NightStalker92: There's not going to be much safety in this setting lol even when they get their base of operations set up. Certainly not in Fairport. The only way out of the fire will be through it. That quote will summarize the existence of the Point Man in this story, though others will do their share of heavy lifting too. Thank you kindly for the review ;) hope you continue enjoying the story.
"Well... there goes the neighborhood."
He could hear them outside amid the downpour of the rain, forming their perimeter... shouting orders, cars and vehicles pulling up... going through the expected motions. Probably surrounding his pride and joy, by now. Even for hired thugs, close to ground zero of the Auburn District's blast, amid all the chaos, they knew what they were doing. He watched them down in the streets... their security cars and armored trucks pulling up. Armored figures in blue and black milling about... full riot armor, from the looks of it. Armed as well as an actual military force. The blue arcs of lightning flashed again outside in the skies, and the deep rumble of thunder came with it. They weren't the Armacham Black Ops forces Vanek had been leading... but that small comfort didn't make a hell of a lot of difference, in his current predicament. He swore loudly to himself, and let the drawn back curtain fall back into place again. This was not how it had been supposed to go down. The mission to Valkyrie Tower... Wade Elementary... Still Island... none of it. While the Lieutenant rested... well, lay bleeding to death slowly in her room, he had finally grown desperate enough to turn on their radios, as well as datapads.
The Delta Force operator sat out in the kitchen with his gear and weaponry spread out on the table... listening to his short wave radio. Checking his datapad, he got a number of signals from other operators in Fairport, around the map. He listened to their voices coming in and out, requesting assistance, informing other squads where to meet and where they were. Evidently, at some point after the blast, while Dark Signal had moved towards the epicenter, and then to Still Island... run the gauntlet of Replica and insane undead psychic chicks and Armacham scumbags, most of the other surviving operators had been getting organized. They had all been scattered in the blast, the numerous squads, but at some point in the absence of contact with the outside they had decided to set up a designated extraction point at Auburn Memorial Hospital. He wasn't sure how many had made it there... along with civilians and whoever else could be found... but the place was where the survivors should had gone to begin with.
Where he would have driven the Lieutenant directly... if he had known... if he hadn't gone and fucked everything up. Panicked. All he'd had to do was check his comlink earlier, and the fact it was being traced would not have been an issue. They could have regrouped with the other Deltas and driven off the fuckers in short order. As it stood... he had boxed them in up here instead. He had thought it was a clever idea to bring Betsy in out of the rainy streets, park her in the underground parking lot of the apartment complex he'd found... and for a time, it had worked. There had been no way of tracking them visually. He'd taken a high vantage point, on the top floor of the apartment, giving him a full view of the streets... somewhere more comfortable for the LT... and while he got that view, he also only further entrenched them into a shit filled trench. Now the view of the surrounding streets he had coveted only became worse to look at. There was only one option left... one hope.
At some point since they'd gone off the grid, the contact with the outside world had been restored... Den Mother, CENTCOM, among others. He had no idea what or who was responsible for that, but he owed them a beer. All the same, if it had just come sooner... it wasn't worth thinking about. He had enough on his plate already as it were. He had one last card to draw, and he would draw it. Activating his comlink, he reached out and contacted the Delta Force coordinator directly for the first time since the blast.
"Dark Signal to Den Mother, repeat Dark Signal to Den Mother. This is Sergeant Manuel Morales of the Dark Signal squad. Come in, over."
There was silence on the line, for a time. Manny picked up his refilled canteen and began to drink from it, uttering a low breath. Looking about the partially illuminated kitchen for a moment. Wasn't a bad neighbourhood or place to stop in, with hindsight... but the new neighbors moving in from the streets below sort of spoiled it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to sit down for a minute and think, without something forcing them to keep on the go. Some task he needed to handle. It wouldn't last, of course... but he made the most of it while he could. He was about to try again, when a voice came through on the other line... familiar, even if they'd not heard it in awhile, since before the blast.
"Sergeant Morales? Is that really you? You're still alive? You made it?"
"More or less. Well... some of us made it. But we're only hanging on by the skin of our teeth here."
"You've been down for hours, even after we got the signal back up. I've been trying to reach you."
"I had our short wave radio and comlink both deactivated. Necessary at the time... now? I think I fucked us over royally. In more ways than one. Been playing catch up, before I called you. I know about the extraction point at Auburn Memorial, now. Why I didn't just take the APC there... another fuck up on my part."
