Reclamation of S09

Chapter 13

0950

SVD and SV-98 mounted their weapons on the window-sill. Nagant paced about among the crumbling furniture. She stopped every so often to examine the carcasses littering the room. After the sixth body, she froze and turned towards the snipers. Her gaze locked with SVD’s, and she hurriedly rejoined the snipers. 

Sturmgewehr and Sten stood petrified, their guns clutched stiffly in their frozen fingers. They had possessed their dummies, ensuring they were in the right positions, within the perimeter rooms. 

MG5’s and G11’s dummies were scattered around the lobby and the mezzanine. They took positions behind any cover they could find. 416 pointed about and gave instructions. Ingram and Sudaev were absent; they had their own tasks to complete in the basement. 

M4, alone in the Communications Room, tapped away at a console. Her teammates had dispersed to cover the corridors, except for FMG-9 and Papasha. FMG-9 had gone to the roof, while Papasha worked on the elevators.

A blue blip winked at the southern edge of the Tactical Map. Siskin 1 had entered the AO. No red blips projected, no reports from Nicholai or Team SVD. The Sangvis were eerily silent.

M4 made another series of taps, each slower than the last. She stopped, straightened herself and bowed her head. Her arms hung by her side, her shoulders slumped forward. She looked defeated.

“Command to M4, how goes your progress?” 

“M4 to Command.” The soft voice on the headset affirmed the impression. She paused for a moment, then sighed before replying forlornly, “All logs going back three days ago were wiped. AR-15 left nothing to indicate where she might have gone.” 

“She knew you would come, didn’t she?” 

M4 nodded in the feed. “She must have come and left in a hurry. Deleting this many logs is unlike her, she’s usually meticulous…”

She perked up suddenly. 

“M4?” 

“Maybe…” she murmured. She slowly, deliberately, crouched to look under the console. 

“Command to M4. Come in.”

“I think she might have hidden a communicator somewhere...”

She got up, then clambered over the console and peeked behind it. She then stretched her left arm down its back. A few seconds later, she fished out a black object. “...There!” She declared triumphantly. “I found it!” She clasped the object gingerly between her palms and blew on it. “I should have known AR-15 would leave something for me to find,” she said softly, with a sigh. She blew at it two more times, then held it close to her lips. 

“Team HK416 to Command!” 416 cried urgently. “We are compromised! Hunter has set a…”

Clusters of red blips erupted like angry boils on the Tactical Map. They poured out of the concrete blocks around the East District. 

Sangvis bodies stirred. Sten and Sturmgewehr froze, then snapped their weapons towards them and opened fire. Movement at the edges of the feed. Another shot, this time from Nagant. Sten turned around slowly, her form getting tenser by the second. She realised they were surrounded by the restless dead.  

“Siskin 1 to Command! Sangvis flooding out into the street!”

Red clusters materialised inside the telecom building, overpowering the blue.

“FAL to M4! Enemies attacking from all corners! They are the bodies we left for dead!”

“BAR to M4! I’m surrounded everywhere!” 

​

“Chambers One to Three have gone dark.”

​

Heart...pounding against ribcage. Throat clenched...clogged by rushing dust.

“Siskin 1 to Command, the Sangvis are closing towards Delta Three…”

G11s and MG5s fired down the lobby. Some bodies fell still, others sundered. The feed shook. Debris and smoke from the rooms behind them. Muzzle flares from 416 and her dummies. 

Door shattered, Ripper grappling Sturmgewehr. Sten took aim. Nagant fired seven shots. Sturngewehr shook off the grappler. Lifted her rifle. Fell. Sten shouted. She lunged, tossed her grenade. Feed shook. Dust settled. She had seized Sturmgewehr and dragged her away. 

“Siskin 1 to Command! Jaegers on the roof! MG4’s trying to clear them out but…”

“FAL to M4! I can’t raise FMG-9! M4!?”

“That earthquake must have taken out Chambers One to Three.”

​

Sharp pain. Knives in the shoulder. Sternum buckling to the hammering heart. 

“Cetin!” 

Washington’s cane...dug into the ribs. His palm firm on the true shoulder, shaking lightly.

“Cetin! You alright?”

“Captain! How can you be so calm? Amir’s down in those tunnels!” Suleiman cried.

​

“Ingram to all! That intact Ripper I told Sarge about? I had put her down, but now, heh, they got us surrounded and pinned. I’m out of ammo.”

