Obie let out a low growl that rumbled across the open air like a shockwave.
That isn't normally a bad thing, except it happened right at the moment that everything had gotten so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop. Angus, who had been following close behind me gulped so loud that he sounded like a character in a kiddie cartoon. Everyone else had frozen and I think one of the Shivers mumbled something like "oh shit" right before someone took off the pause button.
Suddenly the Shivers and dockworkers scrambled backwards like roaches in light and Gael and K'rth opened fire, dropping two of them before they managed to get cover. Angus fired a couple rounds also and then kneeled next to me as I looked for a better angle. 12mm ammo is too damn expensive to waste on cover fire and I wanted to make every one of my slugs count.
The Shivers had left the big guy in the Crackshot alone in the open and he was fighting to unjam his Warmonger, ignoring us even as we opened up on him. That changed when Gael wound up a heavy blast and took him in the side of the head and spun him. I didn't see it happen, because I was crouched to load up one of my last two loads of HESH, but I heard him start yelling and firing with a smaller backup weapon. It sounded like one of those massive "Reaver" pistols you see on Vets occasionally and they're enough to make my Blitzer feel inadequate. While it's more than enough to punch through any of us, at least it wasn't a Warmonger loaded with HEAP.
"KACK 'EM!" Angus screamed as he fired back, sending chips of paint spitting off the Vet's armor plating. I rose and fired at the faceplate, catching him lower than I had intended and saw the HESH blast apart the outer layer around his chin. K'rth and Nix put their rounds in about the same area while Gael and Angus fired at the dockworkers and encouraged them to keep their heads down. For once tonight, we were working well as a team and that was usually a good clue that he-who-happens-to-wear-a-kilt was about to do something stupid. It turns out that I should have been watching the big guy instead and by the time I realized it, he was already a big dark blur.
Obie broke cover and rushed the Vet, taking a couple rounds at close range but still managing to knock him off his feet with the momentum. With a roar, he pushed into him, carrying him upwards and into a wall with a boom that rattled my teeth. Concrete and plaster crumbled around them and all I could see was a flurry of claws as the Chagrin tried to disarm him and crack the armor. The Vet punched and flailed back, losing every melee weapon he pulled under the hail of the Chagrin's attacks. The sounds of smashing metal and mortar mixed with the roars and screams in an echo that carried across the room. The wall behind them became a crater, streaked with blood and scorches from the close range hits.
The handful of Shivers that had been trading fire with Gael had retreated further when they saw the Chagrin coming, leaving the Vet completely without any cover fire as they looked for a better position. I couldn't take advantage of it when they broke cover because I didn't want to waste HESH on them and had to duck down to swap out my ammo. That was when the other half of our dynamic duo took advantage of my distraction and dropped his shotgun in my lap. Pulling his Claymore, he leapt past to go help Obie and I lunged after him but missed. He was already running across the open floor without cover before I could grab him and bullets chopped the pavement and the front of the crates behind him as he ran. He looked as oblivious as a kid running in a hard rain and didn't even get a scratch.
Something hot and hard knifed through the cheap crate in front of me and hit
home hard enough to take the wind out of me. I half slumped and half fell backwards, watching as the world spun and my vision shrunk into a dark tunnel. Shards of heat spiked across my chest and throat as I numbly traced the cracked laminate on my armor. I was relieved that the hole was dry, but I was still unsure how badly I was hit. There's nothing like a bullet wound to tell you to slow down and rethink things.
K'rth yelled when the Frother ran across his line of fire, but Nix bounded high and put two more rounds on the Vet before he blocked her too. Meanwhile, the suit of Crackshot wobbled like a boxer on the ropes as Obie continued to pound and tear at him. Blood was spewing from a hole at the side of the helmet and from another one at the leg, but then Angus was there and took him across the back of the knees. With a groan, the Vet stumbled and went down with their combined weight on top of him. I knew that if Bayer had managed to get anything better than these second stringers with sub-par kits, both of the boys and probably the rest of us would have been dead by now.
K'rth took cover next to me to reload and looked at me with concern until I nodded and waved him off. I still didn't have my breath back and was giving up hope that nothing was broken. The pounding heat from my breastbone was a dead give away that I hadn't gotten that lucky, so I popped a Kickstart Solo. I gave it a few moments to work while I tried to pull in more air and did the only thing I could - relax and listen to the gunfire and roars.
Regardless of what the ads say, Kickstart of any type screws with your mind and is hard on your body. It's also just plain unreal. Spasms and heat flowed across the injuries and splashed up the front of my neck to my face. Then there was the inevitable "pop" of things clicking back into place that rattles me so much. K'rth once told me that you can tell how bad you're hurt by how long the burn lasts and by counting the sounds, but I wasn't up to that. Considering that the pain was over almost as soon as it started, I had probably wasted the drug so I let out my breath. A wave of euphoria washed over me as the second part of the drug hit and it was time to get back to work.
