Clipped Wings
A Clover fanfiction written by: RinoaDestiny
Chapter 6
What had been discussed and planned in accordance with their official briefing collided roughly with reality, for the government here hadn't been idle. While it wasn't the scenario of the general and his troops already being in position, their scouting and temporary base camp quickly switched into preparing for an offensive. Hunkering down below his actual position, 284 sighted the incoming hostiles through his scope and took a deep breath.
"284, what do you see?"
"Not the general, sir. Estimating two squads. Don't see air support."
"You're closer to the narrower bottleneck, so be careful. Get into position higher up when you can."
"Yes, sir."
From where he now lay on his stomach, rifle in hand, he had a good view of the half-established base camp. Two tents were up, but the others had been promptly abandoned or stuffed back into their packs upon the scouts' return and reports. Currently, three gunners were situated around the valley under cover and the other soldiers were also in position, waiting. Tetsu, being communications, relayed everything to the captain, including his reports. His vantage point was critical and became more so the higher he went.
It was the waiting that was difficult. It always was.
284 counted the enemy forces, looking for the general. Three squads – twelve men each – possibly a mix of black ops and regular infantry. Was the general in disguise? The captain himself was indistinguishable, unless one knew the differences in Azaiean insignia. Barus – a shudder there – had his particular uniform, standing out from his soldiers. In his former life, he and Ryuu both also made their ranks clear.
"Everyone stay alert. I believe the general may be delaying his entry."
Thirty-six soldiers versus thirteen. Outnumbered, although the terrain could be used in their favor. Ambush tactics worked in whittling down larger numbers.
"Tetsu…this is 284. Tell the captain I'm going to start getting into position."
Silence for a few seconds. Then, Tetsu's voice answered via his earpiece. "Get into position. I'll let the captain know."
It was the best he could do; he had to trust Tetsu to do his job. Not responding, 284 arched his head upward, studying the structure built into the cliff face. It was a solid building with wooden steps leading towards the pinnacle. There were also levels, each with wraparound balconies. Judging by the distance out in the open and here, he needed to reach the third floor and bide his time on its balcony.
Swinging his rifle onto his back, he reached for the first overhanging wooden step and hoisted himself up. His body, sufficiently recovered from Barus's abuse, was wiry and lean, capable of certain physical feats still. A second step and then he was on his way, keeping low. If any of the enemy soldiers spotted movement on the cliff face, Azaiea would lose its advantage. As humiliating as his current life was, being shot down due to carelessness and costing allied lives below was the last thing he wanted to do or be remembered for.
He had been a commander before. Continued to bear the consequences of his last failure.
"284," the captain's voice said, punching through his thoughts. "State your current position."
"On the second floor, sir. Heading for the third."
"The general has been sighted. He's towards the back. Does he suspect, you think?"
"Be careful, sir. He may have a trap as well." The inside of the building was cool and dim, dust motes visible where thin light fell. "I'll be in position soon." His boot soles made sharp sounds against the concrete floor. Steel reinforcements here and there, firmly affixing the building to the natural cliff face. He reached the third floor landing and swiftly moved towards the balcony.
What was the purpose of this building? An abandoned rich man's home? An experiment by an ambitious architect? Whatever it was, it was the perfect sniper nest with quite the view below.
Looking above and over for sunlight and seeing none, he swung his rifle off his back, removed the scope's cap, and positioned himself on the balcony. Got a good view of the battlefield below, the gunners not yet engaged. The two tents remained standing, rippling slightly in the breeze passing through the valley. The captain wasn't in those – too obvious and dangerous. Instead, the man was with his artillery specialist, hidden from view.
Thirteen against thirty-six. How to turn the odds in their favor?
From the Azaiean camp, he switched to observing the approaching enemy. Three squads, but no longer in formation. Some had disappeared, possibly taking cover in the environment and awaiting orders. Their captains were gone, too, tactics similar to the Azaieans. That left the general, whose delay and entrance as last was suspicious for a man known for arrogance and glory-seeking.
No ambush by the captain yet. Perhaps the time wasn't right?
