"We have to go back."
F.E.A.R. Captain David Raynes' gloved hand tightened on the rung hanging overhead, where he stood in the Black Hawk's cargo bay. It had hit him all at once, not long after the completion of their mission. Their narrow escape from the Perseus Compound and island. He had opened the comlink channel again, to the scattered units, hearing them all over the city. Taking out his datapad again, he watched the various locations their signals were emanating from... useless signals calling for reinforcements and evacuation. The chaos and insanity in the wake of the Vault's cataclysmic destruction. Even now, nobody could get through to SFOD-D Command, CENTCOM, or to the F.E.A.R. Commissioner. They were in the homestretch, above the waters just outside Fairport. He wanted nothing more than to head back to F.E.A.R. Compound... hang up his armor, guns, deliver the sample to Betters and call it a night. A stiff drink, good meal, shower and sleep. The aftermath report of it all could wait.
And then what? Nightmares, full of the faces of the men he could have saved. Alongside the ones he couldn't. He still had Chen's family to face. To explain to his wife, his kids, what had happened to their husband and father. Sick shit that shouldn't happen to any man. The supernatural. The impossible made possible, and beyond all explanation.
He looked out the open side door of the chopper, watching the smoke and fires rising in the night from Fairport. Listening to the steady rhythm of the engine and swishing rotors. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, and when he opened them, the devastated city was still there. His duty was still there. He had seen plenty, in his day, ever since joining F.E.A.R... phenomena that defied explanation. This wasn't his first rodeo... but he'd never seen anything like Fairport. This was probably the one... and the moment where he could choose to live and fight another day, another cause, somewhere else... or do what he was supposed to do, and probably die for it. Fuck it. He looked around at the helicopter crew again... they had all been through the shit since the Armacham and Fettel business had started, and deserved some rest. A much deserved vacation. He knew what he was asking of them, but he made the call all the same. The mustached Night Stalker named Hughes, looked back over his shoulder to where he stood, his alarmed co pilot doing the same.
"Excuse me, Captain? You want to run that one by me again? I think I misheard you. I hope I did."
"You heard me just fine, bub. We have to go back. Like I told the Sergeant here already, just because everything's gone to hell doesn't mean we don't have a job to do. We can't leave Fairport yet. Not in this condition."
"What the hell are you talking about? There's nothing more we can do here. Your mission is accomplished, and ours is to extract you. We can leave that fucking mess back there behind."
Spoke up one of the chopper's gunners incredulously... a younger Delta Force operator whose name he hadn't caught. His partner on the M134 Minigun, a veteran Master Sergeant called Thomas, no relation to the SCU Agent turned private occult detective Raynes knew well and who occasionally worked with F.E.A.R., cast a scowl his way, visible through his clear goggles. He was one hell of an operator and door gunner, and had gotten most of them away alive from a Replica Mech and squad back at Armacham Plaza. Evidently he wasn't keen on the rookie replacement to the partner he had lost in the process.
"Clone soldiers, ghosts, psychics, corporate troops and assassins, all that creepy shit you F.E.A.R. guys deal in are not in our area of expertise! Let the National Guard handle it! Earn their paychecks for once!"
Captain Raynes' eyes narrowed at the young Delta Force operator. Irritated. For more reasons than one. But he knew part of it was the fact that like the D-Boy, he wanted nothing more than to leave. To never look back. He remained resolved, silently shouting down his own hesitations and doubts. His wishes. And verbally pushing back against them.
"This isn't about all that. Fucking Cthulhu could be down there in that hell and it wouldn't change things. This is about the two hundred and fifty Delta operators in the company stuck down there, cut off, stranded and encircled. By Replicas, ATC... you name it. Worse. If they aren't dead, my fellow F.E.A.R. operatives are in the same boat. No communications to the outside to call for help. No expectation of a medevac or reinforcements. Facing all those things you mentioned. I started out with you D-Boys before I joined F.E.A.R., so why do I remember the old motto better than you? Leave no man behind. Or were you planning on getting some shut eye while those boys down there die in gruesome ways you couldn't begin to imagine? Will that appeal to your better nature, or do I have to make it an order?"
The rookie shut right up at that, and at the scathing look he got from operator Thomas. He remained standing for a bit, looking like he wanted to come up with a comeback. But looking back at Raynes awkwardly, he had nothing. The matter was settled. Hughes looked away from Raynes gradually, ahead out over the open sea, to their path home. Then the helicopter began to bank a bit, shifting wind direction... and the view beyond the window across from Raynes changed. From the sea, from escape, back to the smoking city of Fairport, back to the mission. The pilot's voice spoke over the intercom with resignation as the decision was made.
"We're turning this bird around now. Got plenty of fuel anyways. Dust 6 is en route."
"That's the spirit, Hughes."
"Fuck.", The rookie muttered under his breath, taking his seat again, laying his G2A2 Assault Rifle across his lap . Pressing his helmeted head back against the wall of the chopper, banging it lightly. "Gonna get killed for sure. I don't get paid enough for this shit."
"Neither did one of my guys. He did his duty to the end all the same. Everyone dies, you knew that when you signed up. Stow the complaints, rookie. If your ass were down on the ground it's your boots I'd be pulling out of the fire."
"Sir, yes sir."
The rookie's tone was a bit defeated, but compliant. Seeing the reason. With reluctance... but compliance all the same. It was good enough for Raynes... he didn't expect anyone to throw a fucking party over the bomb he had dropped in their laps. Least of all one man in particular on the helicopter who hadn't spoken one way or the other on the matter. Hadn't even looked up, sitting in the corner seat rubbing his jaw absently and reading a book he was roughly at the midpoint of. Had been reading off and on since the C-130 to Fairport in the first place. Reading between all the asses the one man army had been kicking non stop around the city from the moment they had deployed.
"You with me, Sergeant? One more time?"
The Sergeant's steely grey eyes looked up from the book slowly at last, slipping a red bookmark in it and tucking it away, gloved hand leaving his goatee, as he considered the rookie, and then Raynes. He had been staring out the window for awhile after they took off, before taking out his book... hadn't said a word since the island. His TG-2A Minigun sat on the floor in front of his boots. He carried sidearms and a variety of grenades and other devices and weapons as well. Over his shoulders, on either side of his backpack, he had slung a Type-12 Laser Carbine and one of the advanced pulse rifles he had taken off the Nightcrawlers. A VES V7 Advanced Rifle, produced by a top ATC competitor, Vector Engineering Systems. By the time it was all over, Vector was probably going to clean up in the arms manufacturing industry. Especially with all the incriminating evidence the First F.E.A.R. Team had gathered on Armacham. Betters was probably processing it now, wherever he was. The Sergeant, wasting no opportunities, had left Perseus Island armed to the teeth. An especially wise precaution now, in hindsight.
