobbies in my downtime too, you know. I like looking up people with strange beliefs and cooky ideas about the universe."

"Strange?" Duncan also peered back at him. "I thought you were religious?"

"I am."

"But then-"

Mito gave a slow shake of his head. "Not my religion."

Rico shrugged. "Fair game I guess."

"So, want to hear my thoughts on the Virgin Mary?"

"Okay, let's stop right there."

"Let's." Nova slipped her hand into the door handle. "We're moving."

Duncan pulled in closer behind her. "Roger."

She slowly dragged it, suppressing the creaking moan of the metal. More light streamed into the kitchen. Nova peeked inside. A bit more reassured, she signaled them forward.

The team slipped into the corridor at a quiet stride. Smooth wooden floor tiles emphasized each step and forced them to move even slower. Evenly spaced ceiling lights bathed the entire passageway so that every color seemed mellowed out. The corridor went on at a curve, occupied by small marble tables and decorative couches that adorned the floor like a long waiting room.

They navigated a path that passed down the middle. There were no signs of a fight. Duncan ruled out forced entry as well once the front doors of the establishment came into view. Much closer was the crescent-shaped arrangement of receptionist desks that were likewise intact and unoccupied.

He noticed something else right after that, however. The walls to their right were covered in pictures. They weren't holographic either. They were framed in rows and columns, showing different people, whether it was individual headshots or whole families. Written on them were names and short sayings: 'Donald Herstein, ascended to glory' or 'The Ferencs, forever in tranquility'.

He didn't take any special note of them until he spotted one in particular near the end of a row. It was of a mother and son. They were sitting on a grassy lot, maybe a park somewhere. It was sunny out, and their features were put on full display. The boy was a toddler and sat snuggled in his mother's arms. She meanwhile wore a gray sweater and had him wrapped up in her sleeves on what appeared to be a windy day. Both were smiling up at the camera.

Something was off, two things in fact. Maybe three.

There were fingertips peeking out over the woman's right shoulder, fingers that belonged to no one he could see. It wasn't a ghost. It was more like someone had taken a preexisting picture and done a lousy job of removing somebody else from it. Moreover, there were no names on the frame itself. Instead, all there was on the wood was a single line that lacked the religious connotations of all the others:

'Gone but not forgotten.'

"Ep-8?" Nova called.

Duncan snapped out of it, not having noticed when he'd drifted from the stack. He went back into place, though not before taking a final eyeful of another detail:

The boy.

He had never seen the kid before a day in his life. He was sure of it. But...

He moved on.

The team took a right down a new corridor that went behind the reception area. Another right brought them to a set of large alcoves. Within them were set cherry wood doors that were just as imposing. A strange iconography was carved into the wood, vaguely reminiscent of an orthodox crucifix. The main differences however were the two crosspieces squeezed together at the top rather than being spread out at the bottom. That along with a circle set around the upper half of the cross, if it was a cross.

Nova chose a door that would be the furthest to one side, allowing them a better field of vision once they walked into the wider room. She pulled it by the nob and ushered them inside.

The sanctuary was bigger than Duncan was expecting. Much bigger.

A high ceiling stretched at least six stories overhead, dotted with lights that seemed to glitter like stars. A semicircle of beige walls surrounded three floors of similarly colored seats which descended into one another like flights of stairs. At the focal point of the sanctuary's half-bullseye orientation was a raised stage. On it stood a single glass podium. A trio of massive yet inactive screens were embedded in the walls behind it. All three of them displayed the same symbol they had seen on the doors. However, now the weird 'T' shape was bathed in a blood red shade with a black circle around its upper half, everything set against a white backdrop that rippled like a flag.

The team halted atop one of the upper walkways. Each of them scanned along sets of staircases that ran down between the sections of seating like roads among hedgerows. Sweeping each row with their optics yielded no signs of hostiles. The same went for the more open area before the empty stage. There were no civilians either. The lack of both worked out in their favor.

"Clear." Nova declared.

Mito relaxed a bit and took a long look at the symbols on the screens. "Anybody else think that thing looks like a discount Shinto shrine?"

"That's a bit too specific for anyone else to think of." Rico replied. "It's more like-...actually, yeah, it kinda does."

"Told you."