Then, 284 saw the general. Instead of being dressed in field uniform, the better to remain inconspicuous, the man gleamed with medals. From this distance – not close enough to guarantee an accurate shot – the general seemed older. Accompanying him were two soldiers armed with rifles and laser-deflecting shields. Precautions or was this general more savvy than he'd assumed?
"284! Watch your position!"
Startled by the captain's urgent tone, he drew back and glanced down the steep drop over the balcony. "Sir?"
"Be careful! They know –"
"Sir!"
As abrupt as the captain's voice cutting off was the valley below erupting into battle. Laser fire in the air, the boom of active artillery, actual controlled flames forming manmade bottlenecks. From where he stood, everything before and below was chaos and violence, smoke and overwhelming noise. It was unclear where the Azaieans were and where their enemies were in the confusion.
Despite the captain's warning, he got back into shooting position and looked for the general. Kill the leader and the remaining soldiers would either flee or put up a last stand. Very rarely did the latter occur, unless contingencies were planned. Black ops units, specially trained, would fulfill objectives unless unable to do so. He was the secret tucked in Azaiea's sleeve, hidden away here for one purpose only.
If he failed, the Azaieans would die or be captured – himself, included. Even though they weren't his people, he couldn't let that happen. He knew what it was like, the aftermath.
Not again.
Through the scope, he searched for gleaming metal, for the general's guards. Saw lasers cut through smoke, bright and lethal. Sound followed later, artificial amongst distant screams. Fire here and there, obscuring his line of sight. Was their captain still standing, still alive?
Where were the divisions between the forces?
A sensation over the back of his neck, an instant chill. Without glancing over his shoulder, 284 brought his rifle back around and dropped into a crouch, moving away from the edge. Rapid footsteps, one inside and below and one outside. Laser fire struck the balcony, destroying part of the railing. He'd been discovered and they'd kill him, knowing his role in the Azaiean assault.
A lone sniper isolated from the main force. Easy pickings.
Sneaking inside, he hid in the shadows and straightened. Mentally imaged his sword, the weapon appearing from thin air into his left hand. There was no sheath. Footsteps pounding up the stairs, hitting the landing and he inhaled, focusing. Blade tip pointed down, concealing the gleam of steel. He hadn't fought with or used his sword since that day.
An enemy soldier stepped inside, face drawn and observant. In his right hand was a knife, the serrated blade black. With cautious steps, the other man advanced, studying the interior. As the soldier walked past his hiding spot, he noticed the length of cord wrapped around the man's left forearm; it was attached to his sleeve and thick. Strangler's cord, tough but not indestructible.
"Know you're here, you Azaiean bastard," the soldier said, tone heavy with menace. "Gonna gut you and hang you outside for the others to see."
He had to get back to the balcony, to complete his task. That was why he was here. Stepping away from his shadowed corner, he snuck behind the soldier, drawing his sword back to stab. The man turned, however, and 284 swiftly backpedaled, avoiding the slashing knife aimed at his throat. Up went his sword, the blade angled to catch the other's midair.
"There you are." The soldier – a captain from his insignia – advanced, a savage grin on his scarred face. "Don't count on anybody helping ya."
A second enemy outside, armed with a laser rifle. Two against one.
He didn't say anything.
His right being open without defense, the enemy captain pressed hard there. Knife blow against his sword edge, again and again, as he parried each one. Static in his earpiece, words garbled. He swung the fight around, trying to reposition himself closer to the balcony. On his back, the sniper rifle was a weight, a reminder of what had to be done. Block, deflect, parry –
Pain slashing through his right sleeve, blood wet down his arm and fingertips.
No words from the other man, just cold satisfaction in his face.
284 ignored the sensation and shifted, getting closer to the center of the interior. Light faint around them, falling through small crevices. The captain lashed out again, but this time with the cord. It snapped around his sword and the other man yanked, threatening to disarm him. Pulling back and up, fighting for control, 284 severed their connection, stumbling back. He barely blocked the following blows in time, receiving a slicing wound across his knuckles.