He was a quiet one, had been since his transfer not so long ago. Rarely got more than a few words out of him, never supplied a name and Betters never mentioned one. Had told him not to bother asking. He kept to himself usually... liked to read, the classics from what he had seen back at the F.E.A.R. Compound. Dickens, Lovecraft, Twain, Tolkien and Dumas. Classics he had shared with Raynes. It was just as well. Raynes appreciated operatives like him, solid, straight forward and capable of following orders, no matter what. As good working independently as in a unit. That wasn't even getting into what he could do on a battlefield. The memory of what he had watched the Sergeant accomplish against the Replica Elites and Heavies, while waiting for Dust Six, would stay with him the rest of his life. His inhuman reflexes... just like some of the Nightcrawlers had possessed. He owed Betters one for putting a goddamn super soldier into his unit. God knew how the mission would have turned out otherwise. There was no denying the Sergeant had done the bulk of the heavy lifting. Raynes didn't care where he had come from, what the story behind him was, only that he got the job done.
And he had done that and then some with no complaints. He was a damn impressive F.E.A.R. Combat Operative. Probably better than the other more recent super soldier the other team had taken on as a Point Man a week before.
No doubt The Sergeant had been pondering the disturbing events of the mission, everything since they had jumped out of the C-130... what he had seen and faced down in underbelly of the Perseus Compound. Especially all the time he had spent alone, including beneath the city itself and under the Perseus Compound. Shit Raynes didn't want to think about. He had enough on his plate as it was. It was just as well, the Sergeant wasn't talking about it, at least not the finer details. At last, The Sergeant's weathered, exhausted features cracked a hint of a grim smile of assent. Raynes laughed under his breath, not surprised in the least he was game for more, even now.
"Right on, brother. Course you are. Forget a Lieutenant promotion. By the time all this is said and done, I'll have Betters make you the Captain of your own goddamn team, if you want it. You've earned it."
The Sergeant merely nodded noncommittally, turning his head and looking out the window again, to the passing water. And the rapidly approaching Fairport that awaited them. Raynes almost pitied anything that was going to end up in the Sergeant's way. Almost. Anyone or anything that came at him was asking for the death they would receive.
"I assume you have a plan of action, Captain Raynes? Something that doesn't involve us all getting killed?", Came the pilot Hughes' voice over the intercom again. Curious, but mildly amused. "I don't have to remind you how many birds have been shot down in the past couple days? Or that this Black Hawk doesn't have enough room or fuel to ferry every civilian and Delta Force operator safely out of Fairport?"
"Bet your ass I have a plan. Wouldn't have gotten by this long without always having at least one on the backburner.", Raynes muttered with a dismissive wave, looking back down at his datapad, streaming through the ATC files on his Datanet. Locations to their various known facility's and holdings in Fairport. He'd been thinking of it since the Vault and Auburn had exploded... pondering the problem of the lack of contact outside, when he wasn't being shot at, anyways. When he found what he was looking for, he pulled up the transfer icon and activated it. "I'm sending the coordinates to your control screen now."
"Got them. Let's see here. The Armacham Satellite Relay Tower? Are you crazy? That's close to downtown. Crawling with Armacham Security Forces. And what about the Replica?"
"Nothing we can't handle. They'll be busy fighting it out anyways. We need to reestablish the uplink for the Hannibal-3 spy satellite. Realign the dish to bring Betters and Den Mother back online for our guys stuck in Fairport. When that's done, we can coordinate with them and figure out what the hell to do next, who's alive, and where we're needed."
"That's a clear objective, at least. What's the plan of attack, Captain?"
"Move in fast, fly boy. The Sergeant and I will drop down onto the rooftop of the complex via cables. We'll clear out and secure the LZ while you guys cover us from the skies. Once it's secure, set the Black Hawk down on the helipad and turn off the engine. No point wasting fuel, or making ourselves an even bigger target than we are. We could be there awhile. Anyone got any objections? Speak now, or forever hold your peace."
Thomas and The Sergeant shook their heads, while the rookie looked like he wanted to object. Same with Hughes' co pilot. They held their tongues all the same, seeing at once that he meant business. The Night Stalker considered the plan as he flew, looking over the control screen, the coordinates, before releasing a low, resolved sigh.
"What the hell. I could use the challenge. Not like I was planning on retiring."
"It's overrated. Believe me. Tried... once."
"I'll take your word for it. ETA five minutes, gentlemen, at top flight speed. You boys better be ready."
"As we'll ever be."
Raynes tucked away his datapad, reached up for the rappel cord on his side of the helicopter and started to hook himself in, securing it to his belt. At last, the Sergeant rose from his seat, keeping his head low, popping the muscles in his neck side to side, and moved over to the door. Grasping it handle firmly, he slid it open all the way back and secured it. Peering out over the passing water as they drew near to the ruined city. Turning, he copied Raynes, starting to loop himself into his own rappel. The process didn't take very long, especially through repetition in training and the missions they underwent. The helicopter went fast at its top flight speed... they were already at the coast, and it would be barely any time at all before they reached the combat zone... but it always seemed too slow to Raynes. When he was secure in his rappel, he checked his weapons, selecting his RPL for the drop, readying it and letting it hang by its sling. At the same time the Sergeant had reached down and scooped up his minigun, hefting it with ease in one hand. Raynes closed his eyes for a minute and breathed slowly. Smelling the smoke, he didn't have to look outside to know they had bypassed the coast and begun flying over the buildings. The salty sea air fading away, replaced by the death rolling off Fairport.
He wasn't an idiot or suicidal. He was afraid before every combat drop, right into the thick of things. It was only worse now, taking Fairport into account... and everything they had just survived. Having to go back into that hell when they could have left. It took all his nerve not to order the pilot to turn around again. All it took was one right bullet, one explosion... and all his armor, training and experience would be worthless. Even a lacklustre trained ATC goon could put him down, if he got lucky. They would be exposed, rappelling in... even with the cover of the Black Hawk. They would only get one shot at it... all it took was one fuck up. One slip. They could only hope the thugs were more scared shitless once the Black Hawk opened up on them. His heart had risen up into his throat, swelling, and he swallowed hard.
All he could do was his best. He'd gotten lucky this long, faced worse odds. At last, he opened his eyes, to watch the Sergeant peering calmly out over the passing city beneath them, and Raynes did the same on his side. Various districts passing along the way. Buildings from tall to small, skyscrapers... tightly packed together. A sprawling metropolis. One he was coming to despise. All passing too fast for him to get much of a decent look. The Sergeant never betrayed fear when it came to normal firefights. Only contact with the supernatural seemed able to shake him... and even then, his threshold for it would put most others who had ever been part of F.E.A.R. in its two decades of existence to shame.
"ETA one minute! We're in view of the tower now!"
