A/N: I hope this fine Friday finds you well, we've returned again! Last we left off, a few major things developed and the bluff was finally called. I know this part of the story has been longer but it's a very important one. That doesn't just go for Damon either, a lot of other characters have had to face some pretty ugly things in the last 10 chapters. Without spoiling anything though... well, the bluff has been called. Anyway, leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!
Chapter 87: An Old Friend
The guards stood around Nate and I, staring at Castle as if she'd grown a new head. Something that wouldn't be too unusual in this hellhole, I've seen at least three different types of animals with the mutation.
Like them, the crowd around us was silent. Everyone, including the guards, had expected some kind of blood bath. Whether it had been the prisoners killing Nate, me killing the prisoners, or the guards killing Nate and then the support team, they were there for blood.
And there was none.
Not only that but Castle had just given up most of her leverage. Now, I knew, given the option of either carrying out her threat and dying or backing off to survive, she'd rather live. It wasn't the surprise I would have thought it'd be. Castle is crazy, even more so than me, but she's a very different kind. I've only ever seen the word a few times while reading during my training but I think it fits.
Castle is a narcissist.
She comes off as distant and uncaring, she never showed any concern for being around me despite my ability to kill her at any time. At least, that had been the case until yesterday. She'd started putting a little distance between us whenever she was around. Now, after I'd broken her arm, it didn't look like she wanted to be within 50 meters of me.
Her face was still the same impassive calm it had been, but her body was telling an entirely different story. Between her tensed legs and the muscles in her neck that stood in sharp relief- it might have been the pain from her broken bones. Something told me it wasn't. At least, that wasn't all of it.
"Castle?" one of the guards asked. His eyes were on her but his rifle was still aimed at me. "You know what Lucas said earlier."
She nodded. "Doesn't change what I'm telling you to do. Back to their cells."
Why? What's the point? Sure, she still has leverage if she's willing to do everything from a distance now. Even so, she had to know it was over.
The guard looked at me, then to the gun in my hand.
"Drop it."
As tempting as it was to not do that, I needed to get out of the middle of this crowd. Aside from my general aversion to being around this many people, and the discomfort of having hundreds of Raiders around me, if something is going to happen, I'd rather have better odds and more mobility.
I let the handgun fall to the dirt once again.
The guards all stepped away and the one she called "Z" jerked the barrel of his HK-33 at the gate.
Nate's breathing had returned to normal and his eyes were open again. His face was a mask of pain and exhaustion. Sweat was drying along with the dirt that still clung to him, his jaw was set hard and his eyes were narrowed ever so slightly against the agony.
Before the guards could give us a useless "move" command, the ex-soldier struggled to his feet and began toward the opening in the ring.
We aren't going back to the cell…
The thought came from nowhere.
Lucas said something. He wanted me- us dead when we talked with him yesterday. He probably feels like Castle has lost control. That's gotten worse after this. Their leadership will want to cut their losses.
It was a hunch, one that I couldn't act on yet, but it was a possibility.
There was something else, not just Lucas having said something, that was setting off alarms.
My eyes wandered to the guards. There were a dozen of Lucas's men guarding us this time. They weren't leaving it to the regular Raiders anymore. That could have just been insurance against anything happening. Or they could be here because Lucas thought they would have a better chance of killing me than the ones we ran through yesterday.
Only three of them were armed with anything that might do something to my armor. Most were carrying 5.56mm or 7.62mm rifles. Good against soft or lightly armored targets. None of them would dent my hard armor or get through my undersuit.
Leaning down so I was level with Nate's ear I whispered, "eyes up."
The ex-soldier met my gaze with a glance and nodded.
Something about his expression had changed. The frown on his face wasn't as tight and the narrowing of his eyes seemed a little less strained. Had he picked up on that too?
I caught a glimpse of Jackson and Deacon standing just outside the ring's exit. Two more from the Institute team were behind them.
Again, I'd have to ask Deacon how he'd managed that.
As we passed through the open gate, Deacon and one of the others fell in behind our guard.
The crowd was pressing in around us or, at least, that's what it felt like. They didn't encroach on a three-meter-wide pathway that allowed us through. It didn't matter, it took every ounce of my willpower to keep myself calm and relaxed.
If I had to guess why they'd be taking us somewhere else, it's to minimize collateral damage. Yes, they had more bodies here which meant more manpower to kill me. It also meant exposing significantly more of their people to harm if a fight started. If my goal was just to kill as many as possible, all I'd have to do here is fire into the crowd.
It would also make it a lot harder for them to fire anything big enough to hurt me. If they were concerned about the health of their own people, that is.
Once we were out of the crowd, the guards spread out in front and behind us. A few stragglers followed as we marched south, away from the parade ground, including Deacon and the other man.
They were taking us back toward the building we'd been held in.
That wasn't enough to make me start doubting my assessment. They could either be doing this to make it seem like everything was fine, or they could be doing it because wherever they were actually taking us was in the same direction. Whatever the case, the back of my neck was tingling so hard I had to resist the urge to reach back and scratch it. Not that doing it would help through the armor.
As always, Raiders were lining the sides of the walkway. Most of them were gathered in small groups and had probably been talking before we came by. Now, each of them was glaring daggers at us, like they had on our way to the parade ground before the fights. The difference now is the creeping concern one of them would start shooting.
A minute passed without incident. We were walking slowly and, while Nate wouldn't have admitted it, he seemed to be thankful for the slow pace. He was still holding his right hand and, I realized, he was probably doing that to put pressure on the wound.
"How bad?" I asked. My voice seemed unnaturally loud after no one had talked since we left the ring.
Nate grimaced. "I won't be flipping anyone the bird with my right hand again." He tried to smile, it still looked like a grimace. "Guess it's good I got to do it to that bitch for a finale." The ex-soldier's voice was… strained but still relatively calm. It didn't reflect the intensity in his eyes. They were constantly roaming over our surroundings with the practice of someone who'd done this a thousand times before.
"Has the bleeding stopped?"
He shook his head. "We can make a bandage when we get back to the cell." He shot me a glance.
Yeah, he'd picked up on the same thing.
"Copy", I said quietly.
We hadn't picked up any new tails. Including our two from the infiltration team, there were 7 'regulars' and 12 of Lucas's people.
Still, there were 20 or 30 more Raiders in sight along our path. If a fight started… I don't like those odds. Not with Nate in the middle, both of us without weapons or cover.
Hopefully, we were going somewhere a little more secluded for what these guys had planned.
Our building drew into sight but, as soon as it did, we took a left and started straight toward the southern motor pool where the Gauntlet had been set up.
So we were right.
Nate stopped in his tracks. "Where are we going?"
One of the Raiders behind us shoved him, hard, and the infantryman stumbled forward with a grunt.
Then I stopped.
"He asked where we're going?"
"New holding location", the lead guard said over his shoulder. "Lucas doesn't want you all together anymore. He doesn't feel like Castle's in control of the situation."
It was a reasonable excuse and, the way the guy said it, that would have been easy to believe.
But I didn't. I've been through way too many rough fights to ignore my instincts with something like this.
"What's going to happen to my people?" I asked, still rooted in place. It forced the rest of the guards to come to a stop to maintain their perimeter.
