The rain was running into my earpiece so badly that all I could hear was crackling and bass. I knew that Casper was getting pissed, but there really wasn't anything I could do about it. I knew she'd blow a gasket if I asked her to repeat it a third time…
"Say again. Couldn't get that last part."
"You WHATt? Are you fucking deaf or just fucking stupid? I SAID T [ ssssssshhhssssttt] HAS BEEN [tssssh-VERED AND [sssssshssshssstttt-crackle] STILL IN THE BUILDING. HOW MUCH OF THAT DIDN'T YOU [ssssssssssssss]. OVER!"
I shook my head and shrugged at K'rth. He was always a great focus point for stability in our happy little squad. For a while I thought it was because he didn't speak the language, but that would have been too much to ask for. It turns out that he mastered sarcasm before he could walk.
"Got it. Cole out." I said and snapped the mike from my ear, letting it hang loose. Nix picked up a set of cheap hands-off mikes for us to use on the last BPN and mine has never worked. At least I knew now to never let the wraith go shopping for equipment, since she always falls for the subliminal advertising. I wondered if there was some kind of conspiracy to screw with only normal human on the team. "Man, is she pissed."
"She needs to relax, but that will happen once she'd dead."
Oh yeah. I forgot to mention that K'rth is also a devout optimist.
"Tell her that. At least we haven't heard any shooting from Mac's area yet. Maybe Obie can keep him calm this time."
"Yes. Let's hope so."
We were setting to pick up a Monarch cop who had started pushing Shatter in the local area. I never had any love for the Monarchs, but anyone who is selling crap like that for Darknight has it coming. We had started with the low end of the foodchain and figured we could work it to the source at the top. Beyond being our only option, the two boys could probably get their rocks off pounding Interceptors again. I was never sure if anyone but myself or K'rth had ever seen a DN before, but who knows? If you listen to the news, they're everywhere. I try not to think about how well SLA is doing if we've got so many strong enemies at every door. The math just doesn't wash.
"[ssssssssst-e've got movement on the street. Headsup Mac [shhst] your way."
The voice was Gaelyn's. She had taken a position on the roof across from the entry point of the perimeter. The area used to be part of the St. Charles convent for troubled girls. I understand that it was the home for almost fifty kids and half again as many nuns. Around four or five years ago, a cognate came in and massacred everyone, then fortified the ruins. I wasn't even in Meny then, but K'rth told me the story. He was in the third squad that was sent in to clean out the bastards and still bears the scars. It must have been one hell of a fight.
Now the only thing that makes the convent different from a ruined tenement are old arches, some ornate stonework, and the statue of someone's guardian Saint administering to children in the middle of the courtyard. I scanned it with the binoculars and saw that the arms had been chopped off along with the heads of each of the kids. Sick bastards. The only thing left living in this area that I knew about were rats and roaches. Sounded like a good place for a covert meeting.
"Got' im" boomed across my mike. For some reason, Obie's mike and mine didn't seem to have a problem. Must be some of that anti-human anti-Karma sentiment I keep hearing about. DL is still keeping the ebb-impaired and unborn down I guess.
"How many?" I asked and flipped the binoculars to IE mode and saw the structures in the green tint. The targets still weren't in my line of sight so I had to rely upon other eyes. I glanced over at the Shaktar and he had pulled a Blitzer in one hand and a Power Disk in the other.
"Two. Wait – no four, five. I got five targets" Gaelyn said.
"What can't you fucking count? [ssshhst-ing stupid Ebon, you're [sshshsht] as a damn human!"
"Just remember [sshssssss] who's got the sniper rifle, bitch."
Casper had one of the worst attitudes I've ever seen for a Brainwaster. I mean, she really excels at being a complete jerk. She alternates which squad member catches hell for a given day, but always backs off before it goes too far. I never thought I'd be part of a squad when a Waster was in charge, but I stay because I enjoy everyone else's company. Some part of me hopes that the bitch will catch a slug, but I don't want to put it on my wish list yet.
"Keep it quiet, ladies" I said. I'd hate for the two of them to get into it. My money's on Gaelyn and her 30-30, but I'd hate to fill out the paperwork. Not to mention the fun of talking to Cloak. As usual things hit the fan right about the time I get into the "trash the Waster" fantasies…
"What the hell? Cole! Cole- MacReady is breaking from cover!" Gaelyn again.
"Shit, he was supposed to wait for the signal." I said as we leaned out. Sure as she said it, Angus was weaving between the burnt out buildings to come up on the group from behind. His kilt was flying and his sword was held overhead. He didn't seem to be yelling yet and so far no one had seen him but us.
"Let's go before he gets pasted," I said as I started forward. I snapped the stock into place on my Manger and flipped the safety to single shot. I cursed when I realized I loaded shot instead of slugs this afternoon. I'd probably nail the crazy Frother along with anyone else, but at least I had an underslung chopper as an alternate. The stupid fucker was nearly within striking distance.
"We all die sometime," K'rth commented and followed me.
So far, Casper hadn't started yelling orders to us so I figured (hopefully) that she must have been choking on her mike. That meant I probably had to step up again. It's funny when the leader of a squad is determined by a .1 SCL difference, but I wasn't complaining.
"Weapons free! Weapons free! Obie – take 'em down!" I yelled.