"I couldn't imagine what you've been going through down there. Every man on the ground is being pushed to the limit. Don't worry about it, that's why I'm here now, to help remedy the problem. What is your current situation?"
Something like relief flitted through Manny. They weren't out of the woods yet, by any means... things were going to get a lot worse. All the same, it was good to have the clarity and calm of Den Mother back... someone else to hold up the albatross that had wrapped around their necks and began to steadily constrict. When all this was over, he'd never take CENTCOM for granted again.
"Lieutenant Stokes and I are held up at an apartment complex in the Auburn District. ATC Security is in the streets below surrounding the place. I have no doubt they were tracking our position through our comlink and short wave radio. They hadn't been able to find us until I opened some channels to listen to what was going on out there."
"F.E.A.R.'s gathered information has informed us that Armacham is after you for a reason. They had your team specifically bugged from the start. Your team was redirected on the orders of some higher up to go to Valkyrie Tower in the first place. This is about Alma Wade, isn't it?"
That name again. He'd been hearing nothing but that name for too long. The name of someone... something, he had never even seen. Yet the word was she was responsible for all this supernatural shit going on in Fairport. The missing people. The mutated survivors at ground zero, twisted beyond salvation. The monsters. The inhuman monsters, anyways. And she was absolutely responsible for what she, it, had done to the rest of his team. What it was still doing to Becket. Ignoring the chill that ran up his spine, the pang of guilt for his failure at Still Island, at last, he uttered a low breath and spoke into the comlink again.
"The ghost bitch? Yeah. You could say that... long story... I wouldn't know where to start. We picked up plenty of intel ourselves since you've been offline, and the LT knows even more about it all than I do, she's the one you guys are gonna have to talk to. She was shot in the gut by that fucking Genevieve Aristide, at the amplifier on Still Island. Left her to die. Then we had to run the gauntlet of Armacham's troops to escape the island. Almost didn't make it out. No idea how she survived it this long, damn tough."
"Is Lieutenant Stokes in stable condition?"
"For the time being. Passing in and out of consciousness. I bandaged her up, but she's lost a lot of blood. In a lot of fucking pain, morphine should be wearing off soon too. Your guys get here, take her back to the Auburn Memorial and treat her, she'll tell you and the F.E.A.R. Ghostbusters everything you wanna know about those evil bitches. Alma and Aristide. Probably tell you some things that you don't want to know. Like I said, we've collected our share of data along the way. Top secret experiments, you name it. Armacham is fucked one way or another. We're gonna live long enough to watch em' burn, if it's the last thing I do."
"Yes. You will. We all will. There's no getting out of this one for them."
"You got our position signals then, Den Mother?"
"Of course, and full access to the Hannibal-3 satellite has been restored. ATC were watching us through it during the Fairport operation, but the USAF and USSF have successfully locked them out of the system, assumed full control. We'll have to replace your bugged comlinks all the same... looks like they didn't need the satellite to track your positions. I can have the F.E.A.R. Commissioner Rodney Betters pull up a live feed of your current position at the apartments, once I brief him on this situation. It was his second F.E.A.R. team who got the Hannibal-3 back online, redirected their relay from a satellite tower and restored full contact with our ground units."
"God bless the age of high technology. I owe those fellas a cold one, if I make it out of here."
"We all owe them a round. Give me a few moments, stay on the line, I'm going to contact Betters and Sergeant Major Holiday. The unit leader and his team just made it to Auburn Memorial Hospital. Major Silva is still out of contact, presumed K.I.A. Holiday is in command of all Delta Force operators now."
"Holiday made it? Figures. That's good, at least. Hope I didn't interrupt dinnertime for 'em. Copy that, Den Mother. Standing by now. Hurry up, I don't like what I'm hearing out there."
Manny withdrew from the comlink, looking back over his gear and weapons again from where he sat for a time. He looked up at the clock. Every clock he could find was frozen at the early hours of the morning... when the Vault had gone critical. Even those that were battery powered... watches, you name it. He wasn't sure what the fuck the story was with that... but he could probably guess. The same source as this unnatural storm and night. Everything that seemed to be going wrong in Fairport. The missing civilians. Nevertheless... he was glad to be a bit further away from the epicenter than before. Away from the Replica, at least.
He knew that couldn't last... that what lie at ground zero of the blast could only continue to spread... but for the moment, everything was clear. Where he was, what needed to be done. Where he needed to go. He would take that objective and work with it... while all this was still in his hands to do so. And he would have backup, soon... wouldn't have to just count on himself for everything. He could hear their voices below... their movement out the open window. He would have to prepare for ATC's Security Forces in the meantime. The comlink activated again before too long, and Den Mother's voice returned with it.