The guard turned to face me. "Long as you do what you're supposed to, they'll be fine." He smirked at me. "You don't get movin' they won't be. And I ain't Castle, I'll make good on that promise."
No point making this difficult yet.
I nodded and started forward again. When I glanced back at the other guards- and where our two infiltrators were- I noticed it was only Deacon following. The former scientist had turned south again. Was he heading to the holding cell? He'd heard what the guard just said.
Deacon saw me looking and gave me a small smile. He was, as always, wearing those sunglasses so it was impossible to tell what he was thinking but it seemed like they had a plan together. He's picked up on it at this point, I do not doubt that.
We continued toward the large steel and concrete building at a slow plod. This area was oddly empty.
Another alarm bell went off.
When I'd first arrived, Raiders had been everywhere around here. Whether that was because I'd just gotten here or because they were normally there, I don't know. We were nearing the base's southern perimeter. There would have to be patrols and guards in this area or they'd risk being infiltrated.
No… this was on purpose. They were trying to isolate me and control as many variables as possible. If I had any doubt about what was about to happen, it was gone.
As we neared the motor pool, I stepped in closer to Nate, partially shielding him from the Raiders in front of us.
The building loomed ahead. It's where this part of my nightmare started. It's where Vince died- where I failed. It's where I killed 13 prisoners before I'd ever known they were prisoners. I'd been played, and it cost people their lives.
I forced a breath through my nose.
At least it seems like Castle has lost control of the situation…
We crossed the large, open lot that was just outside of the base-side exit for the motor pool. When I'd arrived, there had been dozens or hundreds of Raiders around it.
Now it was empty. It wasn't quite silent, I could still hear activity from up north, but there was nothing in the immediate area.
Who are they trying to trick with this?
It's possible they weren't trying to trick anyone. Maybe they knew we'd figure it out and all they wanted was for me to stay in line long enough to get here with the threat they posed to the support team.
I had a feeling that wouldn't be a huge problem if our infiltration team was on it. Well- not an immediate problem.
What happens there doesn't matter yet. I need to deal with this situation first, then I'll worry about that. One thing at a time.
Deacon ambled off to the west, disappearing around the side of the building. The five other regs were still there, following us.
The lead guard led us up to the large sliding vehicle bay door and banged on it twice. The thin steel rang and shuddered under the impacts. A few seconds later, I heard a latch thrown on the other side with a clunk and then whoever was in there began sliding it aside on squealing, rusted wheels.
After a few seconds, it opened to reveal the large interior of the motor pool, well-lit and clear aside from the walls of the Gauntlet. Standing just inside the door was- I recognized him. Abnormally large, almost as tall as me, heavily muscled, and very unhappy-looking with a deep, tense frown on his bald, clean-shaven face.
Except, this time, he was half a head taller than me. He was in a set of heavily modified power armor, not dissimilar to what I saw in Quincy. The entire thing had been stretched to accommodate him, with plates welded across the frame thick enough to stop pretty much any hand-carried weapon.
It also looked incredibly cumbersome. Between him and that armor, it must have weighed at least 700 kilos. Probably more. In the handful of seconds I had to look, I noticed a large auxiliary actuator grafted to the back of each arm, sticking up just past the edge of the frame. While I couldn't tell from the front, there were likely similar modifications to the legs. They'd done what they could to accommodate the extra weight. What about frame reinforcement and energy usage?
Come to think of it, I don't know how the T-60 suits the Brotherhood have are powered…
"Go", one of the guards demanded.
We passed the large Raider while he glared daggers at me.
Nate would know.
There are two reasons they'd have him here in that armor: he's acting as a guard since they don't think they can use the safety of the support team as leverage or he's going to be the primary element of their attack. No helmet on meant we wouldn't be starting that fight here. The fact that's the only modified suit I've seen here, and they put him in it, made me think option number two was more likely.
What they were planning was imminent, but they weren't active yet. Deacon and the rest of the infiltration team seemed to know something was going on. That means they'll put their plan into action, even if prep isn't complete. I have to trust they'll have contingencies.
We were led past the Gauntlet's enclosure, a dozen maintenance pits, under a series of overhead gantries, and to the south end of the motor pool.
"Inside", the guard commanded and jerked the muzzle of his rifle toward a steel door set in the concrete wall ahead of us.
I unlatched it and pulled the door open. It groaned on corroded hinges. The door itself was light. Hollow. The latch wasn't to us either, maybe a centimeter square steel bar that slid into a keeper on the frame. It wouldn't be hard to break down.
Temporary holding.
Looks like that hunch was right.
As I ducked inside, Nate followed and, once we were through the door, the guard slammed it shut behind us. We were plunged into darkness.
That wasn't an issue for me, my visor's night vision activated and washed the room back into life. The colors were muted but it looked like, with the mess of shelves, rusted equipment, and nothing else, they'd put us in a store room. It was a little over five meters deep and three across.
First thing's first; we needed to do what we could with Nate's hand.
"Close your eyes", I said as I turned back to the ex-soldier.
He did and I activated the small, extremely powerful LED lights in my helmet.
Even with his eyes closed, Nate's head jerked away.
"Jesus. All this time and I'm just learning that bucket has built-in headlights?" he muttered.
"You don't know a lot about my armor." I shifted my head so the light wasn't shining on his face. "Let me see your hand."
He pulled his left hand away from his right. They were both covered in blood by this point, with more dripping down his arms and staining his shirt.
His right hand wasn't bad, considering it had been shot point-blank. The only thing that was damaged was his middle finger. Which was gone. The round hadn't done a very good job. Bullets aren't known for their ability to make a clean amputation. The wound was slightly concave with tendons and bone visible past the slow stream of blood.
Nate grimaced. "If you don't kill her, I will."
"Yeah", I said. "I plan on it."
Without anything to clean the wound, he'd have to be careful. To be safe, we'll have to get him some antibiotics after this. For now, binding it to keep him from losing more blood or risking infection was all we could do.
"Here", the ex-soldier said, holding out his left arm. "Use part of my sleeve."
The fabric wasn't clean but it was all we had. I tore it halfway up to his elbow and did my best to knock the residual dirt from the sleeve.
"Don't make it too thick, I still need to be able to hold a gun."
I wrapped the makeshift bandage around the center of his hand a few times and tied it at his wrist to keep it in place.
"How do you feel", I asked once it was secure.
Nate tested his hand, wincing as he flexed it. "Sore and still tired, fighting with this hand will be an adventure, but I think I can manage." He looked up at me. "Thanks for that, back there. If you hadn't come out I- probably would have kept going until I was dead."
"That's what I guessed". I replied, nodding. "Thanks for…" how did I say that?
"You're welcome", the ex-soldier said before I could think of anything. "Felt like it was about time someone did that. Sorry it took so long. And this situation to figure that out."
… I wanted to say it shouldn't have taken someone telling me that but- I think it did. For whatever reason, I needed to hear that I could stop. From someone I trust.
"I was going to shoot the guy aiming at you, then Castle if you hadn't."
He laughed. "Too bad I said anything then." A grimace flashed across the ex-soldier's face. "Nah, it felt like you needed that and- you deserve it after everything. Part of me is still shocked you came."
