M16 braced as the boat lurched up into the air, flying off a swell before coming down in a crash into the water below. Spray peppered her face as she stared out over the bow, watching as the morning light crept over the water to cast long shadows over the surface. To their east, beneath the rising sun, a silhouette loomed in the distance. If she squinted, she could just make out the finer details of a destroyer on patrol. The boys had reassured her they were in the clear, but it was not lost on her that they were hugging the shore tightly as they sailed along the coast of Tarkov. The distant warship didn't appear to care about them thankfully. Should it have wanted to, that ship could have easily blown their little craft from the water.
Eventually, they began to slow and pulled into a small commercial dock. Ted hopped out first, snagging a line to tie the little craft down with. The two of them, with help from the others, then began to offload the four heavy backpacks holding her share of the loot, plus that which she'd gotten from the health resort.
M16 and Ted then departed, two bags each, while the others stayed behind with the boat.
The coast wasn't far from the edge of the reserve. After passing by a few scattered houses and looping around a small abandoned town, they came upon the river that 16 knew cut through the reserve. They followed it for some time, until in the distance a familiar small mountain loomed over the horizon.
She knew things would be more difficult from here. Not only were the scavs more abundant along the rest of the route, but that sunken village where she'd encountered those unknown gunmen also lay along their path. The two of them, ladened down with heavy, bulky bags, would be easy and tempting targets for all parties. It would be best to hide the loot somewhere nearby, and recover each bag one at a time.
Sure enough, just through the trees nearby was a small patch of grass. Surrounded by bushes and trees, it was difficult to see in from outside, but should be easy enough for her to come back and forth when retrieving her loot.
"Alright, I think this will do," she announced, setting down her bags in the hollow.
"You're sure?" Ted asked, carefully navigating over the bushes with his own load, "Is your place nearby?"
"Yeah," she lied. They were still a bit over two klicks away from the bunker, but she didn't want to give away that bit of intel. "However, there's a few less than savory locals in the area too. Both of us carrying all this shit will draw too much attention."
At least that last part was true. Though the path from here to the bunker shouldn't bring her near any gangs, It'd been a couple days since she'd been in the area. While it was unlikely that things had changed much in that time, one could never be too sure.
"Ah, I see," Ted replied, setting his bags down beside the one's 16 had just put down.
"I appreciate the help though, it would've been a real pain to carry this all by myself."
"Course, any time." Ted extended one massive hand, offering a shake.
16 took the offer, her own hand looking almost comically small compared to the human's. The handshake was firm, but it didn't seem like he was trying to crush her hand.
With that, Ted departed, heading back the way he came towards the coast.
She watched him go for a while, tracking on thermals until there was too much in the way of clutter for her to get a signature. She stayed a minute longer, watching to see if he had turned back, but never caught another glimpse of the man.
"Huh," she said aloud, before returning her focus to the five black bags at her feet.
For some reason, she'd expected him to linger. Maybe only to watch her, maybe for some other purpose. Indeed it took a while for her to be convinced he truly had left. Eventually though, she hefted one of the bags over her shoulder, and after scanning the woods all around for a while, set back off for home.
"Urgggggggggggghhhh," 16 groaned as she toppled over onto her cot. The metal wire frame squeeked in protest as her weight pressed against the thin bedding.
The bunker hadn't changed a bit since she'd left a few days ago. The generator had nearly run through its fuel supply, so she'd needed to swap the cans on arrival. That though, was all she had the patience for. Her cot wasn't nearly as soft as the bed the boys had provided, but it felt like home. She felt ready to nap a few days away laying in it.
She did miss that shower though.
"I take it you're back?"
16's good eye glanced over towards M4's still unmoving body, set in her own cot on the opposite wall. Dandelion. The connection quality seemed better than before, her comms coming through far clearer than last they'd spoken. This had been a growing trend, each communication being a bit better in quality than the last, to the point that now it sounded as if Dandelion were transmitting from right next to her.