"This way." Nova started down a staircase that led straight to the stage. The others piled in after her, staying careful to search each row as they went. Still, they found nothing.

"Guess we didn't interrupt anyone's prayer meeting." Mito said.

"I doubt we'll find people praying right about now." Nova replied.

"Why not? If there ever was a time, it's now. Also, someone want to tell me why the Covenant hasn't rolled through here yet? I mean, the lights are on. You'd think maybe they would want to check something like that out for security reasons."

"Maybe they're just as creeped out as we are."

"...Yeah, that's fair."

"Or it's because they already know they have full control over this sector." Duncan advised. "If anyone was here, they wouldn't really matter."

"But wouldn't they want to at least torch it? It's basically a temple to somebody else's faith, a human faith for that matter, so you'd think they'd hate it twice as much."

"Who's to say they don't have plans for it already." Rico explained. "Let's just hope they don't decide to light the place up before we do."

Mito murmured under his breath. "With us still in it."

They reached the open area in front of the stage where they found themselves facing a split in the path. Two doors marked 'Exit' lay on either side of it.

Duncan saddled up next to Nova. "Which one is it?"

"Hold on, let me see."

Outside, somewhere up above came the ghostly warble of impulse drives that passed just as quickly as it came.

Mito elbowed Rico in the arm. "Think I should convert?"

"Why?"

"I've been thinking, maybe I've been too hard on these guys. I mean, in our line of work, having three lives ain't bad."

"Nah, just turn into a cat. You'll get nine that way."

Mito stifled a laugh. "Real funny."

"Okay, I got it." Nova said. "We're going left."

They passed to the left side of the stage and formed up on the door. Duncan shouldered the push release and held the way open for them. A spiral stairwell lay on the other side. They followed it down its winding course for several seconds, coming quickly to the end of it. Another door was waiting for them.

"In there." Nova said.

She leveraged it aside and the team strode into their objective.

The space around them looked like it had once been a parking garage. Perhaps it had been just that before the arrival of the community center. Foundational support pillars stretched up from floor to ceiling like a graveyard of stone. Besides a few lights on the walls, the entire thing was devoid of either people or property.

Still, they needed to be sure. Without a word, they fanned out and swept across the floor. They scanned carefully behind each and every pillar until they had cleared it from end to end.

"Ep-6?" Nova called from across the way.

From a distance, Rico gave her the thumbs up.

"Ep-10?"

Being closer, Mito did the same. "Clear on my end."

"Ep-8?"

Duncan strolled out from behind a pillar, eyeing the graffiti of the Triad symbol that had been sprayed onto its dimensions. "We're good to go."

"Good. We'll make this fast. Ep-6?"

"Right, on me." Rico said, taking over.

They jogged after him to the westward end of the basement.

He pointed to the two nearest lanes of pillars. "Alright, if we're going to maximize the blast potential of those 168s, we'll need to use the layout of this place to our advantage. Here's what we're going to do. Two of us plant charges on the pillars at either end of this outer lane. Two more will plant charges in the lane behind that one on the pillars closer to the center. That way the building won't have any supports in the middle that can hold it up. We don't want this thing falling straight down, we need it to lean. When this explosion comes, it's going to roll right through where we're standing and out through that wall behind us. Covies won't know what hit'em."

"Like kicking someone's leg out from under them." Mito noted.

"Bingo."

"Roger that, get to it." Nova ordered. "I've got the end of this first lane right here."

"I've got the other end." Duncan said as he ran down the lineup in the opposite direction. Rico and Mito made haste as well, heading for the centermost pillars in the lane behind it.

Reaching his target, Duncan took a second to appreciate just how thick the pillar was. It easily matched the girth of a Scorpion tank but all the way around. He didn't work with explosives very often. Nevertheless, he remembered when Captain Eddies had used the same demolition charges to blow a hole in the hull of that corvette. If they could punch through armor as tough as that, simple concrete wouldn't be a problem.

He got to his knees and threw his rucksack out in front of him. He thumbed a switch and watched a compartment of his rucksack pop open. He reached inside and began taking out the different pieces that made up the M168. Reassembling the device wasn't a simple task for someone who wasn't a demolition expert like Rico, and even from afar he watched the man himself already putting it together. However, his training from days gone by came in handy. He worked his way from the inside out, sliding, snapping and screwing core components into place with what had once been an engrained precision. He was extra gentle when it came time to conjoin the time fuse to the primer. A random electrical signal between the two would be the last mistake he would ever make. Everything remained offline as the explosive package itself was encased in its metal housing. He was done in under a minute.