"It was never a question", I said with a shrug. And that was the truth. From the moment I learned what happened, my only concern was getting them back. The option of abandoning them came to mind, but it was never a consideration.
The ex-soldier smiled. It was so genuine I almost could have forgotten he'd just lost a finger at the end of a very long, very hard fight. "I know."
Unfortunately… or fortunately, depending on what happens, that fight was the warm-up. "It won't matter if we don't get out of here."
"How long do you think we wait?" Nate asked.
It was a good question. If we go too soon, the infiltration team won't have time to get the others secure. If we waited too long, the Raiders would both be able to finish their preparations here and I wouldn't be available to help get everyone out.
"Assuming they have weapons stashed, five minutes to get the rest of the team out." Two hadn't been present at the fight. That means they were either working on the escape plan or taking position to secure the rest of the team, if necessary. "Able will want to hold position until we rendezvous. With the limited ingress options, they should be able to hold for a little while, not long. Maybe ten more minutes. The longer we take to reach them, the higher the risk of losing people." Unless… "Unless Lucas doesn't want to kill them yet."
Nate frowned. "If that's the case, breaking out will trigger the fight. How long do you think it would take our surprise to show up?"
That was a good question. It depended on how much the Brotherhood was willing to believe us and how interested they'd be in taking retribution for the attempted assassination.
We also have to take the possibility the infiltration team might try to break other prisoners out into account. "No clue. If they try for a full jailbreak, we might have more time."
"You know, I think you might have won a little support with that stunt in the ring. Buck's hard to read but you did save him and his people."
"Maybe."
The infantryman grunted. "So we either have 15 minutes to break out and make it to the cell or, if we break out, we'll trigger the fighting." He paused and crossed his arms. "I don't like waiting too long. We have to think they'll have thought something up to deal with you."
I nodded. "That armor looked like it was built recently. I think it's made to fight me."
"Yeah but… that wouldn't be enough, would it?" Nate glanced at the door behind him. "It won't be fast enough. And they got a regular human driving it." He squinted. "They could pump him full of a drug cocktail to help."
That sounded interesting. And dangerous. Even with an opponent with the same physical strength as me, the difference in reaction time and speed would be more than enough, especially against a single combatant. I don't know how one would overcome that disparity but, if drugs existed that could do it, I imagine they'd be incredibly dangerous.
"What kind of drugs?"
"There's a few I can think of", Nate said. "The most likely would be an amphetamine called "Psycho". It was in testing during my time in the military. It was meant to increase longevity in combat but… from what I heard, most people who took it just became meatheads." He shrugged. "There's always good old-fashioned adrenaline shots."
Heavy doses of amphetamines? Adrenaline? Those could give a regular human a boost but they have diminishing returns and someone would reach a lethal dose way before they closed half of the reaction time gap.
Were there other drugs that might help?
It's possible. I have to assume the worst. At the very least he'll be heavier than me and, maybe, as strong. If I assume his reactions will be as quick as mine, anything less will be an improvement.
"If he's their primary in a fight with me, the other guards will be there to provide support and kill you", I said. "They'll rig traps and, probably, have a secondary force to respond if this one fails."
"You think you scare them that bad?"
I cocked my head at him. "They've gone through a lot of trouble for someone who doesn't scare them."
He smiled. "Hearing you brag is amusing."
"Why?"
"Because of how matter of fact you are", Nate said. "Fine, let's assume you're right. I trust you have an idea about how to kill that guy. How do I deal with a platoon of guards with Deacon? Unarmed?"
"Isolate and take on one fight at a time. Deacon is armed, I can get you a weapon. I'll do my best to drip-feed you Raiders."
"Okay." Nate snorted. "If you think you can."
"We don't have the time or information to come up with something better. Improvise."
"That's your favorite word, isn't it? Improvise."
"It's a useful skill", I said.
"Says you." He looked at the door. "It's been, what, five minutes now?"
My eyes flicked to the clock in my HUD. "Close."
Nate exhaled slowly. "Waiting here sucks. You think we're on the clock?"
Considering all of the available information, I have to imagine the infiltration team is going to play it slow. My guess?
"Not yet. I don't think the Raiders will kill them yet. The infil team is waiting on us to make a move", I said. "We'll give them another 10 minutes."
"Alright…" The ex-soldier lowered himself to the cracked concrete floor and laid down. "See if I can get my legs to stop feeling like jelly."
Probably a good idea. We had a hell of a fight ahead of us.
Nate's breathing slowed as the seconds ticked by with an agonizing tedium. It was like every one stretched on about three times as long as they should have. Yes, I think the infiltration team will wait for me to make a move, and yes I think Lucas will wait until I'm dead to kill them so he has insurance on me but…
I'm leaving this up to "I think" and that's never how I operate. Making assumptions gets people killed and, for once, I care about that.
Scenario after scenario played out in my mind, what the Raiders could have waiting for me in this motor pool, what would happen if the others broke out, counting on my support, and I wasn't there.
This isn't going to help me. It won't help anyone. I've made the call, I know why I made the call. Doing it differently carries just as many risks.
That was easy enough to say but it still felt like every second I waited, I was putting my people at greater risk.
As the seventh minute ticked by, I heard something, a strange cacophony of distant thuds, outside the door. I wasn't sure what, the noise was soft and only lasted an instant. Was it gunfire? Had the fighting started and I'm still locked in this damn closet?
No… if it was gunfire, I'd be hearing more of it.
Nate's breathing, even though he was staying relatively still and quiet, felt loud enough to be in a wind tunnel. I knew it was my mind's doing but it was still setting me on edge.
Even with the already painfully loud breathing, I turned the gain in my helmet's audio up. I could hear voices outside, walking, but no shooting.
Eight minutes.
Nine Minutes…
"Get ready", I whispered.
The ex-soldier grunted and climbed to his feet. With my speakers amplifying the sound, it felt like my head was in a shipboard garbage disposal system. I didn't turn it back down. I needed to listen and hear.
Still footsteps. One set was deep and heavy. That was my friend, what had York called him? Randy?
None of them were near.
Four voices sounded directly outside the door. Four wouldn't be too bad to deal with and they'd be armed. That meant weapons for myself, Nate, and extras in case anyone else needed one.
This needed to be fast.
I slipped to the far side of the room and motioned for Nate to clear the narrow path between the shelves. He looked at me, to the door, and back before nodding and stepping aside.
"Cover your ears and exhale."
He did.
As soon as the tenth minute snapped by on my HUD, I launched myself forward.
It took two strides to cover the distance to the steel door and then my shoulder was driving into it.
Then my shoulder was driving through it.
The door crumpled beneath the force of the charge and the latch broke with a snap I felt more than heard.
A split-second later, the hinges gave up too and the entire door exploded into the room with a resounding boom!
My "shock and awe" entry wasn't just to move quickly. The concussive force from the door blowing off its hinges like that, while not as potent as a concussion grenade, would still disorient anyone immediately next to the door.
One Raider was unfortunate enough to have been standing in front of the door. It slammed into him and both he and the ruined door were sent careening into a maintenance pit five meters away.
His friends stumbled, surprised and disoriented by the sudden entrance of a door and blast of air into their conversation.