"I am," she mumbled, flopping back into her bed. She badly wanted a drink, but remembered mournfully that she'd already used up her Cognac. Maybe Jaeger would have something.
"Some. I can send an updated diagnostic of Luansia's physical damage at your convenience."
"Please," 16 muttered.
A file was sent over the network from M4. Sure enough it was a full damage assessment, complete with suggested repair priorities and possible substitutions for more complex parts. It didn't paint a great picture of M4's state though. Much of it she already knew, limbs were damaged or severed, power systems were degraded, so on. Many parts were listed as needing outright replacement, which was a pain due to how much that would cost. What concerned her more was the internal damage, specifically to M4's FCS. This was not an easy to repair component, and M16 feared that finding the materials to repair it may be well beyond the realm of possibility.
"Is there any good news?"
"Well, some."
16's head snapped over. Her stare was met in kind by two soft green eyes peering at her. Her body locked up as she looked at M4's body, head and body raised and propped up on a damaged arm. A small look of amusement forming on her lips.
"Speechless?" M4's voice was laced with a smug undertone.
16's brow furrowed. Something was off, she didn't sound right. In fact she didn't really look right either. Those were M4's features, her body, yet the expression she wore didn't feel quite right. It felt forced, false. It reminded her of 45 more than M4. Or…
"Dandelion?" she asked, her tone even.
M4's face sunk into a frown, "Aw, I was hoping for tears."
"What are you…? Is M4 okay?!"
Dandelion sighed, "Luansia's fine, I believe. Her neural core is still very much active and largely undamaged."
"Then what's wrong with her, and why are you puppeting her?!"
"I downloaded myself back onto her frame, mostly so I could actually run diagnostics without needing to suffer our poor connection. As for what's wrong with her neural core… I don't know."
"The hell do you mean you don't know?!"
If Dandelion were in any other body, M16 would have punched her at this point, yet the sight of M4's face alive and staring at her made such a thing unthinkable. Instead she contented herself with the meanest glare she could manage and a pair of tightly balled fists.
Dandelion shrugged, "Her core is active, but I can't interact with it beyond basic diagnostics. It's totally locked up. Based on the power draw and heat it's generating, I suspect she is performing some incredibly intensive process, though I can't guess as to what."
That was not what M16 wanted to hear. It'd almost be better if it were inactive, albeit this was better than her core being destroyed. M4's core had been locked up before, after an incident with the SF mastermind. Breaking her out of that had been… costly.
She was still active though, which is better than the last time. Perhaps she would come out of it on her own eventually.
16 intensified her glare on Dandelion, "If that's the case, what are you running on?"
"Ah, an excellent question. I see why you're the big sister. I had to put myself on a few different things, it's really quite messy to be honest with you. A rather large segment is currently on Lunasia's command module, and I was forced to put many of my less important functions purely on RAM."
16 raised an eyebrow, "Not long term storage? So if I shut M4 off, you'll go away?"
"I'll still haunt you." Dandelion stuck out her tongue. " In any case, I wouldn't recommend that. Whatever it is Lunasia is doing will also be interrupted."
"It could also fix her, no?"
"Potentially. However, her core is drawing a significant amount of power, much more than normal. If you unplugged her, with the damage to her power systems in mind, she would be completely out of power within five hours. With how intensive this process is, a sudden loss in power could create a fault in her core."
At nominal conditions, M4 should have a battery life of close to two hundred hours. The damage to her power system wasn't bad enough to reduce her life span by that much, not even close. Of course, Dandelion could be lying. Short of pulling the plug on M4 though, she didn't have a good way to test it. If it wasn't a lie, that could kill her.
"Additionally, I'll still be able to contact you through her once you decide to plug her back in, and you can't stop me from repairing the instance of myself on her frame. You wouldn't be rid of me for long."
"You still have a connection to your real self?"