His head snapped ahead at the pilot's voice, heeding him. Sure enough, there it was... a looming Armacham complex and tower in one, north of their position. It was covered in windows of offices, some of them illuminated, others turned out... giving him no real look inside, especially with their distance. Every one of their main establishments stood out like a sore thumb on the landscape... and had plenty of employees. With luck, they had all been evacuated, along with the security forces after the shit had hit the fan with Fettel. There was nothing to be gained sticking around manning their posts after the blast. Even if they had been ordered to stay put by their soulless corporate bosses... surely the mall cops weren't being paid enough to throw away their lives guarding some asshole's private property. Not in the middle of this hellscape, after an explosion worthy of a nuclear weapon. It would make things a hell of a lot simpler for everyone and anyone in their right mind would have bailed by now. Fewer people would have to die... more than enough had already. Even so, he was always ready for the worst... so he would never be disappointed. The tower was no skyscraper, nor the size of Armacham Headquarters, but it did have a decent view over Fairport from what he could tell. Good. He wanted to assess the true battlefield that was the rest of the city once the objective was accomplished and the Black Hawk had touched down. Plan their next move. Maps were all well and good, but he wanted to see what he was dealing with from his own eyes.
"Hostiles detected on the landing pad! Armacham Security streaming out of the stairwells too, Captain! It's a trap!"
Figured. Not for the first time since the operation had started, he wondered how much they were being paid for their surprising loyalty. Apparently rent-a-cops were making more than them. Raynes swore as he watched them streaming down over the illuminated LZ, like a nest of angry black and blue hornets. A couple dozen at least already, probably much more inside the tower and complex. More coming through the doors. There was a main pair of doors up a flight of stairs on a long balcony that led into the tower, while on the level below, the main level of the landing pad, there were a couple doors on each end of the roof, for the stairs that descended all the way down through the complex. They were coming through every door. A mixture of standard Security Guards in Kevlar, wearing caps, and Riot Security, more heavily armored and better trained, wearing helmets, faces hidden behind reflective black faceplate. All of them with A.T.C. written on their body armor in white. They took up various defensive positions along the balcony and down on the landing pad, where assorted crates were scattered, hiding behind them.
The Captain glimpsed the shotguns, pistols, submachine guns and assault rifles aiming up at them as they approached, they were already opening fire, most of the rounds missing at the distance, a few sparking off the armor plating of the Black Hawk. One or two reflecting off the thick bullet proof glass, cracking it very slightly. Raynes' jaw tightened, and he stared hard at the combat zone, assessing it and locking every part into memory. No way they could have prepared this quickly on their own... Hughes was right, somebody had tipped them off to the looming assault.
Looked like their hand was being forced. Someone was prepared to throw away the lives of all these men, just to keep their hold on Armacham's satellite array in the middle of a war torn city. The blood was on Armacham's hands, more of it, not on his. Raynes gave the command without any hesitation or regret.
"Light em' up. And get this bird over the landing pad."
The powerful searchlight on the front of the Black Hawk activated, shining down at the LZ with such intensity Raynes saw some of the men recoil, even with their sunglasses and faceplates. Thomas was the second one to light them up, taking aim and starting up the minigun, the barrels beginning to spin. The steady beat of the minigun's barrage pounded inside Raynes temple, and a deadly stream of tracers tore up the LZ, spraying concrete and smoke everywhere it impacted. Shooting short but controlled bursts, taking aim. Striking men and shredding them apart, reducing those it hit to red mist, meat and flying ragdolls, coating the landing pad a rusty sprayed hue. Most of the firing directed at the Black Hawk died down real fast, and Raynes heard screaming below as the security took covered positions, those that could make it at least. The winds of bravado they had burst through the doors and out on to the roof with was just as quickly taken from their sails.
Fear was an effective motivator, a reminder to a man of his mortality... no matter how well he was paid. Raynes couldn't help but grin a little at the display. God bless shock and awe. There was no better defense than offense. A couple men who had survived the initial barrage had been hit and shredded open, and were dragging themselves across the pavement. Painting it with their blood and innards. They didn't make it far before a few more tracer rounds from the minigun found them through the smoke. The hostile gunfire of Armacham remained died down long enough for the Black Hawk to arrive, it slowed as it approached, getting up over top of the LZ and remaining there, a good distance above. Tilted at an angle that would allow Thomas a good field of fire of every doorway. Hughes looked back from his seat and gave them the thumbs up. The green light to engage the enemy.
"This is our stop people! We're in position, Captain! Move! Move! Move!"
"Lets go fuck shit up, Sergeant."
In tandem, Raynes and the Sergeant dropped down over their respective sides on the Black Hawk, the black cord sending them down in a hurry and gradually slowing their descent. Tracers whizzed by him, but he had no time to worry about that. The shadow of death around them. The second Raynes' boots touched the pavement, acting on instinct, he unclipped himself from the cord and rose his RPL, opening fire on the closest enemy position. A pair of security guards tried to return fire on him, but he put them both down with a couple bursts of his submachine gun. Shredding through their kevlar and tearing through their flesh. The hit the ground, before they knew what hit them. Above, more tracers began to fire, courtesy of Thomas on his minigun, and the rookie, who had moved over to Raynes side of the helicopter and was covering him from above with his assault rifle. While Raynes and the rookie cleared their side of the LZ, the Captain heard the Sergeant open up at ground level with his own minigun in both hands. Him and Thomas were clearing off the stairs and walkway up to the tower. Sweeping it clean... in a manner of speaking at least. Tearing through the different defensive formations the security forces had taken up.
Raynes glanced up for a split second, watching the steady rain of hot, smoking minigun shells spilling out of the Black Hawk, landing with a clatter against the pavement close to him. Raynes felt a sharp bee sting slam against the chest of his D-12 Medium Armor and grimaced, turning in the direction it had come from. One of the bastards had shot him with a pistol. Rewarding him for allowing his concentration to be momentarily broken. Could have taken his head off... Raynes wouldn't let the goon's fatal mistake slide. Raynes moved forward, but kept low, shooting the security guard's legs out from under him, and putting a burst through his screaming head. Brains, blood and bone sprayed all over the pavement. His heart throbbed inside his head, and he focused on the concentrated flame of his anger that the pain induced. It granted him clarity. He walked among the bodies, finishing off downed and wounded Armacham thugs and picking off security trying to flank the Sergeant while he and Thomas dealt with the bulk of the problem. The rookie continued to assist him, covering his ass while he covered the Sergeant's.
The Captain alternated between aiming at the two doors on the roof that descended down into the complex. Shooting down everyone he saw trying to run through the door, or fire from around the corner of it. He shot down one Riot Security Guard that had been camping there, and from the angle saw him topple back down the stairs out of sight. Most firefights were over in a hurry... but in the moment, it seemed to last forever. This one was no exception. It was a step into hell... and damn if it wasn't where he worked well. Raynes took cover behind some crates in the landing zone and reloaded his RPL when it went dry, popping out the magazine and jamming another in. Most of the landing zone had been taken, but there was still the matter of reinforcements streaming out from different sections. Peering through the red holographic sights and watching the bottom doors of the area, while the others focused above. Raynes, in his defensive position, kept aiming and firing burst, reloading periodically... until there was nothing left to shoot at.