"Sergeant Morales? Good news. I got Holiday and Betters on my side of the comlink, and have informed them of the situation. The Sergeant Major, a F.E.A.R. combat operative and a team of operators are on their way to your position right now. They're taking an ambulance out to you, and will be there as soon as they can. You need to hold out where you are as long as possible. Are you in a secure area? Well armed?"
"Top floor of the apartment... and I brought up some of the hardware with me from the APC to fight back with. Plenty of ammunition. Have a few ideas up my sleeve to delay them. They aren't making it up here unscathed."
"If you've got them, use them. I'll keep you updated on the vicinity of the team while you hold them off. Stall them by any means possible, as long as possible."
"After the shit we just went through? You're goddamn right we're going to survive a few hired goons. APC or not."
"Understood. All the same, be careful, Sergeant, and keep in contact when you can. The team will be at your position ASAP. Hold on tight. We'll pull your boots out of the fire yet."
"Copy that, Den Mother, we'll give 'em hell up here in the meantime. Tell Holiday and his crew to hurry up, and wish us luck. Sergeant Morales, over and out."
When Den Mother was gone, Manny leaned back in his seat and rubbed his face slowly with a gloved hand. Looking over the table again. It was time to get ready... now or never, do or die. There was no choice. Nodding slightly to himself, he scooped up the Seegart ACM46 pistol off the table, inspecting it one more time, readying it and slipping it into its proper holster. Then he turned his attention to the trusty Vollmer Ultra92 Automatic Shotgun he had brought up... perfect for close encounters in the apartment corridors... checking the ammunition, before slinging it. Lastly he took up his Andra FD-99 Submachine Gun next, popping a fresh magazine inside it and peering down the reflex sights. With a satisfied nod, he rose back to his feet at last and began to put all his gear back on, clearing away the table. He kept his submachine gun out and at the ready. Something going wrong to start the confrontation was inevitable... he had expected it to happen from the moment he'd watched them all pulling up.
He just hadn't expected it to come as quickly as it did, in the wake of his preparations.
His comlink blared to life again, and when it did, a man's voice he did not know came with it, taking him off guard.
"Sergeant Manuel Morales? This is Lieutenant Sykes of ATC Security. We have the situation in Fairport nearly under control. Armacham Forces are currently restoring order Downtown. We're searching for stranded Delta Force operators and other survivors, we're going to get you guys the hell out of there. Evacuation. Come down now, and bring the Lieutenant with you if she is capable of moving. We've got some medics on standby for her down here. Can send them up to get her, if needed."
Speak of the devil. Manny froze for a moment, listening to the silence on the line, then moved over to the window, looking down into the street. He couldn't see who ever it was calling the shots... they might have been on the other side of the building. Or down in the parking garage... or not even present at all, letting his men do the dirty work. Given what he'd seen lately, the despicable lows of Armacham, it was more likely than not. The man on the other end was a fool to be even bothering going through the song and dance, and probably knew it too... an obvious liar. Still they had to go through the motions. Perhaps Manny could take advantage of it... stall him a little longer... every moment now counted, until his reinforcements could arrive. He stepped away from the window, stepping through the apartment, past the LT's room's closed door and back to the main door of the place. Pausing there as the voice spoke again, and forming his own response in turn with a smirk.
"Sergeant Morales, are you still there? Are you listening?"
"Yeah. I am. Heard you loud and clear the first time. 'Fraid I can't do that, amigo. Armacham is under official investigation by the United States Armed Forces. You already know that. So let's cut to the chase. The elephant in the room. You're here to kill us. We saw too much. Harbinger. Alma. Still Island. You working for Genevieve Aristide, or Carson Saylers? I've been out of the loop on that front, lately. The civil war brewing in your corporation. I'm a driver, not an intelligence or communications officer... but I know they're both big on covering their tracks. Experimenting on people and trying to murder Delta Force operators who know more than they should. Committing treason against the United States, as you are now."
There was a silence on the line, and Manny grinned morbidly, letting the bastard chew it over. This conversation was not going to end well... he knew the outcome already. But that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun in the process. He could use a little, the past apocalyptic day considered. Finally, the stranger's voice spoke again, still calm and controlled in spite of his words. Regardless, Manny sensed some annoyance behind them, and he pushed it a little further at a time.