Dandelion nodded, "I open the connection and update every few minutes, about fifteen minutes on this end. Fun fact by the way…"
"I don't care," 16 said, cutting her off. She lay back down in her cot, trying to calm her temper.
"Too bad. The temporal difference between our two worlds is not consistent. I've noted for my main self, the time interval between updates differs by small amounts each time, up to a five point four three six second delta."
"Relevance?"
"None so far, but it is interesting. The number of data points I've accumulated thus far is statistically significant."
M16 didn't reply. Honestly she didn't really know what else to say. Staring at this creature in her sister's skin, wearing her face but doing so in a way that made the difference between the two obvious. Dandelion lacked the right warmth, the kindness. She had instead an almost alien hollowness, like she was a machine generated image that hadn't come out quite right. This and the otherwise unimportant topic had killed almost any motivation to converse 16 had left. Instead she rolled over in her cot, facing up towards the dark concrete ceiling while she rubbed the small ring on her finger between two fingers.
At least M4 was still alive, assuming Dandelion wasn't lying. Perhaps that was worth celebrating in itself.
"Curious?"
"Mmm?" 16 mumbled in reply, not looking towards Dandelion.
"About him? How he's doing?"
16's good eye twitched. It took no small amount of restraint not to look over. She made a vague sound in reply, figuring that Dandelion was going to do what she wanted regardless of 16's reply. She braced internally for it, determined not to let her get a rise out of her. She reached out of her covers for the small wall mounted lamp near her bed, and switched it off. The bunker immediately fell to a near impenetrable darkness, save for the distant blinking LEDs of the generator on the far side of the room.
"Well. He's doing well, the doctors cleared him to return to full time work, though as you might imagine he's already been at it for a couple weeks."
That did sound about right. Even from when they first met, he'd always been a workaholic. Always eager to do his job, eager to make sure all his dolls were taken care of, even if it meant burning the wick at both ends. Her lips curled into a little grin at the thought, though it died again as Dandelion continued.
"Ro and I are helping quite a bit too. Rebuilding."
"I'm surprised you're allowed to work with them," 16 muttered.
"Heh. I'm a well kept secret. "
"Cool…"
16 shut her eye, squeezing it tight as she began to initiate entering sleep mode. Dandelion creeped her out, but she needed to rest. Needed out of this conversation. M4's body should be immobile, and 16's weapon was well out of reach from her, so Dandelion was no real threat. Ew concerns she mitigated by shutting her comms off. Finally, she snuck a hand down into the crack between her cot and the wall, finding a makeshift UDC chord she'd tucked into the space, and plugged herself in. A small trickle of power began to pour in, along with her system's estimate for when she'd reached a full charge.
She would have to come up with some other way to handle Dandelion, or perhaps some way to get rid of her, later. For now, this setup would just have to do.
"He talks about you." Dandelion's voice broke the quiet.
16 lurched, her eye snapped open. The cot beneath her squeaked as her body reacted before she could restrain her reaction.
"Hehe, gotcha."
M16 slowly turned her head towards Dandelion, activating her eye's low light mode as she did. Her retina cast a small, pale yellow-green field of light over the other cot, allowing her to see in full detail the smug self-satisfied look M4's face had been formed into.
"Stop it," She growled.
"Oooh scary. I see you're both each other's weak point."
"Tch. You're a creep, you know that?"
"I have been told."
M16 was up after only a couple hours, gathering her gear for another expedition beyond the bunker in a desperate attempt to avoid further interactions with Dandelion. She managed to slip out of the bunker without interacting, sparing only a moment to glance at M4's still features before heading back up the stairs to the world above.
There was alot of work to be done.
Ferrying her bags to the bunker was her first priority, not wanting her hard earned goods to be stolen by some lucky scav stumbling upon them.
It took a few hours, but the day proved quiet and uneventful. She got the final bag down into the bunker just as the sun was starting to wander back down.