Words exploded in his ear, frantic and loud. "284, we're guiding the…closer to your location! Hurry!"
The battle raging outside, while his own fight happened here. He had to end this now.
Even as the enemy captain lunged forward, seeing his moment of distraction, 284 sidestepped. In the same motion, he turned his sword, bringing the hilt hard against the other's throat. Applying pressure, gripping the hilt end and guard, he crushed the other's windpipe. Blood dripped off his hands, slippery and warm. Even as the captain went limp, 284 released him and ran back to the balcony.
No time to look for the second man, wherever he was.
Rifle against his shoulder, he looked through the scope again. Glimpsed the driving Azaiean forces, steering his target closer in his direction. Tetsu's voice cut in and out, punctuated by violent thuds in the background. Smoke thinning and while the Azaiean numbers had been reduced, their captain lived. There! Flashing sunlight, medals gleaming.
Lining up his shot, he fired.
The soldier next to the general flung out his shield, but it was too late. Dead center, the laser beam struck, his target collapsing. As quickly, 284 stowed his rifle and grabbed the sword he'd dropped, throwing himself backwards. A retaliatory laser beam zipped by, right where he'd been standing, followed by several others. Shouts below, footfalls beneath him and it was far from over. More voices fading in and out of his earpiece – Tetsu's exclamation of "Goddamn time!" audible – and as he rushed inside, seeking escape, he tried not to think about reinforcements. If no one came to help, he'd do what he could against the general's vengeful soldiers.
If worst came to worst…
He passed the enemy captain's corpse, heading for the landing and met the awaiting second man there. He, too, was a captain. Instead of the rifle, silvery monofilament wire sped towards him. Instinctively, 284 broke right and ducked; the wire missed him by a hairsbreadth. Already, his slashed knuckles were stiffening and his right sleeve sodden red.
Like him, the other man didn't speak. Simply acted.
Whipping around, the wire sought him again. Having no choice, he hurtled towards the captain, sword swung back to kill. No fear on the other man's face, even as his posture changed slightly. No sound, no warning – sharp agony in his shoulder, a quick numbness, and before 284 let go of his sword, he decapitated the second captain. Blood sprayed the surrounding wall and landing crimson. His sword clattered to the floor as the other's head rolled down the stairs.
It landed with a sickening thud on the second floor's landing.
284 leaned against the wall, right hand rising to clasp his left shoulder. A chunk of flesh and bone was gone, numbness spreading fast. His arm was sticky was blood, left sleeve turning red. Blood loss and a lot this time; lightheaded, he remained where he was. Regeneration took time, which he didn't have. Already, he heard voices below. If he stayed here, he'd die.
He could use his right hand, though it wasn't his dominant.
Wearily pushing off the wall, he retrieved his sword. With both arms injured, his ability to fight had been significantly handicapped. Still, the squad continued battling outside and enemies approached. No time to be idle, even with the general dead. Grimacing as he moved, 284 descended to the second landing, avoiding the head lying in a puddle of blood.
It could've been him, if the wire had been aimed for his head instead of his shoulder. Some luck, not likely to last.
He entered the second floor's interior, moving quickly, anticipating another fight. There were voices, but some were familiar: the Azaiean captain and a few others. Sounds of scuffling and battle on the first floor and then, someone entered through the only exit he had and stopped. No greeting – an enemy.
His left arm leaden, 284 skidded back, dodging an underhanded blow swiping at his ribs. Adrenaline overrode discomfort, heightening his senses. Angrily, the other soldier cursed and lunged again, blade dangerously close. It passed his right shoulder, the other man overextending, thrown off balance. Instead of engaging, he bolted for the exit, not looking back. Hit the landing and continued running.
Footfalls behind him, echoing the sound his boots made.
Reaching the first floor, 284 found the Azaiean captain, Kenta, Ryuto, and one other soldier he didn't know locked in close quarters combat with the remnants of the general's forces. Behind him, he heard his enemy approach and backing into the room, turned to fight. The sword in his right hand felt awkward – he'd never trained to be ambidextrous – but it didn't matter now.