"I know you must be understandably on edge, but you are mistaken, Sergeant, this is an official search and rescue operation, for all civilians and military personnel remaining in Fairport. We are acting on behalf of Congress... we were closer and able to deploy in Fairport faster than the National Guard. Our orders are to seek you out and evacuate you. You boys have done enough hard work as it is."
"Don't I know it. Say... how much are they paying you guys? Been wondering since the shit hit the fan. I mean, you Armacham thugs have to be either fucking crazy to be out here willingly or incredibly well paid. I'm more on the crazy side than the well paid one myself, but you sound pretty normal. How much are you pulling down after taxes to capture and murder civilians and military personnel? Gotta be more than a government job."
"Sergeant, there is no other way out of this city. The Replica are all over, and we have the manpower protect you from them. There is no escaping on your own. You are exhausted, not thinking rationally. We are not your enemy. You have a wounded woman with you as well. She doesn't have to die up there. Come out quietly and surrender while you still can. For her sake, if not your own. Swallow your pride. We will give Lieutenant Stokes the proper, swift medical treatment she requires, you have my word on that."
"Yeah. Like another lead based solution. That was your boss's idea of treatment, back at Still Island. Think I'm gonna go ahead and call your bluff. Sorry. Word of a stranger dressed in Armacham colors doesn't mean a whole fuck of a lot from where I'm standing. After what we've been through while you earn an easy paycheck hunting down wounded or unarmed folk. You'll have to be a bit more honest about your intentions from here on. We both know what they are."
A silence returned on the line from Lieutenant Sykes in the wake of his words. Manny opened the door of the apartment and glanced down either side of the hall. Keeping an eye out. From the look of it, their men hadn't advanced yet... were just waiting for the order. Manny closed the door behind him, readying his submachine gun, peering down the sights to the corridor and the divide between the stairwell and elevator. When the ATC Lieutenant spoke again, sighing, it was with open, cold contempt. His true face revealed at last. The mask could only be maintained so long.
"Very well, then. If that's how you want it. So much for the cat and mouse shit. We gave you your chance to make this quick and clean. That was your final warning. We'll have to do this the old fashioned way. We have your position covered and surrounded and your APC is out of your reach. We're coming up there, Sergeant. No quarter will be given. You and the bitch better be ready to surrender."
"When you are, rent-a-cop. With our training, what we've survived so far, you're gonna need your entire fucking army of amateurs to breach this apartment. That's a goddamn certified guarantee. Part of why I was wondering how well paid you goons are. Your loved ones are gonna get your final checks, promptly. Assuming Armacham doesn't make sure they bounce. See you on the battlefield, asshole."
Manny reached up and broke the communications line with the bastard, looking back down the hall. Stirring the hornet's nest was worth it... considering he'd already known they would come up no matter what he said. Maybe he had bought a few precious moments keeping that jackass on the line. He took a low breath and moved swiftly down the hall, past numerous other closed apartments, closer to the stairs. Stopping at the divide in the corridor between the stairwell and the elevator, looking between the two of them. It was only a question of which one they were going to use first. Either way... he had a plan. Not long term plans, but temporary solutions... maybe enough to buy them some more breathing room, long enough for Holiday's team to arrive. If not? Better to go down swinging, take as many of the fuckers with them as possible. Part of him wished he had brought up the sniper rifle from the APC, snipe the barricades outside from up here, but it had never been his forte, and it would just give away their position for bombardment from afar, perhaps even their own snipers for all he knew.
Even if they didn't make it, at least Holiday would be by with his crew to avenge them against whoever was left standing. He regretted his mistake in bringing them here... the hell that had been their escape from Armacham, from Still Island... while having to simultaneously tend to Stokes had finally got to him. Pushed him to his limits. Replica were one thing... all this was quite another. Escape had been unlikely, all the exits of the city manned by Armacham... but he could have stayed in the APC... in the Old Underground Metro Area... creepy as the place was... but the situation was what it was. He could only fight now or die quietly. They had a chance, at least... he owed it to everyone they had lost on the team... to the LT... and to Becket, if it wasn't too late for him already. A button dinged, and he heard it... the low rumble emanating from under the complex. Elevator it was. Manny ran over to the closed metal doors of the elevator, dug his fingers into the crack between them, as he'd tested before, and pulled it open, separating them.