Unfortunately, Dandelion was active again on 16's return, prompting another swift exit lest she be caught in another unpleasant exchange. 16 only grabbed a few more valuable items, including a few boxes of the EOTech sights, before heading back up once more. She ate a meal seated at the top of the bunker stairs, looking out at the browning leaves and listening to the wildlife all around as she chewed on an expired packet of military crackers.
It was about mid october now, they were likely only a month and some change away from the first snow at the latest. Given where she'd chosen to make her hideout this could be an issue. She needed a way to keep their bunker from flooding, and someway to keep them from being snowed in. She wasn't too sure how bad the winters in Tarkov would get, but it wouldn't hurt to over-prepare.
Jaeger would probably have some ideas, but she'd have to ask him another day. Today, she needed to head to the factory.
16 wrapped up her meal, tossing the empty wrappers down into the bunker entrance before gathering her kit and heading out. She passed by her the trail cams set up around the bunker, making sure none had been damaged while she'd been out, before making for the bridge.
She followed the same route as always, over the bridge, around the towns, and through the woods to the secret entrance in the burned out building. From there she followed along the tunnel into the old Polikhim Factory.
Though various groups of BEARs and scavs had all tried their luck recently, the USECs still occupied the factory. However it was clear that this had taken a toll on them. No longer were there lax guards sitting around barrel fires near each entrance, but instead a small number of highly alert troopers holed up in the offices. Nowadays they only ventured from this sanctuary for roaming patrols or to chase off some dumb intruder on the factory floor. She suspected it wouldn't be long before the place changed hands.
Creeping along the tunnels under the factory floor, 16 was able to proceed in relative safety to Mechanic's shop. Above she could hear sounds of some motion, likely a scav picking through an unoccupied room for valuables, but otherwise the old factory was deathly quiet.
On reaching her destination, M16 knocked twice on the rusty metal door and looked up at the camera hanging above her. A moment after, the lock clicked and the door slowly opened. Mechanic was within, already moving away towards a workbench without even acknowledging her. He was not alone, however. Another man sat in a small metal chair nearby to the door, dressed in unmarked fatigues and armor. His eyes, sharp and blue, carefully looked her up and down as she entered.
She offered a polite nod to him, as wary of the stranger as he was of her, but aware that a peaceful coexistence was necessary within this place.
Samoylov was working on a weapon, a short barrel M4A1 fitted with an expensive thermal scope and magpul drum magazine. Such a weapon no doubt had set the man back a small fortune to order from Mechanic.
She had been tempted in the past to place her own order. After all, if she could get her hands on her imprinted, and namesake, weapon, her combat effectiveness would be massively improved. However, as Samoyov had explained, M16A1's were not issued by USEC and so would have to be imported to the region, and would be both incredibly difficult and expensive. In lieu of this M16 had intended to order a long barrel M4 as a reasonable substitute, and had been saving rubles and resources for the purpose prior to her trek to the health resort. Now though, with a G36 in hand which performed fairly similarly, she figured it was no longer worthwhile to go ahead with it. Those funds could be better served in repairs and maintenance.
Mechanic finished his work, and picked the rifle up off the table. He took a shooting stance, pulled the charging handle a few times and then flicked on the safety.
"Done."
The man stood, his eyes never leaving M16 for more than a few moments as he moved deliberately over towards Mechanic. He took the weapon from Samoylov, and began to perform his own inspection. He turned it over, looked down the sight, and took his own stances before nodding. Without a word, he withdrew a bound stack of rubles from his pocket, and offered them to Samoylov.
Mechanic took the money and pocketed it. Their exchange over, the stranger carefully made for the exit. M16 took a couple steps away from the door, and met his eyes as he stepped out. That was a person she would do well to avoid.
"Well Anna, what brings you here?" Mechanic asked as the door creaked closed once more.
16 looked over towards Samoylov. The man had settled into the office chair near the array of monitors on the far wall, and was busy lighting up a cigarette.