The second man, immediately to my right, caught a low kick to his left knee. The joint buckled sideways with a crunch and he dropped to the ground, screaming.
A few heartbeats later and the other two were down as well. I pulled a weapon, one of the 7.62mm combat rifles, from one of the downed Raiders and put a round into each of them.
Now we were on the clock. Since I don't know when that clock runs out, we needed to move as fast as possible.
"Clear", I called, checking my new weapon. It was in the same shape most other Raider firearms are, but at least it fired.
Nate hurried from the room and grabbed a rifle of his own as I collected three extra magazines.
These Raiders weren't Lucas's people. They were regs.
"Ready", Nate said as he slipped the rifle's sling over his neck.
They were likely counting on a breakout.
With the entire motor pool open ahead of us, I didn't want to risk crossing it with Nate in tow. Our best chance would be to find an exit on this side of the building.
That decision was taken out of my hands when I heard a loud bang and the pounding of boots came from my left. There were a lot of Raiders.
"The Gauntlet", I said and turned to face the oncoming force.
Nate started toward the only structure in this part of the motor pool. Not that I wanted to go in there again, but it was the best cover we had for the time being.
He'd only made it about a quarter of the way across the 50 meters between us and it when the first Raider came into view. More regs.
They emerged from what looked like a hallway between two maintenance bays 30 meters away. Probably an access door there.
The first one out took a round to the neck and tumbled to the ground, grasping at the wound. That hindered the second who, in their hurry to get out of the hallway, tripped over the downed Raider and was sent flailing into the open.
My sights found his head as he tried to collect himself and he was gone.
It wasn't until the third one jumped over the first and I put a bullet in his right eye they figured out running into the open was a bad idea. After he collapsed, one stuck their rifle around the corner and began blindly returning fire. The reports echoed throughout the motor pool, crashing into each other but the shots were so erratic, the odds of a bullet splintering on a ricochet and hitting Nate were better than scoring a direct hit.
I fired at the corner just left of the weapon. Buildings of this type generally have cheap interior construction. As long as the structure was sound, there was no need for the rooms inside to be robust. No one expected to get into a gunfight in a motor pool.
There was no blast of material as my shots connected with the wall which means they, more likely than not, passed straight through. That theory was confirmed when the gunfire stopped and the rifle's holder fell back away from the corner.
A quick glance back told me Nate had reached the Gauntlet and was tucked off to the south side of the building, his rifle trained on the ingressing Raiders.
Turning, I ran toward him, fast enough to not waste time, but slow enough to engage if something appeared ahead of me.
Nothing did. Odd.
The ex-soldier was breathing deep and slow, trying to keep his breath and heart rate under control.
Once I reached him, we started to the northern wall of the Gauntlet. Nate was still watching for the Raiders who had tried to attack from the south.
If they'd posted regulars as guards and as first responders, that meant Lucas's men were likely being held in reserve to assist in an assault on me.
As we neared the northern side of the Gauntlet, the mezzanine Nate and the others had been watching from when I ran it came into sight. I pulled the barrel of my rifle up to clear it-
Three Raiders, heavily armed and armored. Lucas's men. A mounted belt-fed gun.
There was no way of knowing what caliber that was but if they can use that for suppressive fire, we're in trouble.
My sights found the head of its user as the gun opened up. Its first round slammed into the wall just to the right of me as I squeezed my stolen rifle's trigger. A spray of blood shot from behind him and the gunfire stopped as suddenly as it started.
Two booming reports sounded a split second later. One of the high-caliber bullets kicked a spray of pulverized concrete up a few centimeters from my right foot. The second one hit me square in the chest. My shields flared and their energy dropped by a third. Another shot boomed from the far side of the mezzanine and a round punched through the wall just behind me.
So there were at least three up there. Probably more.
In this situation, I'd normally fall back and find a better path but we don't have that option. They're trying to box us in and they haven't employed their primary attack vector yet. We can't afford to let them funnel us.
Dropping to a knee, I sighted on the sniper furthest to my left and pulled the trigger three times, as fast as the rifle would cycle. Another bullet passed through the air my head had been an instant before. None of them would have had time to cycle their weapons. So that means at least a fourth.
My target jerked and fell backward, rifle falling over the edge of the mezzanine and slamming to the concrete floor half a dozen meters below.
That might still be usable.
The second Raider up there was just beginning to shift, pulling his rifle off of the railing and backing away from the edge of the platform when I drew a bead on him.
A bullet found the left side of his head and he dropped out of sight.
At the same moment, Nate started shooting from behind me.
We were running out of time and space and this fight had only just begun. We didn't have good cover from the attacking forces from the direction of our temporary 'cell'.
I needed to be able to move and fight my fight. As good of a conventional soldier as Nate was… I can't do that with him. But if I leave, he's a dead man.
Deacon. Where was he? The guy had 15 minutes to prepare, he knows where we are and, by this point, there's no way he doesn't know what's happening.
Turning back to the Raiders who were coming in from the south, I slid toward Nate to provide him with at least a little physical cover. Several had made it into one of the maintenance pits and three more were running for one closer to us. They'd have good positions to lay down covering fire for their friends to move up.
Nate had dropped two but there were a lot more coming now.
We both fired on the trio of advancing Raiders but one of them was able to make it to the pit.
Shots started pouring from the first fireteam that had made it to cover. Most of them were inaccurate, slamming into the ground, the wall behind us, and even the ceiling. One glanced off my recharged shields. The machine gun on the mezzanine roared to life again, blowing holes in the corner of the Gauntlet and marching their way steadily toward us.
Can't stay here. Have to move.
There were only two places for us to go: the Gauntlet and the mezzanine. The Gauntlet was a bottleneck and who knows what other traps might be inside. Plus, the area we were at now was the gun course. All of it was cheap wooden walls. Nothing that would stop a bullet.
Mezzanine it is.
Swapping magazines for a new one, I grabbed Nate and yanked him behind me. More gunfire came from the advancing Raiders as the holes the machine gun was blowing into the wall marched closer.
The ex-soldier figured out what was going on and dropped into a crouch just as the holes reached us.
They passed above his head, two caught me in the back, dropping my shields to three-quarters. Whatever it was, it wasn't anywhere near as powerful as the sniper rifles.
I turned to Nate and pointed toward the underside of the mezzanine. The stairs were on the far wall and the structure would give us cover from the Raiders coming in behind us.
"On my cover!" I shouted.
Nate nodded his understanding.
"Go!"
I stepped out, keeping myself between the ex-soldier and the mass of bodies. It would open him up to the shooters on the mezzanine but there were fewer of them and-
My sights found the new gunner and I put a bullet into the bridge of his nose.
Another round slammed into my back as I switched my aim to another rifleman above us.
His aim had dropped to the ex-soldier as he emerged from the Gauntlet's cover. He was the next one down. The others turned their aim to me but, by the time they managed to open fire, another was dead.
Nate passed under the mezzanine and out of their line of fire a second later.
Two more bullets hit me and my shields were at half.
Time to move.
After one more shot at the Raiders above, I sprinted toward the far wall.
"On me!" I barked as I reached Nate and turned for the stairs.
This had to be fast. Not only did we have to outpace the Raiders behind us, we had to get to the support team.