The doors opened all the way, and he put his boot between then so it wouldn't close. He glanced down over the side to watch the elevator rising floor by floor... packed with ATC security guards ready to gun him down the second the doors opened. Taking up the submachine gun again, he didn't give them the chance to try. He aimed down the reflex sights to the moving pulleys holding up the elevator. He waited until the elevator was at a certain height over the parking lot, as close to the top floor as possible, and he squeezed the trigger. Opening fire on each of the pulleys. The rounds tore through them in a stream of bursts, tearing them apart and severing their connection to the elevator. Sparks flew every way towards him... the damaged cables creaked back and forth, but the damage was done. Snapping beneath the weight, the tether cable gave way and the metal box below... a closed casket now, really, was sent plummeting all the way back down to the bottom, amid the echoing screams of its occupants. There was a thunderous crash at the bottom, and smoke began to rush up towards Manny... the elevator's interior set on fire.
At the moment of impact, not another voice or human sound came from the bottom of the shaft... at least not those men. Manny withdrew from the open doors of the elevator with a trace of a satisfied smirk, the doors closing behind him, cutting off the smoke. He could hear them down in the parking garage, faintly... and made his way over to the top of the stairs, peering all the way down them. He stood up there for a good few minutes... waiting for them to make their next move. And when they did, he was prepared. The doors at the very bottom of the stairs crashed open, and he heard the bustling of boots and gear up the stairs, beginning their ascent. He could glimpse their shadows moving through the light, and the outline of blue and black armored uniforms. Manny reached to one of his pouches and withdrew a cylindrical device from it. Pulling the pin, he dropped the smoke grenade down all the way to the bottom. It activated along the way, bringing down a powerful stream of smoke with it, covering over every stairwell on each floor it dropped down, before reaching the bottom. He heard it land and roll around, still producing rolling smoking clouds up amid the sudden fits of coughing emanating from down there.
He wasn't done with the bastards by any means. Manny plucked another device from his pouch, looking it over for a moment with a pleased smile. The N6A3 Fragmentation Grenade was truly a thing of beauty... especially now. Time to give them the good news.
"Say hello to my little friend, boys!"
The Delta Force driver primed the explosive device and dropped it down over the side, chasing after the smoke grenade. When it was over half way to the bottom, it detonated, close to the midst of a number of the Armacham Security Forces. He heard their screams as the explosion overtook them, and shrapnel burst through several levels, raining against them. Once it had detonated, Manny aimed down over the railing and peered down his sights, focusing on outlines he glimpsed staggering blindly and painfully in the smoke, and opened fire. Steady concentrated bursts in their directions, forcing them all to take cover. He hit at least a few of them, he was certain, judging by the screams, their bodies falling this way and that, feeling a welcome rush of adrenaline and exhilaration, blocking out his fear.
"Got plenty more for all of you where that came from! Get up here and make my day!"
Morales shouted down at them with a laugh over the gunfire. When he burned through the magazine, he withdrew back from the stairwell, quickly reloading, as a number of their weapons returned fire... RPL Submachine Guns, G2A2 Assault Rifles, SM15 Machine Pistols, VK-12 shotguns among others, from the sounds of the bursts. Tracers flew up in his direction from the smoke, firing wildly, inaccurately. The plaster and tiles of the roof under the hail of bullets rained down along the stairwell as holes were punched into them, adding dust to the smoke. He heard the pained and angry shouting and cursing to one another and up at him on the stairs, and he knew enough that they were thoroughly riled up now. He was tempted to drop another grenade, but opted to save his explosives, ration them out as needed. Still, he had bought them a little more time before they would get organized again and make their way up for round two.
Taking that as his cue, he knew what his next step had to be. Turning back down the hall, he ran quickly back towards the apartment they had holed up in. He needed to make sure Stokes was still awake... aware and ready for what was coming for them. If she was in any condition to help, he would see... but regardless, she needed the good news and the bad news lay out for her. Maybe it would be enough to keep her awake... bring her back in the game. At least prepared to resist as much as she could, whether or not their reinforcements made it in time. He knew what he would be requesting of her, in the condition she was in... but he had no choice in the matter. It was an all or nothing situation, and they were all in the shit. She would sooner go down swinging anyways, injured or not, instead of just laying in that bedroom waiting to die... he knew her well enough to know that.
There would be plenty of fighting to go around for everyone, soon enough. Even the Ghostbusters at F.E.A.R. were still in the game, and on the way. Must have been bored of hunting ghosts, by now, in a city teeming with them.
Still, who was Manny to look a gift horse in the mouth?