Snarling, the soldier charged in, barreling towards him. Raising his sword as a barrier, 284 warily watched as he stepped back, creating distance. Behind him, an attack redoubled – someone yelled – turning into background noise as his world dwindled to only him and the enemy soldier. The other man scowled, expression ugly even as he advanced.
"Gonna make you regret what you did."
A quick glance confirmed a missing knife. Concealed? He didn't respond.
His left side was weak, an easy vulnerability. Slanting his body to guard it, he observed the soldier's hands. His sword was heavy; he dared not let go. His left hand, fingers curling slightly, was stiff and sore. He needed to use it – to draw the other into a trap – but it required great risk. He might die here, taking the enemy with him.
A shout somewhere, piercing through stillness.
Uncoiling like a loaded spring, the enemy soldier sprang at him, right arm flicking downward. Deliberately dropping his guard, 284 shifted weight, slamming his left hand against the man's chest. Even as the other's blade buried into his side, he imaged a similar blade erupting from the man's back. The soldier gaped, a second's recognition of what'd occurred, before going slack.
His own knees collapsed beneath him, as he joined the dead man on the floor.
"Gingetsu!" The Azaiean captain, voice urgent and low. "Tetsu, if the mop-up outside is done, get everyone left outside here. We need to leave before they send more people. Quickly!"
He tried to speak – thought he said, "You shouldn't call me that, sir" before everything dimmed and went black.
He awoke in an unfamiliar place, wounds stitched and bandaged. There was a strange taste in his mouth and heaviness in his head. Drugs? The place was dim, artificial light faint, and he wasn't alone. Sitting in a chair to the right of him was the captain, hands together and in his lap. Had the other man been waiting for him to awaken? How long had he been out?
"Sir," he said, voice hoarse. "Where…?"
"We had to grab everything and take flight. We're currently in safe lodgings in a country that has a treaty with Azaiea. It was rough, but the operation was successful."
"How many?"
Behind his glasses, the captain's eyes took on an expression he knew well. "We lost half. Would've lost more if we hadn't tightened our offensive and harried them back."
"Did the…" He paused, waiting for the mental fog to pass. "What happened after the general died?"
"Of what remained, most went towards you. The rest went towards Tetsu and our artillery."
"They held on."
"Yes. They did. I detailed the other three with me to rescue you."
Silence as he considered this. His vision having adjusted, 284 glanced around. The room wasn't wide, but it ran deep and the off-white walls were inoffensive. Light emitted from a table lamp placed close by, the stand plain. Above him was a window, dark curtains pulled. He laid on a cot – the captain's? – with a blanket draped over him. Near the left wall was his bag and on top of it was his sword.
A sigh of relief escaped him.
"Wasn't about to leave that behind." The captain, speaking again, looked just as relieved. "I'm glad you were able to hold your own. I'm impressed, Gingetsu."
"Sir." A memory there, before he'd lost consciousness. "You shouldn't –"
"Call you that? It's your name and it does feel strange calling you by a number. Not sure if you noticed."
His head still heavy, he shook it. "You'll do yourself harm, sir, if the others overhear. I'm 284 and deserve no name."
"I disagree, but you're injured and recovering. We can discuss another time. Go back to sleep if you have to. Everyone's on delayed return home for four days by my order. You can eat later if you feel like it."
"How long was I out?"
"We departed before noon and it's seventeen hundred hours right now."
Quite a stretch of time – how had he survived, especially with the knife injury to his side? Their medic must've lived and had supplies on hand or operated quickly to save him. Likely due to the captain's order, since he didn't believe anyone else would've cared. Not when they had scrambled to get out before the incident became known.
"You've earned your rest. I need to check on the others, but have no fear. You're under my direct protection now. You'll be safe here."
The captain's room, then. Inviolable.
"Sir."
The other man gave him a weary smile, stood, and left the room. Left him to lay still, injuries undergoing regeneration and wonder at his change of fortune. Everything else after this…he decided to not think about right now.