My pace was as fast as I felt Nate could keep up with, bounding up the stairs three at a time. I emerged onto the mezzanine a few seconds later and was met with gunfire from at least four targets.
Stay back. The thought was more a prayer than an order since Nate couldn't read them but I couldn't stay in the line of fire and Nate would die if he came up the stairs in the middle of it.
Sliding to the right, I fired as I moved away from the wall and toward the edge of the overlook.
My first shot was rushed, hitting a Raider only a few meters from me in the chest. His armor caught it but he still dropped to the ground, clutching at the impact.
The second round found a Raider's head. The third and fourth hit another one next to him, first in the chest then, as he recoiled in pain, the head.
Gunfire from the staircase erupted behind me and the fourth Raider dropped.
Once I finished the one I'd downed, the mezzanine was clear.
The modicum of relief that tried to worm its way into my head vanished a split second later when the steel grating under my boots started trembling.
I twisted, pulling my rifle around-
To see the massive armored Raider charging at me.
He was moving much faster than any normal human would have been able to unassisted. The entire mezzanine was shaking under his weight.
There was no time to move and, with the helmet now on, my stolen rifle was not punching through that armor.
All I could do was brace for the impact and control our fall.
So, as the charging Raider barreled into my chest, I twisted, shunting some of his momentum to the side. That turned what would have been a spear-like tackle into a more awkward collision. He wasn't able to grab me like he had wanted either.
But we were still both heading for the edge of the mezzanine.
My side slammed into the railing, ripping it off of the steel floor. The impact jarred me but it wasn't enough to stop my momentum.
Me and the Raider were launched into the air and down a six or seven-meter drop to the concrete floor below.
The ground rushed up to meet us. I twisted again, pulling myself around so my right knee was in his chest, and shoved. The maneuver separated him from me and provided some sideways momentum just before we hit the ground.
As little as it was, I turned the sideways momentum into a tumbling roll. It put me back under the mezzanine and out of the line of fire from the still-approaching Raiders from the south.
I was back on my feet an instant later, moving toward the staircase again. Regardless of what this guy wanted with me and what the Raiders had planned, I wasn't interested in a prolonged fight here.
My opponent was still getting to his feet when I reached the base of the stairs-
And then threw myself away from them as a brilliant red beam of light slashed through the space I'd been in and melted the first two steps.
There was only one thing I've seen that would produce that sort of beam.
An assaultron. These assholes had an Assaultron.
That just made things a lot more interesting.
My eyes followed the beam back to its source. The robot was charging toward me from the opposite side of the Gauntlet, face still glowing red from the heat of its blast.
There's no way.
Even if it was completely inconsequential to the ongoing fight, I couldn't help but notice that Assaultron, with its head armor segmented into four quadrants at the lens, looked exactly like KLEO.
The Raider was just getting back to his feet. He wasn't quite as stable as he'd been a moment ago. That fall, without a proper landing, would have been enough to incapacitate a regular person. His armor no doubt dampened the impact but there was only so much it could do. Whatever drug cocktail he had in him must have helped keep him functional after that.
KLEO was still charging, manipulators raised and pointed at me. Didn't take a genius to figure out what came next.
My legs coiled and I leaped to the right. Red lasers speared through the space I'd just been. The path placed the armored Raider between me and KLEO.
It also took me toward the sniper rifle dropped by the one I'd shot.
My opponent realized that and lumbered unsteadily toward me.
I reached it a second later and scooped the weapon up off the ground. Its scope was destroyed but everything else looked in working order.
Chambering a new cartridge, I pulled it up and did my best to aim at the Raider without a sight. The large caliber rifle boomed as its brake visibly dispersed gas and fire in a flash. But the shot went wide, blowing a hole in the Gauntlet's wall over my target's left shoulder.
Shooting without a sight is something I've done, something I even trained for. That doesn't make it a sure thing, especially when firing a gun I've never touched before.
Both of them were bearing down on me now and I could hear the cascading charge coming from the approaching Raider hoard. Even if the Raiders weren't individually competent, this might be one of the most difficult positions I've ever been in. This many variables, this many enemies, this many unknowns, with people's lives depending on what I do in the next 30 seconds.
Despite everything, I felt a smile slip onto my face.
Even though there was a myriad of things happening around me, it all seemed calm and peaceful. With everything going on, all I had to do was fight my way through this.
Fighting is something I know.
These are the moments I spent my life preparing for.
As I shifted to my right, keeping the armored Raider between KLEO and me, they both seemed to slow to a crawl. A lance of red light speared past my opponent but I moved out of the way just before it could splash against my shields.
The Raider was almost on top of me. Perfect.
While I moved, I chambered another round in the large-caliber rifle. Even through the tiny slits they'd left for his eyes, I could feel his glare burning into me. He didn't care about the weapon.
I brought it up as he closed to within two meters. At this range, the barrel was practically pressed against his chest.
It boomed again, the bullet slamming straight into the thick steel plating.
And I let the rifle go, allowing my momentum to take me out of his path.
For an instant, everything felt like it snapped back to full speed. The massive bullet's impact was enough to spin the Raider off course as he careened by me, taking the rifle with him. KLEO was right behind, manipulators still up, lens in her face shining a brilliant red.
My body moved on its own. It knew what to do.
In the next moment, I'd changed my course and lunged straight into the charging assaultron. It was heavy, but not as heavy as me.
KLEO was knocked backward and her primary laser blasted into the ceiling above us. The heat was still enough to flare my shields, even if it didn't drain them.
Then the other Raiders were at the corner. A torrent of bullets started pouring from the multitude of rifles. I slipped to the right, avoiding most of the gunfire-
Their reports were drowned by a wash of crashing gunfire from above me. I saw the first three Raiders at the corner turned into paste before the rest were able to retreat.
Nate had gotten on the mounted gun.
Before I could send the ex-soldier a silent thanks, I felt the Raider from my right closing in on me. My attention shifted back to my fight. Turning as I shifted back to the left I-
A blast hit me from the right. It was hard enough to send me stumbling toward the wall and drop my shields to half.
KLEO. That fucking robot. How had it recovered that quickly?
Didn't matter. The Raider was on top of me. He slammed into my left side, wrapping his arms around my chest and trapping my right arm to my body.
And then he lifted. I could hear the actuators groaning, and feel his suit's frame struggling under the weight. I don't think, even with the armor, he's as strong as I am in mine.
That didn't matter. Not right now. I had no leverage and he had me in the air.
The next thing I knew, he had lunged forward and pile-drove me into the ground. A regular person would have been crushed under the impact. As it was, my helmet rebounded off the concrete hard enough to flash my vision white.
But that didn't stop me from feeling the ground heave under me like someone had drop-kicked the building.
Or someone had just set off an explosion very close to me.
My vision cleared an instant later and I noticed, past the armored Raider on top of me, a billowing cloud of smoke rising from the corner where the encroaching force had been. Most of the concrete and steel that had made up the corner was gone.
What the hell happened?
Either someone had screwed up big time or Deacon had made his entrance.
It was something I could worry about after I didn't have this Raider and an actual killer robot trying to kill me.
With my left arm still free and the armored Raider still clinging to my chest, I brought the back of my elbow down on his head. Hard.