​

“Where did Grifon even acquire explosives of this much yield?”

​

Eye burning. Trembling in the true arm. Knives in the chest, knives in the phantom limbs. 

“M4 to Command...Commander…”

Cough out the phlegm. Speak.

“Cetin! That’s Fleur in there! Say something!”

Speak, damn you!

Command!

“Command to All. Sitrep.”

​

The throat burned. Lungs laboured to stir up the stagnant wind. 

Radio silence. 

Sturmgewehr and Sten flanked the doorway. Dust poured through the threshold. 

“Team SVD to Command. We have stabilised the situation in our room. Lost contact with all our dummies.”

A pause.

“I’m busy right now. A herd of rabbits trying to storm this den.”

Three shots in rapid succession. “Sturmgewehr! Can you speak?”

Sturmgewehr retched in Sten’s arms. “Auxiliary power core and a heat exchanger...hit...but I can still fight.”

Another rifle crack, from SV-98 this time. Sten shot at another Sangvis as soon as she appeared. Yet another emerged, swiftly gunned down by Sturmgewehr.

SVD paused for a moment, then spoke again. “Cover us.”

Three MG5s and two G11s turned their weapons towards the Sangvis advancing through the gate. Three 416s and a single G11 fired into the doorway behind them. 

“Team HK416 to Command, we are still holding position, but we may need to withdraw.” G11 ceased firing. She then fiddled about with the front of her gun, then resumed firing. 416 glanced at her, then reported, “We are running out of ammunition…”

“Ingram to All. Still pinned down here! Hey, Sarge! Can I go wild already? Sudaev’s clipped, you know?”

Papasha’s frantic cry answered her statement. “Sudaev’s injured? Sudaev! Say something!”

“I’m fine, Sestra,” Sudaev replied calmly, though her voice carried a hint of pain. 

“Not sure about this van, though,” Ingram injected, with a low hyena-like giggle. “Time to let loose the dogs of war?”

“M4 to Command…” M4 chimed from the communications room. Smoke wafted from her rifle’s barrel. Three Rippers slumped against the walls. “FAL and the rest have retreated into the closest rooms. They are safe but...” 

​

“Who...is left? Anyone left...unaccounted for...?”

M4 checked her weapon. “...we lost all our dummies.”

“...What about Papasha and FMG-9?”

She replaced her magazine.

“Papasha’s safe in the elevator shaft. FMG-9…”

A pause. She hesitated, sighed, then pulled back the charging handle. “I couldn’t raise her.” 

“...I see.” 

She repositioned by the door. Paused. Glanced at her rifle. “...Commander…” She spoke furtively, “I have established communications with AR-15. M4 Sopmod II is with her. She gave me her rendezvous coordinate but…”

A pulse on the Tactical Map. Satellite hamlet, designated Omega, northwest of Novum Sambir, across the river. Large numbers of red blips clusters massing along the westernmost street, named Alpha, from crossroad to crossroad, Alpha One to Alpha Two. 

Prowlers, Scouts, Dinergates...numbering in the hundreds and rising. They pulled away from the patrols and garrisons scattered around the Central District. Hunter meant to unleash them upon AR-15 and M4 Sopmod II. 

“Hunter tapped into your communications.”

M4 withdrew her head just as energy bolts sparked against the door’s frame. “I think so, Commander,” she replied softly. “The Sangvis will reach them in twenty minutes.” She paused, looked at her rifle, then poked her gun out of the door and pulled the trigger.

Two of the MG5 dummies had gone silent. Only the mainframe was still fighting. 416 had returned her attention to the lobby. Sten ducked away from the door as energy bolts impacted the wall opposite of her. Sturmgewehr laid on furniture rubble, with her rifle aimed at the door. Muzzle flashes from the wall windows, the snipers were doing their best to thin the numbers of the reinforcing Sangvis. 

Dull pain in the true palm; the fingernails had dug deep. Dripping between the fingers; the thermos cap had crumpled under the grip of the false hand. Washington looked pale with worry. 

​

“Cetin, we aren’t going anywhere.”

...Captain.

“Your command?”

​

“...Command to All. Ammo count.”

“Plenty flushed over here, Kommandir,” SVD chimed. “Sturmgewehr, ten mags, eight grenades. Sten, twenty mags, ten grenades. Nagant, thirty-five rounds, SV-98, eight mags, myself, eight mags.”