"Repairs," she grunted, "took a couple hits recently."
"Out near the city center right?" he muttered in reply.
"You saw?"
He nodded, gesturing to his computer screen. As always, some were displaying footage from cameras in various places around the city. "There are cameras all over that part of town, though I am curious just what sort of trouble you and your friends found in the factory."
As he spoke, he gestured towards a chair nearby his desk. After the first few times she'd come to him, he'd acquired a reclining chair similar to one used by dentists. It wasn't too comfortable, but it did make repairs and diagnostics notably easier.
16 took the offered seat and pulled off her ill fitted jacket, tossing it aside, and revealing the wadded bandage over her upper bicep. She peeled the tape and gauze back, revealing a tangle of wiring, synth muscle, and endoskeleton beneath poking up through the tear in her skin.
"I see," he muttered, leaning over to see before pulling up a schematic matching the relevant area.
In total, she'd been to this shop for repairs nine times, ten including this one. In the process she'd been forced by necessity to hand over more and more of her own design drawings to the man. It was to the point now that with a little reading between the lines, he could probably fabricate a new doll frame. To his credit though, Samoylov had never asked any questions. He hadn't pressed her for more information than necessary to do the job, and had rarely shown more than passing interest in what she was. He was certainly smart enough to have put things together by now, and she was certainly suspicious about his true feelings on the matter, but for now he seemed content to maintain their status quo.
He did seem to find the repair work interesting, perhaps he simply didn't want to lose the work.
"It was quite the firefight, with a group I've not seen before. Spooky bastards, real quiet, and really tough."
"Hmm," Samoylov hummed as began to inspect the injured area beneath a bright work light with a smoldering cigarette held between his lips, "I have noticed that the scavs in that area avoid going in there at night. Perhaps this other group is the reason."
"Probably," she muttered, "took a hit mid reload. Took the guy's gun as payback."
Samoylov shot a quick glance at the G36 set down beside the chair, "G36? Interesting. Would you like me to check it over?"
She cracked a thin grin, "That covered in my compensation?"
He paused for a moment, thinking, "I suppose. You did go beyond what I expected."
"Ah yeah. Any updates on what that signal is by the way?" she asked.
Samoylov reached for a thin pair of pliers, a stainless steel tool that looked like someone had welded a pair of scalpels together. Using the tool, he began to pull out several of the ripped wire bundles and manipulate the injured area.
"Some. It is Terragroup in origin, though is designed to not appear that way. I've yet to decide on what to do about it however."
"Okay, well keep me in mind if you decide to kill it."
Samoylov didn't reply.
Minutes stretched on and on as the man began to painstaking strip, solder, and reinsulate each of the severed connections in the injured area. 16 allowed herself to fall into a standby mode, aware of what he was doing, but otherwise minimizing her processing functions. Mechanic liked to work in quiet.
A few hours passed. The wiring was all repaired, the endoskeleton inspected, the hardshell cover replaced, the synth muscle re-fused, and the skin patched over. It wasn't a perfect repair, but good enough. Doing better would've required tools and materials that just weren't available in this time and place.
Once she was patched up, he then snagged the rifle off the floor and began to inspect it, pulling it apart and checking each component before neatly setting them down on his bench.
"This is in good condition," he eventually announced, starting to piece it back together, "You'll want to keep an eye on the bolt carrier though, there's some more wear than I would normally expect. Make sure to keep it clean. Would you like any modifications?"
"None right now. I should get a feel for it first," she replied, reawakening herself fully. She repowered her arm, and flexed it experimentally. Diagnostics showed it back to near perfect condition.
"Very well. Anything else?"
"Yes, actually. I'd like to leave an order. I need a stock of replacement parts."
Mechanic raised an eyebrow, "You know where to send it."
16 wordlessly transmitted a list of parts to the man's network. It was a parts list of everything M4's body needed replaced, though she was not about to reveal that to him. She was curious if he'd be able to tell however, M4 and herself were different designs, and so many of the components would be different to those Samoylov would have made for her in the past.