The strike was hard enough to send an impact reverberating up my arm and into my shoulder and chest.
But the Raider just tightened his grip.
I brought my elbow down again, harder. It was enough force to turn a human's skull into dust two times over.
That got him to slacken. Not enough to get me free.
Sparks exploded from the Raider's back and, an instant later, I was loose.
Rolling away, I caught a glimpse of Nate and Deacon crouched above the hole KLEO had made in the mezzanine, rifles trained on the now struggling Raider.
They must have hit something important.
While I was getting to my feet, I also noticed that blast had taken out one of the mezzanine's rear supports. It was starting to sag enough the back was separating from the wall.
If it took any more abuse, it would probably fall.
We needed to move.
Another blast rocketed into me. I managed to throw myself into a slide but enough caught my left arm to drop my shields. The bleating alarm started sounding in my helmet.
That was a distraction I didn't need right now. I silenced it and shoved myself back to my feet.
"MOVE!" I shouted at the two men above me, waving toward the far side of the mezzanine. Both of them looked like they knew what was going on. Before they left, Deacon threw something at me through the hole. I caught it. A remote and-
I smiled again.
A detonator and a small brick of plastic explosive, wired and armed.
It wasn't enough to break through the armor on that suit unless I put it on him. Then I'd still have KLEO and however many Raiders were chasing me to deal with.
No, I needed to end this now. We don't have time.
The Raider was getting back to his feet. His left arm hung limply by his side. KLEO, even though I'd only hit her once, was looking rough. The armor over her face was melted into slag and sparks were shooting out of the holes. She must have been firing that laser faster than it was designed.
Nate and Deacon cleared the sagging mezzanine.
The mezzanine…
It might not kill them, but it would incapacitate them long enough to get clear.
In the half-second it took me to locate the remaining wall support for the platform over us, KLEO was back on her feet too. Her overworked lens was starting to glow again.
I threw the brick of plastic explosives at the steel beam on the far wall. There was only a second or two to get past the two of them and out from beneath it.
My legs drove into the ground and I lunged for the narrow gap between the two of-
The Raider must have anticipated the maneuver. He half-lunged, half-stumbled into my path. I drove my shoulder into his but he was too heavy to move out of the way. We both crashed to the ground.
Guess I'm not getting clear.
My thumb hit the firing stud.
Whatever explosive Deacon had given me was powerful. I felt the concussion slam into my armor like a hammer blow. It was more than enough to destroy the remaining support.
Unfortunately, the mezzanine was more structurally compromised than I thought.
That blast was a signal to the rest of it to crumble. There was no time to get out from under the collapsing platform.
Rolling into my stomach, I pulled myself into a ball and shielded my head.
Then several tons of rusted steel slammed down on us.
It reminded me of the church. I had flashbacks of the roof collapsing on me. Pain shooting through my right arm from a chunk landing on my shoulder, just between the armor plates.
Or- had that just happened?
Something slammed into my arm again. If it hadn't been covering my helmet, whatever that had been would have hit me in the head.
And there was the sound.
Between the explosion and the apocalyptic cascade of metal colliding with concrete, it sounded like the world was ending. Again.
But as soon as it started, it was over. The entire platform had collapsed at once, its 200-year-old structure suffering from constant neglect and corrosion.
I pulled my hands away from my head and pain shot through my right arm. Pain. Pain I could deal with so long as I could still move my arm.
The same thing happened with my right hip and knee when I moved my leg.
It was agonizing. More than when the church had fallen on me. I felt my eyes sting and my jaw clench. An involuntary groan ground passed my gritted teeth.
But I can move. I have to move.
Jamming the pain into a corner as far away as I could, I planted my hands under me and shoved myself upward. Debris clattered off of my back for an instant before I hit something heavier. There was enough room for me to kneel though, so I got my good leg under me, pressed my back against the debris, and shoved.
Whatever it was moved a fraction.
Despite the pain, I heaved again.
This time, the debris crashed to the side. Then I was free-
Something clamped around my right ankle and yanked.
I just managed to stifle another groan as a fresh wave of agony crashed through the barrier I'd put around it.
That must be the Raider.
Dropping to the ground, I caught a glimpse of him trapped under the rubble beside me. It didn't look like he could move, but he'd latched onto my leg. His head was turned toward me, eyes burning through the narrow slits in his helmet.
Asshole, I don't have time to put up with any more of your bullshit.
With pain still radiating from my leg, I twisted it so his elbow was visible in the rubble.
Then I launched an awkward snap-kick at it.
The point of my armored boot connected with the joint. That area hadn't been as well-reinforced as it should have been, apparently. It snapped in the wrong direction with an audible crack and, for the first time since this all started, the Raider screamed in pain.
An instant later, KLEO appeared above me. She was missing an arm, dragging herself over the rubble-
But the lens in the center of her mostly-melted face was glowing bright.
"Got you, sweetheart", she droned, her synthetic voice, somehow, dripping satisfaction.
Like hell.
My hands shot forward and I wrapped my right around the lens. It hurt. It was pure agony. My shoulder screamed in protest. If I had to guess, I'd strained my rotator cuff at the very least.
And that didn't matter.
The ambush that almost killed Nate. My attack on Goodneighbor that left innocent people dead. The frustration and anger and regret I felt from that night when I went back to try and get their cooperation.
… That was my fault. But this goddamn robot put it in motion.
"Fuck you, KLEO", I hissed.
I ripped the lens out of her head.
Its glow sputtered and died. The robot swung its remaining manipulator at me but, with my legs now free, I was able to shove myself away from the strike.
Grabbing its remaining arm, I jerked the assaultron down into the hole with me.
KLEO struggled but she wasn't strong enough to break free.
Then, like the assaultron in the Institute, I wrapped one hand around her melted face plates, one around her collar, and pulled.
A fresh wave of pain shot through my arm but there was a sharp metallic snap, and I wrenched her head out of its mount, trailing wires and broken pieces of her neck. Her body went limp.
Now I was on another clock. I didn't have time to appreciate the kill, no matter how much I wanted to. I had to go now.
With another groan, I shoved myself out of the hole and to my feet.
Pain stabbed through my right leg but I had to run. Raiders were starting to funnel around the corner and head in my direction.
Trying to remember how long I have was pointless. It wouldn't help me get out of the blast radius.
My right leg balked at the exertion but I scrambled over the ruins of the mezzanine and raced toward the far end of the motor pool. Gunfire exploded from behind, bullets flying through the air around me. A few ricocheted off of the back of my armor but none of them were large enough to be a penetration risk.
The pain had spread and, by the time I reached the opposite side of the Gauntlet, everything was throbbing.
And then another, larger explosion rocked the concrete floor under my boots. The Gauntlet's walls shielded me from the worst of the shockwave, but the air still concussed like it had been hit with a sledgehammer. Light burst into the motor pool, for an instant casting harsh shadows across everything in sight. The sound would have been deafening without my helmet. Anyone nearby would have likely had their eardrums blown.
As suddenly as it had started, the detonation was over. Dust and debris rained down from above but I was still moving.
There was still a lot that needed to happen before we were safe.