By the time the roar of gunfire stopped, and the dust settled, the landing zone was a fucking mess. Bodies and detached limbs everywhere, spent brass from various weapons, most of it belonging to the miniguns. A battlefield little different from the many he'd partaken in before. Above and in his comlink, Raynes heard the rookie crowing victoriously over the sound of the Black Hawk's engines.
"That's what I call a turkey shoot!"
Raynes watched from his position as the Sergeant moved ahead, over to the base of the stairwell leading into the tower. He peered up it, glancing at every door, listening for any more hostiles. Turning back he gave Raynes the thumbs up, and turned forward again, raising his minigun and going back on guard duty. For the moment, they were in the clear. If Raynes had to guess, there were plenty more rent-a-cops down in the complex and up in the tower... but even how well paid they were wasn't enough to make them completely suicidal. No doubt they would dig themselves in and wait, force the team to go inside and uproot them. Nothing was ever simple... but he supposed it could have gone far worse. And might yet.
"Don't get cocky, rookie. Hughes, the LZ is clear. You can bring her down now."
"Glad to hear it, I was starting to get worried."
Raynes detected the sarcasm as he glanced back down at the corpse filled landing pad. Trace of a smirk forming. The Captain held his position, looking up and watching as the Black Hawk moved closer over the landing pad again, and began its slow descent. Steadily, carefully lowering down and touching the landing pad and coming to a stop. The rookie was out of the chopper at once, pacing the perimeter of the LZ with his assault rifle, looking among the ruins. At the same time, Hughes turned off the engine, the top and back rotors gradually slowing down in their revolutions, and stopping altogether. Raynes stood at last from where he knelt, walking over closer to the Black Hawk, but keeping a good view of the landing pad's rooftop doors all the while, glancing between the Deltas and the Sergeant.
"Good work, people. Might have been expecting us, but they didn't know what hit em'. You weren't half bad, rookie. And good job on the turret as usual, Thomas. You make door gunning an art form."
The veteran, Thomas, nodded with a trace of a smirk, remaining where he was in his seat, minigun still moving side to side, scanning every door carefully for reinforcements. Behind his bulletproof glass, the pilot Hughes gave him a thumbs up as well, before returning to studying his monitors and datapad, consulting with his co pilot, running a systems diagnostics check. Operator Thomas patted the trusty minigun appreciatively.
"If you're going to lead em', always do it right, sir."
Raynes returned his smirk, and stepped in front of the helicopter, getting a better view of the devastation, all the bodies and mess around the LZ. Big concrete chunks of the pavement had been torn out in the gun battle... especially courtesy of the miniguns. Raynes checked his watch... an instinctive gesture, remembering that it had stopped working since the blast. Frozen in place during the early hours of the morning. His clock on his datapad wasn't working either... nor any clock he had seen along the way through Fairport. All of them were intact... but time simply refused to tick. He knew there was no earthly, natural reason at play causing it, just as unnatural as the sudden absence of thousands of civilians who had populated the city before the blast. Anyways, he was sure the whole thing had only taken a few minutes, when all was said and done. But damned if it hadn't felt like another lifetime, the way every battle did. The rookie walked over to Raynes side, speaking up again curiously.
"Well, we made it so far. What now, Captain?"
Raynes glanced back and appraised the rookie for a moment, considering it. Considering all the bodies, and looking back at the Black Hawk. No way that had been all their forces. As effective as the first strike had been, they were now a sitting target on the roof. They needed to simultaneously venture into the tower, redirect the satellite and hold down the roof of the complex, that meant splitting the team. Putting his best suited, most capable military asset on the most difficult task. He looked back over to the Sergeant, who remained where he was, looking back at Raynes and the Black Hawk, holding down the perimeter. Raynes despised having to put the bulk of the work on to one man. It wasn't right in any team. But he knew the dirty necessity of delegating in leadership. Someone had to hang back back and keep the LZ secure, and their ride intact. The only excuse he had was the fact the quiet Sergeant was some kind of a super soldier who had handled far worse. No way they'd have gotten this far without him... the Captain would have to rely on his extensive combat expertise further, as much as he wished he didn't have to. He had to be realistic about the situation, regardless of his personal opinion. Jaw tightening, he issued the order.
"Sergeant, you take the tower. The control centre is only a level or two up. Clean it out and send me the all clear when you get to the relay room. I'll walk you through the uplink process from here. We'll cover you down here, keep any reinforcements from trying to come in behind you. Wouldn't want to get in the way of you and that minigun in tight office space corridors anyways."
The Sergeant merely smirked a little at that, nodding back in grim understanding. Never any complaints, no matter the command or objective. Raynes remembered him alone covering them from the merc bastards back at the Armacham Data and Research Center while they had evacuated Passalaqua and his injured team. He doubted the Sergeant had even required the automated turret he had made use of against the Nightcrawlers to do so. Wasting no time, he turned on his boot, carrying his minigun up over the bullet torn metal stairs and ascending up to the body covered balcony. Reaching it, he moved to the side of the open doors, leaning and peeking around the corner and looked through the doors. Deeming the interior all clear, he strode inside and disappeared, boots crunching on glass. Not looking back once. Raynes looked back away from the balcony and caught the disbelief reflected in the watching rookie's clear goggles in time.
"One guy is gonna take that tower? Bullshit. Minigun or not, he's going to his death. God knows how many men are in there waiting for him, ambushes prepared. It's suicide, Captain."
Raynes let out a low, bitter laugh at that... remembering all too well what he had seen the Sergeant accomplish. Tearing through units of Replica and ATC alike. Hunting the Nightcrawlers. Surviving supernatural horrors. Fighting his way out of the Replica's best that had tried preventing them from leaving the Perseus Compound. The inhuman speed he could move at, when pressed. His immense physical strength. Truth be told, he pitied the rent-a-cops cowering inside already.
"Before he transferred to my unit, I'd have believed you, rookie. Now I know better. Seen enough. He'll be fine."
As if on cue, everyone on the roof heard the echoing rapports of gunfire form inside the building, all eyes turning to the tower. Muffled shouts and agonized screams of men. And over top of it, the roar of the Sergeant's minigun as he got to work. Locating and removing the hiding hostiles. The rookie looked over at the Captain with confusion, giving him a searching look. Then the Delta Force operator merely shrugged his armored shoulders, turning away and pacing around the landing pad again. Studying the remains of the bodies. He began to crouch over some of them, searching their bodies for supplies, opening pouches and rummaging through them. Speaking as he did so.
"As long as it's not my ass on the line going in there alone. You won't hear me complaining. Let's see what these assholes had on them. Won't be needing it anymore."