“Team M4 to Command. BAR, five mags, FAL, eight mags, six grenades, Papasha, ten mags, myself...five mags. We can recover more if we can reach our dummies.”

“Team HK416 to Command. MG5, two...one hundred thirty rounds. G11 and dummies, three mags each. My dummies and I, four mags each, two grenades each. Sudaev, three mags, two grenades. Ingram’s empty.”

“MG5, how long can you continue fighting?”

“With controlled burst, maybe three more minutes.”

“I see. Command to Papasha.”

“Kommandir?” 

“Elevators running?”

“Da, Kommandir, I got one elevator running, still working on a rappelling route in the second shaft.”

“Understood. Command to Siskin 1, how quickly can you get to Omega?”

“Siskin 1 to Command,” Nicholai replied calmly, “Twenty minutes, at best speed.”

“Command to Siskin 1, get to Omega, rescue the VIPs, then return to Delta Three.” 

“...Understood. Moving out now.”

“Command to Team M4. Secure the elevator lobby, then clear out your floor. Team SVD, have Sten work with Team M4.”

SVD fired a shot, then replied. “Understood. Hey, Sten! Don’t lose to Sudaev, okay?”

Sten nodded. “M4, I’m in your care.” 

“Command to Sudaev, your position and enemy numbers?”

M4 peeked out of the door and fired three bursts. 

“What?” Ingram exclaimed. “You are asking Sudaev? I can…”

A loud wooden shatter. M4 hurried out of the door and fired down the corridor. Two Rippers fell before they could fire upon FAL. FAL withdrew her kukri from a Ripper’s neck, then snapped her rifle towards another wave of advancing Rippers.

“Command to Sudaev.” The throat strained against the sudden gale. “Answer. Please.”

“Da, Kommandir! We are behind the van between the ramp and the electric room! Fifteen Sangvis are pinning us down, and there are at least thirty more on the upper levels!”

Three of the Rippers were caught by a fragmentation grenade. Sten rolled out and mag-dumped into the reeling Sangvis. M4, FAL and BAR hurried towards Sten, firing at any Sangvis emerging from the rooms to flank her. 

“I could have given you this information, Cetin!” Ingram stated angrily. 

“Command to Ingram. Quiet.”

Ingram swore crassly.

“Command to Sudaev, have you planted all the charges?”

“Only one pillar, Kommandir.”

“Understood. 416, are you listening?”

“Team HK416 to Command, Zenner’s kept me apprised of the situation. Your orders?”

FAL rummaged through the packs of the dummy carcasses. M4, BAR and Sten covered for her. Another Ripper turned the corner behind them, attempting to flank. She flinched, her shots struck the ceiling. Fel had pounced on her neck. FAL lifted her rifle and opened fire.

“416 and G11, send one dummy down to the basement via the stairs and relieve Sudaev and Ingram. Rest of Team HK416, withdraw to the fifth floor via the elevator once M4 gives the go-ahead. Do you copy, M4?”

M4 slung her pack over her shoulders. 

“M4 to Command. Yes, I copy. I will signal the retreat once the elevator is secured.”

She reloaded and advanced with her teammates.

“Good. Sudaev, give Ingram your grenades.”

“Finally! Something to do!”

A Ripper appeared at the door into SVD’s room. Sturmgewehr eliminated her before she could menace the snipers. 

“Ingram, Sudaev, you are to coordinate your actions with 416 and G11. As soon as 416 and G11 open fire upon the enemy, you will rush out and support them. Ingram will handle the grenadier work. Sudaev, you keep shooting. Clear out the enemy as much as you can, get the remaining charges planted and retreat to the fifth floor via the elevator. Papasha.”

“Da. Kommandir?”

“Cut off floors two to four, basements one and two, then the first floor once Team HK416 withdraw. After Sudaev, Ingram, 416 and G11 vacated the basement, disable all elevator access.”

“Ura.”

“After everyone regroups on the fifth floor, vacate the shaft and cut the cables. Command to All, after Papasha disables the elevators, lock down the stairs and hold out until Siskin 1 returns.”

“Team HK416 to Command.”

Lobby littered with Sangvis corpses. 416, G11 and their dummies continued unloading into the advancing Sangvis horde from the mezzanine. MG5’s gunfire had become sporadic. 