I made for the motor pool's eastern exit, where Nate and I were escorted in. There were a scattered handful of dead Raiders gathered there but, unsurprisingly, most of them had been engaged in the effort to contain me.
Both Nate and Deacon were just inside the partially opened sliding door. I could hear the sounds of echoing gunfire pouring through. And… something else. I couldn't tell what. It was under the reports, but it was there.
They glanced at me as I slid to a stop beside them. Nate couldn't hide the relief in his face.
"Status", he asked.
That… is a good question. I hadn't checked.
Slipping…
Pulling up the diagnostics on my armor-
… Shit.
My shields were down. The redundant power couplings were showing a fault. Some other major system failure was going to happen eventually. Just sucks that it's here and now.
On top of that, I'd guessed right; my shoulder was injured, but it was my AC joint, not the rotator. My hip flexor was also showing a bad strain. The MCL in my knee had a much more moderate sprain.
"Marginal", I grunted and I couldn't keep the strain out of my voice. "In a lot of pain."
Deacon pulled two injectors from a pouch on his belt. "MedX."
Drugs aren't something I like to rely on but now isn't the time for ego.
Taking them from the Railroad operative, I snapped the cap off each of them and applied them both to an injection port just beneath my armpit.
Judging by the looks both of them gave me, two at once was a lot.
"It'll be fine."
Deacon shrugged. "You know your body better than me." He handed me a rifle.
The injuries were relatively minor soft tissue. No tears but I'd have to be careful to keep them from turning into tears. I don't think I'll be getting high-quality surgery out here.
"Status of the team?" I asked as I took the offered gun.
"Jackson, (two more) went with our new friend Buck to break him out. Kent went to your cell to help set them up with weapons and a defensible position." He glanced at his wrist. There was an old-fashioned watch strapped to it. Was that new? "Our support should be arriving any minute." He shot me a wry smirk. "Four Vertibirds loaded for bear. It's all they'd send our way"
How they did that is beyond me. I'll have to figure it out when this is over.
"Unfortunately", Nate interjected, "we have a lot of Raiders between us and everyone else."
"Sounds like the other prisoners have started the festivities", Deacon muttered.
I felt the MedX kick in between "Raiders" and "else." And, in those few seconds, I felt perfectly fine, the throbbing in my right side was gone. Combat stimulants can work wonders but this effect is exactly why I don't like using them. It's almost impossible to tell when you worsen an existing injury.
Worry about that later. Take it slow, do it right.
"We aren't far from the support team", I said. "I'll make a hole in their forces here, we slip through, stay to the west side of the base until we reach them. Once the Brotherhood starts their attack, we go with our plan."
Nate frowned. "You weren't injured in that plan."
"That's how combat works. You know that"
"I do", the ex-soldier replied, "but we're talking about thousands of Raiders."
"It will work. I'm not uninterested in dying to Raiders." That would be embarrassing.
"We don't-" Nate cut himself off with a grunt. "Alright. Let's do this."
Peering out of the door, I saw at least two dozen Raiders waiting for us. They were spread around the open lot and in the buildings beyond. Gunfire was raging to the north.
After the fight I'd just been through, 20-25 Raiders in open space without having to contend with personnel and a plan specifically meant to counter me felt like a cooldown.
That can't be how I treat this, though. People's lives are at risk and, like Nate said, I'm injured. If I slip up, I could wind up dead too.
"Is this the only exit on this side of the building?" I asked.
Deacon shook his head. "No, but the others both end up in this parking lot."
When we'd been brought here, Deacon had circled to the south side of the building.
"Where did you come in?"
"A service door in the alley between this and the building behind it. We'd end up here all the same."
Alright. Shooting my way out of here. Original? No. Effective? Yes.
"Give me 15 seconds", I said.
Nate still looked dubious but he nodded. "Copy that…"
I tested my arm and leg. Stiff but no pain; not for now, at least. I knew from experience that didn't mean it was gone, it was just being blocked. The stim would help keep inflammation down too, keep the tissue loose, and minimize the risk of further injury. Care was still necessary.
More concerning was my lack of shields. Not the first time I've fought without them but it would be the most dangerous.
Thinking about it won't get me anywhere. I shouldered my rifle and peered through the meter-wide opening in the door. There were five Raiders arrayed around the parking lot. All of them were using rusted hulks that were either too difficult to move or too corroded to be useful as cover. None of it was good cover.
Squeezing the trigger, my first shot took the closest Raider in the shoulder. I would have liked a headshot but it was obscured from view.
A scream split the air just beneath the gunfire and they fell away in a spray of blood.
My aim switched to the next one, this Raider had her rifle propped up on what looked like a car's now empty window frame. Her head was clearly visible.
The third managed to fire back but the round punched a hole through the thin steel door a meter to my right. My shot hit him in the neck.
Before the body hit the ground, gunfire poured in from the other Raiders around the exit.
Both Nate and Deacon hurried to take cover while I shoved through the small opening and sprinted to the left. I pushed as hard as I felt was safe on my injured leg. Whatever was in that injector was good. The tendons in my knee and hip were straining but I couldn't feel any pain. It made focusing on my job easier. It also meant I could exacerbate the injuries more easily.
Two rounds caught me in the right side before I managed to reach cover, another rusted hulk that may have been a cargo truck in the distant past. It was large enough to provide several different angles to fire from.
15 seconds. I'd given myself 15 seconds.
Dropping to my knees, I slid to a stop behind the deformed remains of the vehicle's bed. There was enough room between the frame and the ground to fire through.
I pulled the new rifle back up and went to work.
Aim, fire. Aim, fire. Reposition. Repeat.
By the time 10 of the 15 seconds had passed, five more targets were down and another was wounded.
The incoming fire had slackened and what was left was focused on me. Good.
As I rounded to the front of the truck, I sighted on a pair of Raiders that had taken cover on the far side of the parking lot behind a concrete barrier. Both were visible, one was just putting a new magazine in her rifle. Both were dead before she was finished.
Compared to the fight I'd been through under the mezzanine, this was easy. These were just Raiders. They weren't assaultrons, they weren't Lucas's well-trained and organized forces, and they weren't the Raider in power armor specifically built to fight me. They were just regular, drug-addicted assholes overconfident from attacking unprepared people only trying to survive in this hellhole.
And their tactics and fighting showed it.
15 seconds gone, seven more Raiders dead, one wounded, and the others didn't seem to want any part of the fight.
Four were running from their cover, trying to put distance between us.
There wasn't a hint of the guilt I felt over the prisoners as I shot them in their backs. Not only were they Raiders, leaving them alive would leave more potential enemies we'd have to fight. It may be a fraction of a percent of the total force here, but that didn't matter. Shrinking that number wherever possible was worth it.
At least that's what I told myself as the bodies dropped.
The sound I'd heard earlier was resolving itself into the all too familiar beat of Vertibirds, their rotors pounding at the air on their approach. A quick glance East told me they were almost over that side of the base. They were coming in from the northeast corner, high and spread out to make them as difficult to hit as possible. Each was at least 200 meters from the others with 1000 meters' elevation.
Despite the ongoing fight, I allowed myself a moment to marvel at the sight. Not because the Vertibirds themselves were impressive, but because Dez had somehow done the equivalent of calling in an air support wing from the enemy.