The gunfire and shouts emanating from the tower cut in and out at random intervals. In his minds eye, Raynes could see the Sergeant moving from floor to floor, tearing apart every defensive position they were held up in. Moving faster than any ordinary man could. There was sudden silence then for about a minute. Then, somewhere above, a window exploded, causing Raynes and the rookie to look up sharply. One of the upper levels, near the top of the tower. An black and blue figure in riot armor fell screaming and flailing from stories above. Raynes knelt down, covering his neck and ducking low, hiding his face as the shower of glass shards rained down on the LZ, striking loudly against the Black Hawk. In the chaos, Raynes didn't see the security guard impact with the pavement... but he heard the sickening cracking sound. And the screams falling silent in an instant.
"Fuck!"
Raynes looked up at the sound of the rookie's cursing, who was also rising back up to his feet. He followed the rookie's gaze to the twisted, twitching, unrecognizable heap that had been a man, broken in every which way at the bottom of the stairs down to the landing pad. In unison, the two of them peered up at the broken window on the upper level where the man had come from. A familiar white and dark grey armored man stood at the edge, peering out over the side down at them, minigun down in one hand. Raynes could make out the faint satisfaction in the Sergeant's features, even at the distance.
"Nice shot! But be careful with those windows and flying bodies up there, Sergeant!", The Captain shouted up at him, voice echoing through the night. "We're still down here, remember?"
From above, the Captain saw the Sergeant's snap a salute of confirmation, retreating back inside the tower out of sight. Continuing his mission. Within no time at all, more shouting and gunfire emanated from the building. Raynes took up his post again, watching both sides of the doors... but as the minutes passed, still no reinforcements came. If anyone was down in the complex, they had either fled or were dug in as firmly as the men in the tower. In no hurry to come up and take a peek. Would have to be rooted out. Again he regretted having to send in the Sergeant alone, even if it was easy for the operative. He'd not known for sure if reinforcements would show up, and the chances looked increasingly remote. The gunfire above had been silent for several minutes, before Raynes' comlink activated, and a familiar but scarcely heard voice spoke in his ear.
"All clear, Captain."
The Sergeant had cleaned out the tower and took the control room, in little time at all. Performing an objective that probably would have taken a team of men a lot longer to do. Just as Raynes had expected he would. Yet again he found himself indebted to Betters choice in recruits. F.E.A.R. needed to start opening more positions for men like the Sergeant. Raynes merely gave the startled rookie a glance and an amused, knowing look. The rookie rolled his eyes and got back to what he was doing. Removing his datapad from its pouch, Raynes started it up, activated his comlink, and spoke into it again.
"You work fast, Sergeant. Good work. Plug your datapad's feed into the system mainframe, let me take a look."
"On it, sir."
Raynes waited a few moments longer, and sure enough the feed was connected, giving him remote access to the tower's computer systems and databanks. He got to work right away while the Sergeant maintained the connection, and the Deltas covered Raynes. He sifted through the data files relating to ATC's satellite networks... and various transmissions from it within the past couple days. Since this had all started. What he found was pretty eye opening... though not entirely unexpected. Eventually, he spoke into the comlink again, to the Sergeant and the D-Boys absently as he scanned through the data texts, summarizing for the others.
"Huh. Interesting. From what I can gather, those clever bastards at ATC were watching us all along. F.E.A.R., Delta Force. The entire operation. The same mysterious Senator behind the Nightcrawlers was communicating with Armacham's President. They were in cahoots, for quite awhile probably. Then she reopened the Vault, despite the Senator's own objections. After Paxton Fettel and the Replicas went rogue, we were sent in to clean up the mess. No coincidence. Same with how easy it was for them to hound and intercept us through the night. No wonder the rent-a-cops were able to assassinate Aldus Bishop when they did. They had access to all our comlinks, positions and channels through the Hannibal-3 satellite... at least until the blast. It cut off their link to the outside as well. Put them on a more even playing field. But if that's the case, how the hell did ATC know we were coming here?"
Nobody answered, knowing full well he was thinking aloud as much as telling them. He chewed it over... he had a theory, but nothing concrete yet. The Nightcrawlers probably possessed the ability to hack and decrypt their short range comlinks... but they would be gone by now, left Fairport with their Commander killed, their mission failed, besides the lone sample they had managed to claim before the explosion, the Source, belonging to Fettel. They hadn't been able to intercept it in time, in the chaos. That by itself was troubling... but at the very least, they hadn't made off with the even more dangerous progenitor of the Source as well... Alma's genetic material... the Sergeant had seen to that personally. The Sergeant had managed to tear through their ranks, despite how capable the mercs had been... especially their Commander and his best men.
Raynes would worry about it later. Order could not be restored in Fairport until several things happened. The survivors were located and evacuated to safety. ATC and Replica forces were located and dealt with, and the military moved into Fairport en mass. They couldn't hope to accomplish any of those goals in this mess without access to the outside, eyes and ears operating overhead. Without that military coordination, they were running blind in a warzone and city of supernatural insanity, and it equated to a suicide mission. An alternative had to be pursued. And one had thankfully come to mind.
"I have an idea, Sergeant. Pray to God it works. Tune the transmitter to the USAF's USA-243. Repeat, tune the transmitter to the USAF's USA-243. If you get the green light, activate it."
Raynes watched with bated breath on the datapad as the Sergeant carefully carried out his orders, typing in the classification to the system. When it registered a possible open connection link, Raynes let out a low relieved breath. The Sergeant activated the confirmation. He looked back up from his datapad to the dish at the top of the tower... as slowly it began to respond, automatically turning around and aiming up elsewhere. Aligning with the proper military satellite and locking in, a red light activating at its tip. If it worked, the military could detect and override the Hannibal-3 Satellite again... and in the process change the codes. Shut out the watchful Armacham eyes and keep them from opening again on their units. It was a bit of a long shot, but there was a chance it could be used to bring F.E.A.R. And Delta Force's long range communications back online. The USA-243 satellite only had a couple or so years left of service in it before it burned up in the atmosphere, but that was more than enough time to get control of the situation. And it would help tip off the powers that be there was still a surviving military presence in Fairport.
At last, the radar stopped at the proper position... and Raynes checked his datapad to make sure. Sure enough, it was aligned perfectly, transmitting to the United States Air Force satellite in question. If it was going to work, it would take a bit of time. The ball was in the court of those outside of Fairport now. They had done all they could to make that possible. Picking up his comlink, he spoke into it again.
"Looks good from out here, Sergeant. Fine work. Time to regroup."
Raynes thought he heard a response over the line, but it was overtaken by a sudden rising static, distorting the response.
"Sergeant? Are you still there?"