"Ready." He said, only just noticing that the others were already planting theirs.

He quickly lifted the hexagonal device and planted it against the column. It stuck into place as its adhesive strips got a firm grip on the surface. He typed the activation code into the keypad. The signal light on the arming handle switched to a stable green. Instead of inputting a detonation sequence, he typed '999' at the end of the code before giving the arming handle a clockwise twist. The handle receded into the device, its signal light switching from a stable green to a slow pulsing yellow.

"Link established."

"Same here." Mito said. "Ep-6?"

"What're you calling me for? I was just waiting on you guys."

"We're set." Nova said. "We're leaning over into our extraction time now. I'll phone in with Noble-2. Then we'll see if we can't shut off these lights."

"I suggest we lock that door before we bail." Rico advised. "It's the only one that leads down here. Wouldn't want one of their Engineers stumbling across these things."

"Sounds like a plan."

Nova led the way back to the door. They spotted several levers in the wall right next to it. After making sure of the connection, Mito gave each of them a pull, drawing the floor into darkness.

Duncan took one last look at his device to make sure it was good to go before glancing at the other three. Four yellow lights pulsed in the blackness as they rushed back onto the stairs.

:********:

"Charges planted in Triad Community Center, Fireteam 4 moving to exfiltration now."

"Copy." Kat said, keeping an eye out for the rest of her team as she listened to her comms. "Fireteams 2 and 3 are also extracting. We'll rendezvous with you in '10."

"Understood, Noble-2. Ep-2 out."

Kat allowed herself to relax a little. The trap was set. It was only a matter of time now before they were ready to spring it.

She turned back to the vast basement of the World Cuisine HQ. The intersystem fast-food franchise had stashed a myriad of inventory beneath their base of operations. The concrete expanse was almost entirely buried beneath hills of cardboard boxes. The restaurant's branding was so ubiquitous that there was nowhere she could turn without seeing the name of the business itself. Foundational support columns jutted out from the sea of storage items like towering islands. Two of those furthest to the eastward side of the building bore demolition charges. She'd planted those herself. Two more in the lane behind them also bore the devices like leeches on a pair of legs, courtesy of her backup. While Ep-7 hadn't been able to carry a charge, Whiskey-3 and 4 enabled her to keep their demolition capacity relatively even.

Nearby, 1st Platoon's sniper pair as well as their radioman were crouched down in conversation near the heart of the basement. She had patched her communications through the latter's equipment to keep tabs on the rest of the team. With Fireteam 4 now on its way back, there was no reason for her to stay behind.

Except for one.

She strolled back towards her team, eying the yellow lights on the demolition charges as she went. "Ep-7, link me to 5-Actual. I need a word."

"On it, Noble-2." Zack said. "One sec."

As he worked on his equipment, she took the opportunity to reload her sidearm, having spent the last magazine on a pair of Jackals that had taken up a roost in the foyer.

Zack nodded back. "You're good."

"Noble-2 to 5-Actual, come in, over."

"5-Actual here." Captain Barrett replied. "Go ahead, Noble-2."

"How're things on your end?"

"Couldn't be better. We got that Phantom you asked for ready to go."

"And the crew?"

"What crew?"

Kat felt a smile weave across her face of its own accord. "Perfect. Be ready for dust-off. Team 1's finished up on our side of things. I'll give you more details on where to land in the next half an hour or so."

"Copy that, Spartan. Ready and waiting."

Kat signed off and waved her team to her side. "Come on, we're leaving."

Mackley and Langhorst followed without issue.

Zack lingered. "But-"

"This ends one of two ways, Ep-7. Either you tag along or I knock you out and carry you out. Your choice."

She watched the radioman mull it over for a second.

"...Well, if it means I don't have to walk."

"Good luck with the blast, Helljumper." Kat strode off to the exit with the snipers in tow.

"No-no, wait, hold on." Zack said as he scrambled after them, earning another smile out of her as he did. "It was just a joke, LC. Wait up."

Venatus - Hunted