The gunfire around me had completely dropped away. Besides the two hits I took on my way to cover, neither of which damaged the hard armor they hit, I hadn't been shot.
These guys were either worse than I remember, or they were panicking. Either way, I doubt it would last long.
A glance back at the motor pool's exit saw Deacon running toward the rusted pile I was using for cover. As soon as he made it, Nate was making his sprint.
It, apparently, had been just in time. More reports echoed from inside the building behind him. What was left of the forces in there had finally found the will to chase us. No telling how many of them KLEO's self-destruct had killed.
Which is why it's a terrible design feature.
Neither of them looked like they'd taken a hit on the way.
"We're clear to that row", I said, pointing west at the line of buildings that separated us from where we'd been held. There was a lot of gunfire coming from that direction. "Once we're across, take up position, provide support, I'll enter and clear for the rest of the team. If you get caught by them", I jerked my head toward the motor pool, "come in behind me and cover the entrance."
"Understood", Nate said. Deacon nodded his assent.
I started across first. The other two weren't far behind. We had to do this quickly. It won't take long for the Raiders behind us to catch up. Nothing is keeping them from following besides their own nerves at this point.
We used the buildings, spaced out as they were, to move south toward the sounds of gunfire. Or, at least these sounds of gunfire. Besides the other fighting to the north, I could hear the deeper, more powerful reports coming from the Vertibirds' chin guns.
How many prisoners were they keeping here?
Just as we turned east again to make for where the team was being held, a barrage of shots erupted from behind us.
"Shit", Nate hissed as he spun around the corner to join Deacon and me.
So much for covering from this side of the street…
"How are you holding up?" I asked. Normally, I would have considered it unforgivable to pause in the middle of a fight for this but, now, the two of them would have to enter the building with me. The ex-soldier had to be prepared for that.
Nate held up a hand and shook it side to side. "Legs don't feel great. Can still shoot a gun."
"Good enough. Stay close, use me for cover if needed."
"Copy that."
We hugged the wall and hurried east toward our team. Now we had people on both sides. I could deal with one direction. Two would be a little much with Nate and Deacon in tow and without a defensible position.
Once we were at the edge of the building, I glanced around the corner to find the street outside our former prison crowded with at least a dozen Raiders. They were all focused on what was going on inside. That's where the sounds of an intense gunfight were coming from. Either they weren't in communication with the forces responsible for us, didn't care we'd escaped, or both.
It didn't matter to me.
"You both two have the six on my right", I said. "On my mark."
I gave them a heartbeat to prepare before moving out into the street.
"Mark."
Stepping left to clear their line of fire, I started in the middle and worked my way out.
The first two Raiders never knew what was going on, an unfortunate side effect of the sounds of gunfire coming from everywhere.
By the time I hit the third, the others were starting to realize what was going on. The fourth was dead before any of them could react. The fifth was starting to turn toward me when he caught a bullet to the side of his head. The sixth was facing me, eyes as wide as possible as a round entered her left one.
Nate and Deacon had downed four of their targets and, as I shifted my aim to assist, the fifth, then the sixth were dead.
Without a word, the three of us broke into a run. Time was chasing us forward. Right now, we have the violence of action on our side. That wouldn't last long.
In the few seconds it took us to reach the short flight of stairs leading up to the building, a Raider appeared at the door. He looked confused when he saw me a few meters from him. It was the same look that was on his face when a bullet entered just beneath his nose, traveling upward, and blew what little brains he had onto the ceiling behind him.
"Hold", I barked as I bounded up the steps all at once and straight into the building. I was greeted by four more Raiders. Two were turned to me, shock on their faces, no doubt surprised to see the back of their friend's head explode.
They joined him before they could respond to my entry, followed closely by the other, less attentive ones still facing away.
"On me!" I shouted back out the door.
Nate and Deacon appeared through the door an instant later, rifles up and at the ready.
It only took a moment to reach the hall that would lead us to the cafeteria. The Raiders we'd just gone through appeared to be their rear guard. Good on them for knowing enough to have a rear guard. Unfortunately, they left people at their backs who wouldn't do their damn jobs.
As arrogant as it might sound, it wouldn't have mattered. Close quarters and nothing that would get through my armor, even with compromised shields.
The Raiders were taking cover from the cafeteria in various doorways and adjoining halls. One was at the base of the stairs, blindly firing around the corner. He was more of a danger to his comrades than he was to our people.
Not that it was hard to see why they were reluctant to advance. There were eight or nine bodies in the hall, some behind cover, some in the open. They were trying to push through a fatal funnel against at least 25 people in the cafeteria. There was another hallway on the far side of the cafeteria. It was probably likewise clogged.
The support team was holding position, waiting.
Better not keep them waiting.
With the Raiders in this hallway taking cover from the support team, they were wide open to us.
Clearing out the dozen or so remaining Raiders only took 20 seconds.
"CLEAR!" I shouted after I put a bullet into the last Raider's head. "Coming in!"
The gunfire wasn't gone. I could still hear it echoing from down the hall. Looks like I'd been right about them trying to use both points of ingress.
From the sounds of it, they'd been just as successful on the other side.
"You're good!" a call came back. It sounded like Able.
I slipped down the hallway, checking each Raider as I went to make sure none of them were playing dead. The last thing I needed now was to let one of them surprise me.
But no, each of them had at least one fatal wound.
We reached the cafeteria without incident. Both cells were open, the support team and prisoners were all out. Half of them were on the other side, still fighting. Able was standing just inside the door.
"We'll save the 'welcome back's until after we deal with that", he called out over the noise, motioning his rifle toward the other hall.
"Agreed", I replied. "Keep everyone here, we had more coming in after us."
The operative smiled. "I think we can take care of that." He pulled another detonator that looked exactly like the one Deacon had given me. "Everyone, brace!"
He waited a few seconds, then hit the trigger.
The entire building shuddered as an explosion rocked it. Whatever they'd packed the front with was powerful It shook the floor under my boots and, a moment later, a plume of concrete dust rushed down the hall toward us. The sound of the blast was almost as impressive. Even though the gunfire was only a dozen meters away, its boom drowned the fighting out until the rumbling subsided.
"That-" Nate managed before he erupted into a fit of coughing. "That- was… thorough." He probably couldn't hear himself yet.
It was. And it probably meant we wouldn't have to worry about further attacks from this side. Even so.
"Keep watch," I said loud enough, hopefully, for them to hear. "I'll deal with the other side."
Our clock reset now that we had the support team, but it was still ticking down.
A/N: KLEO. KLEO makes her triumphant return and subsequent exit. Now, some subtext with that one that might not have been obvious is she's the one who was supplying Raiders with better weapons. I had a lot of fun writing that fight scene. It was easily the most Damon has struggled in a fight during this story (except for, maybe, the Deathclaws). But yes, the escape has started and it is violent. On purpose. This was both cathartic for me to write and, I think, cathartic for the characters to do. Especially Damon. If it isn't clear at this point, while he may have some reservations, he won't lie to himself about who/what he is. If he can do what he enjoys to people like the Raiders, he has no problem enjoying it. That's enough from me, I hope you all enjoyed and I'll see everyone next time!
Next Chapter: 5/24, The Hill