The comlink was consumed with sudden static and crackling, filtering into his ear. The Sergeant's signal appeared on his datapad, with the words Incoming... *Unknown Origin*. The static just kept crackling, and no words drifted back to Raynes. He glanced up at the broken window near the top of the tower. Empty, and there were still no sounds coming from inside the building. Eyes narrowing, he tried again, ready to storm inside the tower if need be.
"Sergeant? Come in. Talk to me. What's the situation up there? Sergeant!"
Again the comlink remained full of static. Raynes looked back at the rookie, who shrugged, and gave it a minute or two. Still nothing. Looked like he'd have to head up himself and see what the hell was going on. But just as he started for the stairs, RPL at the ready, the Sergeant's disoriented voice filled the comlink again. Pausing him in his tracks where he was.
"I'm here, Captain. Just... saw her again."
For a split moment, Raynes was as confused as the rookie looked, at that. He was going to ask him what he was talking about... when he unpleasantly remembered. Not only what Chen had seen, but what the Sergeant had told him before. Everything. The very thing he had hoped like hell wouldn't pop up again. Unknown Origin. Not entirely accurate... they knew the origin better than they wished they did. It was the source that was concerning. He remembered the Sergeant telling him the strange sensation that passed over him, when she was near... or when the creatures and visions came to him. Not only did his datapad and equipment act screwy... but he heard a strange ringing, somehow both distant and near, within his skull. One that grew stronger, as the unnatural shit around him did. He didn't feel any pain from the sounds in his head or the things he saw... they seemed more of an alarm, than anything else. A warning.
"Her? The girl in the red dress, right?"
"Yes."
"What was she doing?"
"Watching me, while I tuned the relay. The lights went out for a bit. There were twitching, faceless shapes in the shadows. Some standing... others levitating. They're gone now."
He felt a chill run up his spine at those words. Something told him the Sergeant was holding back on the details of what had happened. While he was no stranger to weird shit... the girl... thing, in question took the top prize. Combat was one thing, engaging in a battle with others... the fear of war, that came with exchanges of gunfire. This was something else... a helpless coiling, creeping dread of helplessness. What the hell good were bullets against genuine supernatural forces? Against the dead? Especially one like this. Armacham or the Nightcrawlers following them was bad enough, but they paled compared to the girl. The revelation complicated things greatly. He sighed under his breath, feeling his pulse quickening, hand clenching into a fist. He forced himself to remain controlled, tone low and even as he spoke up at last.
"Fucking psionic ghosts. That's all I need right now. Better get your ass out of there before she changes her mind and stops playing around.", Raynes spoke into the comlink again, jaw tightening as he studied the darkened windows of the tower. The Sergeant was alive though, had made it, wasn't liquified like so many others had been. What was she playing at with him? She could kill them all at any time, most likely... and still she watched over them. He didn't know, but wasn't about to wait around until she decided to. "Make your way back to the LZ at once, nice and easy now. We'll meet you down below."
"On my way, Captain."
Raynes switched off the comlink, looking down at his datapad again with a grimace. He tried to focus on it, instead of the creeping chill still running along his spine. Uneasiness. He kept glancing up at the broken window, half expecting the see this 'little girl' standing up there, watching him. As she watched the Sergeant. She seemed able of appearing and being invisible at will, but one of her many talents. He wished he could write off what the Sergeant was seeing as hallucinations, but he knew better. The rookie was watching with evident confusion, had stopped looting supplies off the corpses of the security personnel, speaking up again.
"Ghosts? What are you talking about? You F.E.A.R. guys give me the creeps... between that and the goddamn Terminator up there."
Raynes determinedly ignored the rookie's question. If the bid with the satellite didn't work, he would have to come up with a new plan. Hughes was right... they couldn't get everyone out of Fairport on their own... but maybe there was a chance to air lift out a few. A whole other headache he didn't want to think about, deciding which lives merited it the most. The First F.E.A.R. Team, certainly, provided they hadn't been nuked off the face of the earth along with the Vault. They had been in Auburn the last time Raynes remembered Betters talking about them. The Point Man breaching the Vault in pursuit of Harlan and Alice Wade and to eliminate Fettel, Jin on standby with Holiday to pick him and the Wades up after. Though he had succeeded with Fettel, the explosion not so long after sure as hell didn't bode well for their chances of survival. Silently, he prayed for Jin... the losses of Chen and Jankowski had been bad enough. A moment or two after, a droplet of liquid fell on to the screen of his datapad, trickling down along it, giving the data on it a sheen. Then a few more did the same.
The Captain looked up, to the night skies... the black clouds circulating. It began to rain freely... and already he could tell the storm would be a bad one. He switched off his datapad and tucked it away... it was water resistant, but nevertheless he wasn't going to risk such a valuable tool. If his plan didn't work, it was all he had. Short range communication, coordination and the data files on it. The sooner Betters and Den Mother got back online, the better... he didn't specialize in this uncoordinated shit... but he was no stranger to improvising.
The storm clouds opened further, and within about a minute it began to pour... in another twenty seconds, him and the rookie were soaked in the cold, refreshing water, running through his hair and bouncing off the rookie's helmet. The rookie kept himself busy recovering weapons and ammunition from the dead security officers... taking them back to the Black Hawk. Waste not, want not. He certainly had the right idea there. Raynes remained where he was for another moment, before turning and walking over near the railing along the edge of the roof, looking out over Fairport at last. Most of it was intact from the blast, but there was a damn good amount of buildings destroyed or ruined by it... as well as by the fighting still ongoing in the distance. He'd bet his life the death toll was much bigger than 9/11, easily. He'd been a gullible amateur back when that had happened... after that, joining Delta Forces' Counter Terrorism Unit had been the most appealing career option possible. At least at the time... blinded by false patriotism. Sent off to the desert meatgrinder to fight the wrong enemy and die for other people's political and financial interests. Thankfully, this time, he was right where he belonged... actually fighting for his nation, on its own soil. Trying to restore order in the middle of a true Hell on earth that was going to change the country. The world, when all was said and done.
Listening carefully, he could hear the faint gunshots emanating from downtown... steady rapports... watched the occasional explosions. ATC and Replica forces engaging one another for control of the city. It was a complete mess, even from here, to put the one around him on the landing pad to shame.
Reaching into another of his pouches, he produced his pair of binoculars, peering out and getting a closer look. He watched different variations of mechs destroy one another... in certain areas the Replicas were outnumbered, but more formidable, engaged in better tactics. They had a bunch of outposts set up down there, and kill zones to funnel in ATC's forces. What bothered Raynes more than the fighting was something else he noted not for the first time, looking away from one of the battles. How empty the city was. The streets were choked with cars, certainly... but they were all abandoned. Where the fuck was everyone? There was no way an evacuation of a major city... hundreds of thousands of civilians... could have happened in a single day... and that would be even with full government, military and police mobilization. Were they hiding? In their basements, perhaps, too scared to move. Underground would be the best bet. The subways were probably choked full of people. If they were hiding, it was probably a good decision, all things considered... every exit from the city that he could see was occupied by heavily fortified ATC outposts. Heavy mechs, troops and vehicles.