“MG5’s down to twenty rounds. We need to evacuate in two minutes.”

“Understood. Command to M4, do you copy?”

“M4 to Command.” 

M4, Sten and BAR were firing down the hallway at a Guard phalanx. One of the shields had sagged, though the Guard did not fall. 

“Copy. Elevator lobby is not clear. The phalanx isn’t buckling. I think the Guards are using a double-row formation. Also…” 

Gunfire flashes from outside the feed’s edge. 

“They are pressuring our flank.”

“Tell the Commander I want double pay for this!” FAL cried from out of view. “I want to go shopping after this is over!” 

Ignored her. Spoke to M4. “Command to M4, copy. Command to Team HK416, ammo count.”

“Team HK416 to Command.” 416 had ejected an empty mag. “G11, our dummies and I are down to two magazines each. My dummy and I still have two grenades each. MG5 is down to five…” 

MG5’s barrel fell silent. She jostled the weapon twice, but nothing came out of the effort. 

“...she’s out,” 416 reported grimly. 

“Understood. Get to the elevator now. You are to assist Team M4A1 in clearing the elevator lobby."

“Team HK416 to Command…” another burst fire from the T-Doll. “Understood. Moving now…MG5!” 

MG5 had collapsed behind cover beside 416’s. Down the ledge, her dummies seized up. “G11! Cover me! MG5!” 

Before 416 could leave her cover, MG5 held out her hand. “Kamerad 416…” she wheezed. “I’m...controlling my dummies...directly. Buy time...Surge in processor load...” 

Her dummies slumped forward. 

“I can...buy two minutes...two minutes to...failsafe trigger...shut...down.” 

“Dummkopf!” 416 cried. “You risk burning out your processor!”

MG5’s dummies mechanically got up. One was struck in the shoulder but did not falter. They flipped their weapons around, held them by their barrels, and lurched towards the Ripper tide.

“...I know. I’m entering...Level II consciousness. Lighten the...processor load...Scrape...three more minutes. Take my mainframe…”

The MG5 dummies charged into the crowd. Wielding their emptied guns like bludgeons, they wailed at the enemy. Vespids shot at them, tearing off chunks of artificial flesh. One of the dummies, spilling coolant all over the dusty floor. She lurched forward, then broke into a sprint. A Ripper sprawled behind her, felled by G11. The dummy then swung her empty gun at the Vespid who had shot her. The Vespid’s head bent at an unnatural angle. 

“...Understood,” 416 replied with a curt nod.

Three shots missed 416 by a hair as she lunged towards the fading MG5. G11 had gunned down the offending Vespids before they could steady their aim. 416 threw the machine-gunner over her shoulder. “G11! We are evacuating! Schnell!” 

“Aaaaah...no fair,” G11 whined, as she replaced one of the two empty magazines on the front of her gun. They both leapt off the ledge onto the lobby below. G11 and HK416 dummies, who had followed suit, fired upon the enemy, covering the MG5 dummies. 416, G11 and MG5 disappeared under the ledge. Their dummies followed them, backing away slowly out of view. 

The feed descended. Ringing bullets shot past the micro-drone as it sped past the 416 and G11 dummies. A soft ding, the door slid open. 416 dropped the comatose MG5 on the metal door. G11 kept the door open, letting their dummies in. The door closed, and faint rhymeless music droned.

“Team HK416 to M4 and Command. We are in the elevator, on the way to the fifth floor.”

“M4 to Team HK416.” M4 punctured another Guard’s visor. “Understood. Be advised, the Sangvis on this floor and the floors below have rallied at the elevator lobby. You may be attacked as soon as you arrive.”

416 propped the unconscious MG5 against the steel wall. “Team HK416 to M4. Acknowledged,” she said as she slid her grenade into her underslung launcher. “G11, take position beside the door…” she pointed towards the corner to her left, “...and put your dummy at the back corner beside me. Schnell!” 

G11 hurried towards her indicated position, at the corner by the door in front of 416, though her dummy reacted faster to 416’s instruction. 

“We have arrived on the third floor. ETA to the fifth floor, thirty seconds.” 416 slapped her rifle. “G11, you and your dummy are down to half a mag each. Only shoot at anything you can certainly hit.”

G11 glanced at her weapon, then nodded frantically.

A flash of a smile, quickly replaced with a frown. 416 looked towards the door sternly. “Get ready.”