I vaulted over the courtyard's low wall and the point man saw us before we could drop into the shadow of the arch. The group scattered with the exception of one man who moved forward and crouched behind the statue. It looked like that damn Frother still hadn't been seen and was nearly on top of them. K'rth fired a shot off and crouched behind me.
The stonework above us pinged and rattled a few times as the shooter tried to nail us and we crouched further. A moment later I heard the boom of Gaelyn's 30-30 and her confirmation.
"Shooter down, sc-[sssssssshhh] for the good guys. Moving [sssssshshsh] two."
When I leaned around, I saw the Frother running on the heels of someone else into what had probably been the chapel at one time. He was screaming at the top of his lungs now and waving the sword like he was swatting flies. That damn fool was determined to get himself killed. I started to take off after him when K'rth motioned towards a path that led further into the area.
"Obie, blitz sweep and clear on the main structure. Team 2 is running West perimeter. Copy."
"O-kay."
I crossed the open ground and went flush against the edge of a commissary when I saw movement ahead. Something hit the wall and sprayed moldy cement and rust into my face. Crouching down, I aimed the shotgun around the corner, cocked the chopper and fired a round off low. A moment later there was a scream and a flurry of shots, then silence. K'rth risked a glance and nodded, then we went around the corner with me on point. I kicked the weapon away from the guy holding what was left of his feet and stomped him in the head for measure. Considering how many Ops use that tactic, it's amazing how soft company goons never armor their feet. Shoot low and get 'em every time. The bastard would live, but he wouldn't be walking anytime soon. Gotta love those chopper rounds.
As K'rth covered me, someone took a shot at him that blew a chunk out of the wall near his head. I fired a chopper back and it missed, sending a tangle of wire down range and just past the target's head. The look in his eyes was absolute fear and it looked like our man. He'd crap his drawers if he found out that his wife had sold him out to us for fifty Uni.
"We have the target" K'rth said into his mike and nodded. We ran after him and a second man, splashing through oily puddles and loose rock. The rain on the loose sheets of slate was slick as ice and I had to strain to keep my balance and not loose sight of them. The falling rain made them appear like phantoms in the mist just out of range.
Something stood up in front of me and I almost fired.
"What the fuck do you think you're-" he slurred. He must have been a squatter but I didn't have time for him. I hit him across the jaw with the stock of my shotgun and jumped over him as he fell. I think K'rth told him it was official SLA business or something and ordered him to stay unconscious. Smartass.
"They're over here! Two of them." Casper yelled. This time the voice was clear because she wasn't using the mike and was nearby. Somehow she had gotten ahead of them and turned the escape route into a dead end. In the distance I heard echoes of roars and automatic fire. It sounded like the boys had found more than a couple other two guys to tangle with. We had to take care of this and get over there in case it was more than the 714 and the Frother could handle.
I put my back to the edge of the wall and listened for a moment. There were hushed voices and the sound of a weapon being cocked. K'rth put his Powerdisk away and replaced the spent round in his Blitzer.
"Stephens. You can't get out of this so you might as well make this easy and-"
Something punched through the mortar to my side and I cursed. The stupid bastard knew we wanted him alive and we were going to have to do this the hard way. I pulled the collapsible mirror from my utility pouch and unfolded it. Looking carefully around the corner, I could see the two of them clearly as they looked for a way out. There wasn't an easy way to come at them, but they were completely trapped and knew it.
"YOU WON'T TAKE ME ALIVE, SLOP!"
"That your final answer, asshole?" I asked. Of course it's ALWAYS their final answer and they always say something stupid like "you won't take me alive, Slop!". Apparently he watches the same crappy TV shows that I do, but I bet he didn't know the next part.
"Wanna bet on that, asshole?"
I pulled the pin on the flashbang I had requisitioned a week ago and tossed it underhanded and low around the corner. None of that macho "pull the pin with your teeth and bean them with it" shit. My old man told me a story where someone threw one back at him after a guy in his unit overhanded a frag on Cross. Just because the old liar was never in the militia doesn't mean you can't learn something from a good story.
There was a bright flash, a boom, and a lot of flying trash. K'rth and I waited for a moment then stepped weapons first into the dust. With the red lines of our lasersights sweeping out paths, we found the bodies and kicked the weapons out of reach. Both the Monarch and a guy in a DN bodysuit were dazed out of their skulls. We cuffed them and bagged their weapons as evidence, being careful with the contraband. Between the two, there were about sixty doses of Shatter. More than enough vials survived the blast to get a nice recovery bonus.
I grinned at the soon to be ex-Monarch officer as I pulled him to his feet. He was badly disoriented and couldn't focus his eyes yet. Fluid drained from one ear and I figured it had blown his eardrum. I considered spinning him around until he threw up, but thought that might be a little too cruel even for a DN convert. Besides, K'rth wouldn't approve.
"It's a bitch when you're wrong isn't it?" I asked and pushed him ahead of me. K'rth followed dragging the unconscious Interceptor by the feet. I had seen him drag other subjects like this before and asked him about it once. He said that you treat a defeated foe accordingly and this one deserved to be treated like a sack of trash. Philosophy and warrior code aside, I figured it was more of a weight issue. The man in the bodysuit outweighed anyone in our squad except for Obie by a good forty pounds. By the time we had exited the alley, the roars and shooting had stopped. Somewhere in the distance I heard a siren and figured that the boys in Green were on their way.
"Just like normal," I said as we walked our prisoners out of the alley. "They always miss the party."
Some things, like the cold rain, never change.
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