Civilians, even scattered Delta units wouldn't stand a chance against both factions currently clashing. He could even glimpse squads of Armacham soldiers scouring the city block by block, going house to house, backed by automated Mech Mules... likely searching for survivors themselves. His gaze with the binoculars moved on, to the distant Fairport Harbor they had come from, not long before. The secluded Perseus Island off Fairport Harbor, containing the Perseus Compound, not long ago quite silent and still in the wake of Fettel's death and the Vault's explosion, now a hive of Replica activity again. The Elites and Heavy reinforcements they had battled their way through to escape having already fully set up shop, the docks and bridge occupied. It wasn't the only island off Fairport owned by Armacham... his binoculars moved on from the docks and out to sea, towards a somewhat bigger one not too many miles away. It had an abandoned nuclear reactor on it... had been there since the 70's. Still Island, he recalled the name, connected to the mainland via the Auburn Bay bridge. Where Perseus Island was occupied by Replica troops, boats, mechs, gunships and ground vehicles, Still Island likewise had a surprisingly heavy concentration of ATC troops, powerful mechs, vehicles and helicopters around it.
The blinking blue lights of their UAV Drones were visible moving through the skies. Their troops visibly securing the bridge... setting up defenses, towers, outposts... the works. Turning the once abandoned Armacham owned island into a veritable fortress.
It had been abandoned for decades... what the hell was ATC's sudden interest in the place? Persus Island had been of far more importance to the company. Maybe their commander was set up out there. Managing the troops. It would be a good strategic location, in light of losing Perseus Island. Assaulting it would be hell, even for the Replica Forces. Something was going on there that was more vital to the ATC than even the old cloning facility. They hadn't dispatched any of their troops to try to retake the Perseus Compound... it had been left to the Nightcrawlers and Replica. At least for now. God knew how many clean up operations ATC was running simultaneously, no sense striking possibly the strongest Replica foothold at present. Still, he had the feeling there was more than that... there was more to it all than the ATC covering its own ass. Nothing good. A metal door creaked, and heavy footsteps tapped on the tower balcony, behind the Black Hawk, and Raynes withdrew from his binoculars. Glanced back over his shoulder. The Sergeant strode down the bullet torn metal stairs of the radar tower, minigun in one hand, his other gripping the railing as he descended down to the pavement of the helipad.
The Sergeant was covered in blood stains... but none of it were his own. The fierce downpour was already washing it off his battle scarred white D-12 Medium Armor. He looked quite at ease with himself, as if he hadn't just machine gunned his way through a building full of security forces. Faced whatever supernatural force he had encountered up there. To him, it was just another mission. Reaching the Black Hawk's open door, he dropped the minigun heavily inside the cargo compartment for the moment, then circled around, making his way over the roof, walking among the bodies and spent shell casings. Glancing at them, and to the rookie, who was staring at him. Although he wore a balaclava, Raynes knew the kid's jaw was open. The Sergeant passed the rookie and made his way over towards the railing Raynes stood at, boots splattering through the mixing puddles of rain and blood.
The Sergeant reached into one of his pouches on the way over, produced a cylindrical green object and threw it Raynes way. The Captain's gloved hand snapped up, catching it in the air and bringing it down. A can of soda, with the name Diet Zapp Burst written on it. He glanced up. The Sergeant had pulled out another can, albeit a red one, with Coldsnapp Kola written on it, and had already popped it open. Raynes chuckled under his breath appreciatively. The Sergeant even had his moments outside of combat.
"Diet Zapp Burst? Huh. Why the fuck not?"
He popped off the cap, leaned his head back and indulged himself, draining it all in one go. Releasing a low, pleased breath at the taste and rejuvenation. He'd never had one before. It wasn't a stiff drink like he would prefer, but it was pretty goddamn good. Especially now. Could start to grow on him. The Sergeant popped open his can of Coldsnapp Kola and seemed to be enjoying it, though taking his time to savour it. Raynes belched, crushed the green can and threw it over the side of the building, wiping his stubble lined mouth with his armored sleeve. It had been too long since he tasted something so good. Not since the nightmare of Fairport had started.
"Thanks, brother. Hit the spot. Beats that Fizzy Kola and Diet Squish shit they have lying around everywhere. Hope you grabbed a few more for whatever is next. You did good in there."
"What I'm here for, sir."
The Sergeant nodded appreciatively... but seemed to withdraw again inside himself. Steely grey eyes growing distant, a familiar look he often wore. Looking out over the railing, water trailing down his dark hair and over his rough features. Looking as if he were seeing something more than the ruined city below. Raynes watched him for a moment, wondering what exactly he had seen up there. He was tempted to ask more about the girl... about the otherworldly force he saw... but thought better of it. Whatever it was, he didn't envy the man. The rookie's voice spoke on his other side instead, having come up to join them.
"How long are we going to wait on a response, Captain Raynes?"
"Until I say so. The uplink has been reestablished on this end. They're probably figuring shit out just now. In the meantime, come over here and enjoy the view, rookie."
Raynes handed off his binoculars to the rookie when he reached the railing. The young man took the time to raise them, peering out carefully over the city. Focusing on downtown area. Speaking up again incredulously as he took in the sights.
"The view? I see a bunch of psychic super soldier clones battling fucking Weyland Yutani. What's so good about that, sir?"
"Our enemies are killing each other, for starters. Instead of us. Every one of them that dies makes our job here a little easier. Always look on the bright side, son."
That seemed to get through to him. The rookie laughed a bit under his breath, glancing up from the binoculars at him and the Sergeant. Retreating back behind them to get a better look at downtown.
"Fair enough, man. Not sure who to root for. Those Replica are kicking ass and taking names though."
"As they were designed to.", The Sergeant spoke up quietly... eyes remaining distant as the rookie looked up at him again for a moment. For his part, the Sergeant didn't meet his gaze, remaining steadfast in observing the ruined, rain soaked city. "I saw their assembly line myself. The cloning facility beneath the Perseus Compound. Saw all the piles of bodies belonging to the Armacham scientists and security, after Fettel's uprising. The older bodies as well, probably Armacham's doing. Smelled worse than any sewer."
The rookie didn't seem to know what to make of his grim words, looking perturbed... instead he quickly returned to the binoculars. Raynes looked away from the battle the rookie seemed swept up in. He peered out over as much of the devastated city as he could see. They were going to have their hands full, not only the fighting, but searching for survivors. Where the hell could they possibly start? There were too many options, none of them ideal. Shaking his head slowly. Thinking aloud under his breath.
"Christ. I'll take the Amarillo spooks or the psychotic bums and cultists of Metro City again over this Fairport shit any day. We're gonna be here awhile, gentlemen. Best get used to this nightmare."
"Nowhere I'd rather be, sir."