“Command to Papasha, on which floor are you on?”

“Papasha to Kommandir. I’m suspended over the third floor. I’ve just isolated the first floor from the elevator.” 

“Command to Papasha. Good work. Wait below the fifth floor. I need a grenade in the Sangvis’ midst as soon as they engage Team HK416.”

“Papasha to Kommandir. Already on my way. Ura.”

Another soft ding. Iridescent flashes filled the feed. They sparked off the opposite side of the elevator car, filling the feed with wispy grey smoke. Three volleys, silence, two Rippers ingressed into the elevator. Two bursts from HK416 and G11. The Rippers fell. 416 and G11’s dummies then fired at the unseen enemies beyond the door. 

“Command to Papasha. Are you in position?”

A bang, followed by another. Cloud of dust issued from behind the phalanx. “Uraaaaa!” Papasha shouted. Her battle cry was followed by an unmistakable ‘brrrrt’. The two HK416s made their egress under G11s’ covering fire. They launched their grenades, mainframe first, then dummy. The phalanx buckled, gaps exposed. Sten’s grenade bounced off the ceiling and landed among the reeling Guards. M4, BAR and Sten then advanced, firing upon the scattered Sangvis as they went. 

Two minutes passed. BAR pulled back her charging handle and fired into the stairway exit. 

“M4A1 to Team SVD, I need Sturmgewehr to assist in covering the stairs.”

SVD, eye glued to her scope, spoke, “Hey, Svet. Take Sturmgewehr to the elevator lobby.”

SV-98 swivelled her gun slightly to her right. A shot fired, but her muzzle did not flare. SV-98 paused for a moment before replying irritably, “What did I say about calling me ‘Svet’?”.

SVD fired another shot, then replied with an unseen smirk, “Why not? The name’s cute. I like it.”

SV-98, with a slight grumble, added, “We still have targets down there.”

“Save your bullets, Svet,” SVD replied. “They are meant for wolves. Besides, Nagant’s too small to help.”

“Hey!” Nagant barked. “Be polite to your Babushka!”

“I can go myself…” Sturmgewehr lifted herself with a grunt. She stumbled. Her shoulders shuddered. She clutched her chest. 

“Don’t stress yourself. You are going to overheat faster with only one working heat exchanger,” SVD advised. 

“Are you sure you can handle this?” SV-98 inquired, as she turned her gun slightly to the left. Once again, SVD took the shot. “Just a rabbit hunt,” SVD replied. “Don’t keep the second Kommandir waiting. I’ll tell you if I see Hunter.” 

SV-98 lifted her eye off her scope. She shook her head as she got up. Rifle slung over her shoulder, she walked up to Sturmgewehr and threw her left arm over her shoulder. “Danke,” said Sturmgewehr appreciatively as SV-98 helped her out of the door. 

“Team HK416 to Command,” 416 announced as she laid MG5’s unconscious form against the wall close to the empty elevator shaft. “Sudaev had planted three charges before she was pinned by the Sangvis from the upper levels. Our dummies are down. Ingram incapacitated. We are heading down there.”

“Command to Team HK416. Hold your position. Command to Team M4A1, ammo count.”

“Team M4A1 to Command,” M4 started. “We have salvaged ammunition from our dummies. FAL, six magazines, twelve grenades, BAR, ten magazines, Papasha, two magazines, myself, four magazines. I’m taking FAL with me to basement three to relieve Sudaev and Ingram.”

“Command to Team M4A1. Understood. Proceed at best speed.”

“Turn that frown around, ma chérie. Don’t mar that pretty face,” FAL said to 416, her voice sweet yet venomous like a snake’s. 416 shot her a fearsome glare in response. G11 shuddered, perhaps out of terror. FAL smugly added, “We will return your demoiselles en détresse, safe and sound.” 

Before 416 could reply, FAL followed M4 to the elevator shaft and leapt after her. The feed followed their rapid descent along the cable. 

“Command to Papasha, send the elevator down to basement three.”

“Da, Kommandir.” 

M4 and FAL arrived at the roof of an elevator car a fraction of a minute later. M4 pried open the elevator’s roof hatch. The two T-Dolls then dropped down into the elevator car. M4 tore open the door. FAL charged out, launching her grenades along the way. Broken bodies flung, gunfire drowned by howling vehicle alarms. 