I picked up the browbeater that the Chagrin had dropped simply because it was the weapon closest to me and held back the trigger, it sent a stream of tiny plastic balls into the area where I thought the Darknight crew might be. Obie and Angus were sitting ducks in the open and I had to give them cover fire in the cheapest way possible. The little spheres arced and bounced around like a pinball machine hard enough that they convinced someone to fire back, but unfortunately they shot at Obie instead of someone who had cover. Somehow they missed and I yelled to get the Frother and Obie' s attention, but they were still dismantling the Crackshot and ignored me. That was when someone fired back at us and scored another hit.
Gael yelped and fell, holding her thigh but Nix bounded over to pull her behind cover. I watched for a moment and caught a nod from her as she began her calculations telling me to keep shooting. My next burst took one of the Interceptors in the chest plate and made him flinch. It didn't do much damage, but it at must have stung enough to really tick him off. Yelling something about my mother, he opened up with a pair of handguns like a reject from an Orienta action movie, the slugs clicking and popping around me as I took cover. Finally K'rth raised up and popped him and I tossed the browbeater away.
"To hell with bringing a toy gun to a firefight", I grumbled as I popped the speedloader into my Blitzer. After all of the gunplay, I was really anxious to get close enough to ditch the firearms again because I hate being shot at and really hate getting hit. Looking over, I saw that Gael was fully healed again and saw her giving me the thumbs up.
That was when Casper and McNeil decided to make their entrance, circling around from the far end and coming in behind us to stay clear of anything hostile. They looked ok beyond being tired and mildly shot up and I wondered why in hell they didn't show up to help earlier. Oh yeah, that would have taken more courage than either of them had. On the bright side, pretty boy's 500cr armor paintjob was thoroughly trashed which meant at least one good thing had happened today. I ignored them and tried to find a target while K' rth reloaded again. The spasms still tickled across my chest and made me wince, but at least the pain was gone.
Nix had repositioned and been waiting for her shot, taking her target, a goon in a DN bodysuit square in the upper chest. He just sat down and fell over like he'd been kicked, and then someone else dragged him away behind cover. There were a few more shots from their side, but then everything went quiet again.
"I've got a hostage!" a Shiver said, stepping out with a dockworker in front of him and a gun to the guy's head. There was no way to tell if this was for real or not, but I didn't want to take the chance. The dockworkers didn't seem to have been held at gunpoint earlier, but I wasn't sure.
"So?" I yelled back.
"I'll blow his brains all over the concrete if you don't back off."
"Oi! stupid! " Angus yelled back, giving up on the dead vet and taking cover like a rational individual. "He's not part of the BPN, so he doesn't matter! Quit be'in a coward and fight like a man!"
Bracing my aim, I tried to sight in on the bad guy's head, but he kept weaving and wouldn't give me a clear shot. I wasn't so sure that I could hit him instead of the "hostage" at this range and the browbeater began to look really tempting again. I flexed my fingers and braced again, not quite happy with the range or the angle. An inch or two to my right and we'd be short one live one.
"You're saying that you would LET a hostage die?" he yelled.
No one answered and I concentrated on timing his steps. Someone around here probably had a live feed to Channel Resistance and I wasn't going to help with the propaganda.
"Well Sloperative? I didn't hear an answer!" he called out again.
"I really wish he'd shut up," Gael mumbled over her mike.
"I'm working on that," I said back.
"Want me to take 'em?" Nix purred, probably anxious to take down another one.
"No, he's mine," I answered.
K'rth looked over at me and nodded, so I went back to aiming while he moved to a better position. We'd be in far worse trouble if we let an Interceptor get away than if we killed an innocent and got nailed with a lawsuit. Deciding to take the shot, I let out half my breath and sighted in where his head kept appearing. When he dipped back into my point of aim, I gently squeezed the trigger and felt the recoil in my shoulder.
The hostage howled and bucked forward, holding the bloody stump that used to be his right ear and the Interceptor stumbled backwards with a shoulder wound. K'rth took the follow up shot and hit the Interceptor in the center of the chest, sending him backwards to rattle prone over a floor jack.
"Son-of-a-" I started, but didn't finish. The bullet had torn a nasty furrow along the side of the man's head and he fell to his knees wailing. I had come so close to killing the wrong man that I was shaking from either nerves or guilt. "Son of a." I started again, but it didn't help.
One of the remaining Shivers grabbed the poor guy and shoved a pistol to the side of his head again, dragging him screaming upright. That guy certainly was having a far worse day than I ever had and the sudden action brought me back to my senses. This time, the Interceptor was far more careful to avoid exposing himself and I didn't have a clear shot.
"If any one of you fire at me, I'll shoot him in the head. This goes double for you Cole."
"What? You'll shoot him twice?" I asked. The guilt was still there and fading, but my priorities were shifting to where they needed to be.
There wasn't any doubt about who this "Shiver" was and I tried to sight on the new target as I stepped clear of my cover and closed the distance. My hand was shaking with now with excitement, making the aim point float and I gritted my teeth with anticipation. So much of the trouble from my past week was about to be over with and all it would take was one well-placed bullet. Off to the left, I heard a low growl and knew we had cut off his escape options. All he could do was go was backwards into the darkness into what looked like a dead end and that's what he did. It was almost over.
When I thought about it, I wondered how the bastard could dodge Cloak's long arms, but then it hit me. He had nine lives like a damn cat.
It would figure that he'd have at least one left to trade in.
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