Raynes stood out in the rain with them for a time. It was good to have a moment's respite, even if it was one while they stood surrounded by bodies, overlooking a war torn ghost city. Or especially because of that. Thomas remained on guard duty at his minigun, in case there was anyone left below who got any bright ideas. Fortunately, his minigun didn't fire. It came then, somewhere out in the distance... a low, powerful rumble of an engine in the skies. Raynes wasn't going to look, assuming it was more of the ATC and Replica's vehicles engaging one another... but the engine kept getting stronger. Looking back out over the railing with the others, he squinted his eyes a bit, trying to get a better look into the storm clouds it was emanating from. He saw it then, cutting through the clouds, passing high over the city, and fast approaching. The rookie rose the binoculars to get a better look as well.
"The fuck...? Is that a C-130? What's it doing here? Isn't that Tomcat's ride?"
Raynes took back the binoculars firmly from the startled rookie, raising them again and adjusting them, focusing in on the plane. Sure enough, it was Lockheed C-130 Hercules alright. He followed it along as it cut through the night. A stream of thoughts flashed through Raynes mind, considering all the possibilities. Narrowing them down.
"Doubt it. Betters was far outside Fairport, last we talked to him. Doesn't have his plane's markings, any of ATC's or the Replica either. Probably special forces. They were only going to wait so long while the politicians try to get their heads out of their asses. Or Armacham's asses. Took em' long enough."
"Hell yeah! About fucking time! It's probably going to land at Port Authority Airport to pick up the other Deltas and civilians, Captain. While ATC and the Replicas slaughter each other. Do our job for us. Maybe we can get out of here early after all, if the cavalry is already showing up."
"Don't count your chickens, rookie. Looks more like...-"
An arcing bolt of blue light cut across the sky like God's wrath, then, colliding into the front of the plane. Arcing across a black cloud. There was the powerful hammering of a thunderclap on its heels that Raynes felt in his bones, and in an instant the nose of the plane had gone up on flames... overtaking the cockpit, flames flying off on each side it like a new pair of wings. Raynes started where he was, snapping back from the rain soaked binoculars to get a full view for a moment. The C-130's course altered, and it began to turn to the side, keeping up its speed and balance. Rising a little, even. Emergency lights on the plane began to flash, and Raynes rose his binoculars again... watching as the cargo bay door opened up, and figures began to jump off the plane. Soldiers... paratroopers. Between the night sky, their speed and the rain, Raynes couldn't make out their appearances... but there were nine of them in all, by his count. After they pulled their chutes, he quickly lost track of them behind some of the tall buildings and skyscrapers.
The Captain drew back from the binoculars, just in time to watch numbly as the flaming hulk of the C-130 plowed directly into one such skyscraper. A tower, that had been dominating the more upper class section of the city it had presided over. In a bright explosion to rival the lightning, the tower began to fall apart and collapse altogether. Amid another thunderclap of noise, it rained fire, debris and rubble on entire blocks of the city. In moments, surrounding neighborhoods were already aflame and on their way to burning to the ground, a great cloud of smoke pouring off the spot the tower had once stood and encompassing said neighborhoods in a tidal wave. The fighting between the Replica and Armacham out there quickly stopped altogether, in the aftermath of the explosion, for the moment. Both sides undoubtedly scrambling for the safety of cover.
"Holy fuck!", Exclaimed the rookie, backing away from the railing. He couldn't take his eyes off the bonfire, the devastation, but he spoke up to the pilot, from where he was watching in the cockpit. "Did you see that shit, Hughes?"
"Unfortunately. Never thought I'd be glad to be flying a Black Hawk out here. Anything harder than soft drinks in those vending machines, Sergeant?"
"Unfortunately not."
"Could have sworn I saw guys jumping out the back, or maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me."
"No. They weren't."
"You think anyone made it, Captain?"
Raynes ignored the rookie and checked his datapad, pulling up a map of the city, covering the screen slightly with a glove to ward off the rain. Turning around he walked away from where they stood by the railing. Moving back over to the Black Hawk, he took a seat on the side of it, getting out of the downpour for a moment. The Sergeant remained where he was a bit longer, before stepping over closer to the railing... still finishing up his drink as he watched the distant raging inferno, and the remains of the tower steadily collapsing. Destroying all the property around it. Looked like the Captain had better put in the first call to Betters after all... for all Raynes knew he was passed out. God knew how many hours the Commissioner had been up waiting for word. But the crash was a good enough wake up call for him to take the initiative. He triangulated their current position on the roof of the Armacham Relay Tower, checking the datapad's map, as well as the flight path of the C-130.
It had been passing over the ruined section of Auburn... but the moment the blue bolt of lightning had struck the front, its course had redirected. Sending it clear over the devastation, closer towards downtown... and into what was sure enough a fancier neighborhood in Fairport. The tower it had crashed into, according to the map, was... or had been called Valkyrie Tower. 15535 SE Broadway, Auburn. He consulted some files on the place, in F.E.A.R.'s databanks. It was... had been, a residential condo for a number of higher ranking ATC employees and city politicians. With the President of Armacham herself living in the penthouse right at the top of it. He paused for a moment... staring blankly at the map, and then up in the distance to the towering inferno climbing into the night skies by now. Undoubtedly visible far beyond the city.
In spite of himself, unable to help it, the Captain laughed out loud, drawing bewildered looks from the rookie, pilots and door gunner. Regardless, Raynes didn't care in the slightest how it appeared in that moment. The Sergeant glanced back over his shoulder at the Captain with a thin smile... and somehow, Raynes was sure that he already knew. Had seen the truth in his psionic visions.
Mother nature and karma were a bitch with a real nasty sense of humour, it seemed. Or at least, he had the feeling someone out there was. There was nothing quite like poetic justice... even now. He watched the storm clouds, the blue lightning flashed again up there intensely, followed by another rumble of mighty thunder. The storm steadily picking up ever further. Maybe it was a natural thought... or maybe she was influencing him, as she seemed to be everything and everyone of late. He could feel Alma's unending fury, burning and coursing with the ruins of the tower. Boiling and gathering up in the clouds. Had felt it the instant the lightning had struck. It still wasn't good enough. She wasn't satisfied. As if on cue, the firefights between the Replica and Armacham recommenced out there, further explosions flaring in the smoke, tracers flying back through it from either side.
When his laughter had finally subsided, watching the twisted remnants of Valkyrie Tower collapse, Raynes activated his comlink, and attempted to make contact with the outside world again. To find someone, anyone, still out there. Reach beyond this nightmare world spawned from another's dark, fevered, seemingly all powerful mind.
Maybe they could still wake up from it all... or at least find those who could yet pull them out of it.
Ah. Loved writing Captain Raynes. And a big welcome back for the Second F.E.A.R. Team was long overdue. Curse Monolith for trying to decanonize Perseus Mandate. Onward and upwards we go.