M4 rushed out towards Sudaev, firing her gun as she went. She felled three Vespids as they attempted to fill the spots vacated by FAL’s grenades. The Vespids attempted to retaliate and FAL gunned them down swiftly. 

The black-haired T-Doll leapt over a pile of fallen Sangvis, then slammed her shoulder against the car, beside Ingram and Sudaev. She froze upon seeing Ingram’s condition.

“Heh, M4,” Ingram said with a low, pained chuckle. She still functioned, despite being on death’s door. “Late to the party.” 

“Zatknis, idiot Ingram!” Sudaev chided. She smacked Ingram’s forehead. She had been trying to tape Ingram’s severed right arm together. “We take our eyes off you for just a minute and look at what happened!”

“Can you still complete your task?” M4 inquired. Sudaev nodded furiously. “We’ll take care of Ingram. Go!” 

M4 leaned out of cover and joined her fire with FAL’s. Sudaev kept low and dashed towards the pillar to her right. The Vespids fired three shots at FAL. One shattered the black car’s window, the second punctured its engine block, the third grazed FAL’s shoulder.

“FAL!” M4 shouted in alarm. FAL gritted her teeth and returned fire. 

Sudaev finished planting the explosive and sprinted to the pillar directly behind her. She swung around behind the concrete block and repeated the process. Deciding that Sudaev was safe from enemy fire, M4 hoisted Ingram onto her shoulder and effected her withdrawal to the next set of cover, closest to Sudaev. FAL remained where she was, picking off any Vespid trying to aim at M4. She then retreated under M4’s covering fire. 

Movement behind the stairway exit. 

“Command to Team M4! Sangvis on your six!”

FAL swung around and launched three grenades. They soared over two rows of vehicles and found their marks. A Vespid aimed at the car’s window, directly behind FAL. M4 shot the Vespid and warned, “FAL, your back is exposed!” FAL sidestepped to her left to the nearby concrete outcrop.

Sudaev completed her work and ran for the next set of pillars. FAL swung towards the Sangvis behind her and fired three more grenades, covering M4’s retreat. M4, heaving Ingram upon her shoulder, fired three more bursts, eliminating the Rippers egressing from the stairway. Once they reached cover, FAL disengaged and effected her own retreat. 

Six minutes passed. The stairway was obstructed by concrete rubble and Sangvis bodies. Gunshots. More Ripper bodies added to that pile. Sudaev planted the last charge, and announced aloud, “We are done!” She then ran for the elevator. 

M4 delivered Ingram to the white van left of the elevator. She then turned around and fired upon the advancing Sangvis. Suddenly, she swung her rifle towards the stairway exit and felled more Rippers. FAL stumbled during her retreat. Smoke issued from her jacket, coolant spilt onto the cement floor. She took three more steps before falling onto her knees.

“FAL!” Sudaev shouted as she left the elevator. She ducked just as M4 gunned down two more Rippers emerging from the stairway. FAL swung onto her back and launched her grenades, just as Sudaev seized her and dragged her away. M4 fired two more bursts, then retreated with Ingram in tow. 

The Vespids intensified their fire. Several shots made it past the closing elevator door and struck the metal wall. 

“Command to Papasha.” M4 reloaded her weapon. FAL, grimacing, fumbled as she tried to load her last three grenades. Sudaev, still clutching FAL, looked on with worry. Ingram ejected a dry, pained chuckle. “M4, FAL, Ingram and Sudaev have exfil’ed. Cut basement access to the elevator.”

​

​

1105

​

Siskin 1’s blip disengaged from the red clusters. MG4’s feed showed a T-Doll in black having hopped through the side hatch. 

“Siskin 1 to Command,” Nicholai reported three minutes ago. MG4’s feed showed flashes of gunfire, a trail of smoke and a blast. “We sighted only one of the VIPs.” 

The gunfire staled, then reignited moments later. The muzzle flashes moved away from the Sangvis mob. The T-Doll was retreating towards a clearing, separated from the pavements by a chain-link fence.

Red clusters on the Tactical Map split from the main body and circled around the settlement, forming a crescent trail. Dinergates and Scouts, trying to cut off the T-Doll’s escape.

“Command to Siskin 1. Get to the clearing north east of Omega and extract that VIP. Once you are done, disengage. Be advised, Dinergates and Scouts are attempting to encircle the VIP.”