"This is quite the order," Samoylov remarked, the document listing each needed component reflected in his glasses as he looked it over.
"Anything you can't do?"
"I don't believe so, I should have the machining capacity here for much of this. Materials may not be to the quality you're used to, and it will take time."
She nodded, "That's fine, I don't need them all at once. "
"Then we can discuss some payment. What you brought today should cover some of this, but the full list will take more."
Not unexpected. Her own repairs had never been too cheap, and the few parts she'd needed replaced had come at a premium. From Dandelion's assessment, nearly 35% of M4's components needed to be replaced. The biggest problem items she suspected would be the synth muscle and skin, neither of which could be easily manufactured in a machine shop. On the other hand, they weren't necessary to M4's functionality, merely supportive and cosmetic. They could go without.
"Sure. The usual arrangement?"
Samoylov nodded, "Yes that'll work, and in fact I have something you can get started on right away?"
16 raised an eyebrow, "That being?"
He nodded over towards a workbench on the far side of the room. There were a few gun parts set atop the work space, most of which she didn't recognize beyond a couple common components.
"I have another client, much like the one you saw earlier, who has requested a specific weapon. Long story short, he wants an SVDS in not too bad shape and in a specific configuration. I've the parts here, but my problem is that he wants it by tomorrow, and I've yet to acquire one."
"Okay. You need me to find one then?"
"Actually I've already done that. What I need is for you to go get it. You see, it's currently in the hands of a sniper working for the gang controlling the customs area not far from here. If you can get it, I'll consider us even for a few more parts on your order."
"How do you know he has it?"
Mechanic walked over towards the main array of monitors, and brought up a video from what appeared to be CCTV footage. It showed in grainy footage a man sitting atop a tall tower in the distance, in his hands a black Dragunov rifle.
"This was yesterday. The gang in the area has grown more tense as there have been scuffles with another gang. This man is often on overwatch over the south side, though he has a few positions I've seen him in."
"Alrighty, sounds good to me. Can you show me how to get there?"
The route through the old gas station proved to be a quick and easy path into the customs area. The rotten old building and the few equally dilapidated cars in the lot outside were all she found past the heavy wrought iron gate that separated it from the factory district. However, it was not quiet.
Far, far from it. As M16 came to rest against a small grassy berm just outside the station, she could barely hear herself think over the thundering sounds of Kalashnikovs and machine guns. Dozens of weapons chattering with reckless abandon, forming an unending stream of reports. It was pretty obvious even before she laid eyes on the weapon's users that Samoylov had undersold the 'scuffle'.
16's berm supported a rail line that passed through the area, gently curving around the old station behind her before wandering off past a few nearby industrial buildings. A few old train cars still sat rotting on the rails, and she'd chosen the nearest to hunker down behind and watch the unfolding fight.
Far down the tracks, she could see who she presumed were the aggressors of this fight, a pack of thirty or so bandits were set up on the far side of the rail line's curve. They'd placed a couple machine guns and were busy putting as much lead as humanly possible into their opponents. Said opponents were primarily holed up in the skeletal remains of an old two-story warehouse, one they'd clearly spent some time fortifying into a veritable fortress. Emplaced machine guns and even a grenade launcher thundered back at their attackers while incoming rounds pinged off of metal plates setup to provide cover. 16 couldn't tell their numbers, but every now and then she spied a couple of the men coming and going out the back, running off beyond where she could see before returning, ladened with tin boxes of what she presumed was ammunition.
Neither side seemed to be trying to push a flank at the moment, instead content to beat each other senseless with automatic fire. To their credit, neither side was visibly withering under the fire. She was curious how long they would be willing to stick this fight out like this, surely at some point these idiots would decide whatever this was over wasn't worth dying for, or at least get bored, right?
16 shook her head, willing herself to refocus. It didn't matter to her, she was here for only one thing.
She began searching for the man Samoylov had marked, or any other who may have the needed weapon. Above the rattling she could hear at least one SVDS firing an occasional shot, but it was difficult to get a bearing against the reports and their echoes. It was like trying to find a needle in a stack of toothpicks, 16 being pricked everytime a stray round zipped past her head or struck the train car above her.
It took nearly twenty minutes for her luck to change. In the distance, beyond the battle, an explosion shot up into the air over the buildings, and more distant rifle chatter followed shortly after. In the fortress, she saw moments later a sudden burst of movement. Men rushing out from the concealed positions to face the direction it'd come, weaving amongst the concrete pillars on the first and second floors. It seemed that the attackers had opened a new axis of attack.
A barking weapon snapped twice in quick succession from nearby, drawing her attention away. Another of the buildings the defenders had setup in was a mid-sized, two story industrial building set a bit behind the fortress itself. The scavs had set themselves up in an overlook position in the second story, along a long row of glass windows.
As the battle shifted, the men in this building became more active. Presumably they had an angle on the new front, and now 16 caught a glimpse of a barrel emerging from one of the windows. It was long and black, with a molded circular front sight and a long black handguard she recognized.
The dragunov snapped another shot off at some unseen target. The distinct report in time with the muzzle kick serving as all the confirmation she needed. Unconsciously, her thumb tried to flick on the fire selector, though was disappointed to only find smooth polymer. 16, realizing the mistake, corrected and flicked the G36's switch on the other side of the grip.
She knew where her target was, but getting there wouldn't be easy.
There was only one way into the building that she could see: a small door facing her way. To reach it she'd have to cross over a large flat section of ground that lay directly under the backside of the fortress, with only a few metal shipping containers for cover.
Cautiously, M16 slid back down the berm, before creeping alongside the rail as it circled around the fortress. Eventually she reached a small bridge which led the rail away from the fight. After a quick glance towards the warring parties, 16 dashed up the berm and over the rail, sliding down into a depression on the far side. She was within a quick dash of the door now, but it was nothing but flat open ground.
Her eye narrowed as she scanned the overlooking fortress. She could see activity on the top floor well from her new position, but the bottom floor was totally hidden. There didn't appear to be anyone watching this direction, but if a scav just happened to look her way as she was crossing, her only warning would be a bullet.
"Tch," she scoffed. She checked her weapon, verifying the safety was off and the fire selector was on automatic. She made sure a round was chambered, ensured the mag was secure, and made her grenades and spare magazines were still in good places on her rig. Finally, she brought her systems up to combat settings. Her arm and weapon would slow her down, but if she was quick and confident, she might just get away with this. She didn't need to win the whole battle, just get the stupid rifle and leave. They didn't know she was coming.
She then scanned the area one last time, before taking a deep breath.
M16 launched herself from the depression with near inhuman speed, boots churning up dust and dirt in her wake as she tore over the two dozen meters between her and her entrance. She slipped through a stack of containers, weaving around them and keeping the metal objects between her and the fortress before once more taking off at a sprint for the distant doorway.
16 slipped inside, skidding to a halt as she took her bearings. The interior was dilapidated, with hanging light fixtures and debris all over the floor. Up above the roar of gun fire deafened her to any other sounds, save the furious cursing of the shooters.
There were no guards overlooking the entrance, and a cursory scan revealed no humans on the lower floor. Clearly these were no professionals, but she was surprised at just how lax their security was.
Still, that was their own fault, so she moved in. She kept her rifle up, sweeping it and clearing each room and corner she encountered as she sought a way up to the second level. Soon enough, she found a set of creaking rusted metal stairs, and slowly began to move up them.
At the top of the stairs, 16 found herself staring through a narrow doorway at the backs of several men manning machine guns and rifles on the other side. They all appeared far too busy to even notice her, so without a second thought 16 ripped a frag off her rig, pulled the pin, and tossed it through the doorway. She then rushed up to the wall beside the door, and waited.
Three seconds passed, and a solid thump of the grenade shook the floor beneath her feet in time with a plume of dust and debris shooting through the open doorway beside her.
Thermals on, 16 rushed through the door. Immediately she found several bodies near where the grenade had fallen, however a nearby spot of orange on the ground was moving to point a weapon towards her general direction.
She shot it through the still swirling dust.
M16 dashed aside as rounds ripped through where she'd been standing, before firing a long stream of lead into another group of scavs further down the room. On thermals she could see several shudder and collapse, or fall to the ground gripping injuries.
Had these been professional fighters, she could've expected a hail or return fire at this point from those still able to fight. Perhaps even a few grenades. However, most of those who could be called fit to fight were likely both overwhelmed from the ongoing battle already, and struck dumb by her sudden assault. So, very little opposition arose, allowing her to pick her targets at will.
She hit those with AKs first, followed by a couple men with Mosin Nagants. Shortly after she found her mark, the man tried to wield his clumsy Dragunov to find her amongst the bodies and debris. A single bullet put his efforts to an end.
A couple rounds sparked against the concrete near her, but 16 held her nerves and returned accurate fire her opponents could neither match nor withstand. It wasn't long before all those on the second floor had been total there had been only about a dozen men, and none had managed more than a burst in reply to her sudden assault. After changing her weapon's magazine, she moved over across the room and reached down to snag the SVDS laying beside its former owner.
"Sorry buddy, need it more than you," she muttered as she pulled up on the heavy weapon. The dead man's fingers still stubbornly clung to the weapon's grip, as if he still wanted to protest the theft, but a final jerk forced the Dragunov up and away from him at last.
It was then that M16 realized just how quiet it had gotten. The pounding of machine guns and rifles ceasing for the first time in what felt like a century. She shot a quick look out of the windows the scavs had been firing from, only to find something she didn't understand.
A black and white figure was rushing along the open ground at inhuman speeds. The defenders still in the fortress had ceased firing, presumably in shock, and a few were standing at the edge of the second floor with mouths agape as they watched.
16 realized in a moment of horror that it was rushing towards her.
Realizing time was of the essence, she made for the stairway she'd entered from, hoping to slip back out the exit before it arrived. She dashed back towards the doorway, and nearly made it when an internal warning sounded.
She narrowly ducked out the way as a wave of jagged glass exploded out all around her as something burst into the room. 16 whirled around wildly to face the attacker, only to be met with a blade slashing down at her head. She narrowly managed to avoid the strike, but in reward a boot was planted firmly into her side that sent her crashing into the wall beside the doorway.
As she shook the dust from her face, 16 looked up to see an annoyingly familiar face staring back down.
She was tall, with long white hair draped down well past her shoulders. She didn't wear her usual clothing, but instead a set of civilian jeans, a pure black tank top, and a familiar looking black and orange jacket draped over her shoulders. In one hand she held a weapon featuring two long black spikes with a small emitter in between. Of course, her face was twisting into an almost friendly smile as the woman's pale yellow eye stared down at her, the other concealed beneath a black eyepatch.
"Oh, it's you?" The woman scoffed.
"You're kidding… Why're you here Alchemist?"
Well Well Well, the time has at last come, and just in time for wipe in Tarkov! I actually wound up reworking the customs scene due to the map changes, though I had to be given a tour of the new area cus I can't play for a few weeks. (thanks Sarhat!)
Moving right along. We of course have Dandelion taking a more active role in the story, which I felt appropriate given that the story takes place from the end of Polarized light through Dual randomness. M4 is busy doing some rather important work so Dande will be filling in for now. Shes one of the more fun characters to write from GFL.
And then of course, there's Alchemist. Her inclusion was an idea I have shamelessly stolen, and I have some fun ideas of where to take her going forward. It does round out the GFL cast rather nicely though I think.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time