The T-Doll fired two more bursts then launched a grenade. She then sprinted and slid under the chain-link, only to be beset by the encircling Sangvis drones immediately. 

Thunderous roars from MG4’s barrel. Dinergates scattered, Scouts veered away from scything tracer rounds. 

A Scout and two more Dinergates cut in the T-Doll’s path, too swiftly for MG4 to intercept. The T-Doll simply jumped over them, planted her foot on the Scout and springboarded into the helo’s side-hatch. 

“Siskin 1 to Command, we have recovered the VIP. Now disen…”

“Commander!” the T-Doll cried, loudly enough to be heard from Nicholai’s mic, despite the gunfire. She sounded youthful. Very youthful, comparable to P7’s. Excited. Distressed. 

“Commander!” she cried again. “This is M4 Sopmod II! Can you hear me?” 

“M4 to Siskin 1,” M4 started. She was supervising Papasha’s stacking of furniture and Sudaev’s moulding of her leftover C4. “Connect me to M4 Sopmod II. Sop II! Are you hurt? Where’s AR-15?” M4’s shoulders were tense, her soft voice anxious. 

“AR-15 left! She went to disrupt the Sangvis! She’s trying to buy time!”

“Buy time?” M4 said, her voice hushed but astounded. Sudaev and Papasha stopped briefly to gawk, then returned to their tasks. “What for?”

“M4! Commander!” Sop II raised her voice. “Listen! AR-15 said Hunter’s sending half her army to…”

“They have already attacked us.”

The radio fell silent. M4 stared blankly at Sudaev. Sudaev, standing atop two chairs, stretched a block of C4 against the concrete ceiling. 

Fifteen Prowler wreckages on the slope a hundred and fifty meters in front of Lev and Skorpion’s position. The PKPs smoked. Skorpion and Lev were slapping each other’s palms. CZ2000, who shared the same foxhole, shook her head and continued her vigil.

“Skorpion reported fifteen Prowlers having assaulted our position five minutes ago.”

Red clusters massing at the southern side of Novum Sambir, on the roads designated Alpha and Beta. Prowlers, Guards, Jaegers, Vespids, Rippers, Dinergates. There can be no mistaking their intention.   

“Hunter is probing our defences.”

“Then, M4! Commander! You need to leave quickly! There will be too many of them for us to handle!”

“...Sop II…” M4 muttered slowly. “I can’t. I still have three echelons trapped with me in the city.”

“While the echelons are still trapped in the AO, I must remain at my station.”

“But!” 

Coursing wind through the dust-dry throat, silencing Sop II’s plea. “We have anticipated this attack, and we have a contingency for it. The upcoming siege is ours to endure. You are on the way to reunite with M4. Concern yourself with what you can do for her. Command to Siskin 1.”

“Yes, Boss?” Nicholai chimed. 

“ETA to Delta Three?”

“Fifteen minutes. Any word for MG4? The black one couldn’t have gotten off the ground if not for her.”

“Command to MG4. Keep up the good work. We will need this exemplary performance again within the next fifteen minutes.”

The radio fell silent. Sudaev stretched her second block of C4 against the ceiling, parallel to the first one. This was her last block.

“...MG4 to Command,” MG4 spoke slowly. “...I’ll do my best.”

“Team Skorpion to Command!” The headset blurted Skorpion’s exclamation. “More Prowlers! Fifteen! Moving along the road!”

“Command to Team Skorpion. They are searching for another angle of attack. Stay vigilant.”

“Okay!” 

M4 had fallen silent. She barely paid attention to Sudaev and Papasha.

“Hey, Cetin!” Skorpion was filled with bravado. “They found AR-15, right? Are they already on the way back, or are they looking for Hunter?"

FAL and Sturmgewehr, slumped against the wall facing the stairway exit, cracked their heads towards MG5. MG5 was stirring. 

​

"They are hunting Hunter, right?"

​

Ingram laughed hoarsely. She then choked, gurgled and coughed.

“...Cetin?” Skorpion’s bravado was beginning to fade. “You are quiet. Did something happen? Everyone alright?”

Inhaled. Exhaled. 

“They are stranded at Delta Three.” 

Skorpion had fallen quiet. 

“We lost FMG-9. Sudaev, lightly wounded. Sturmgewehr and FAL, grievously wounded. Ingram…” 

The throat clenched. Dryness on the tongue. The pulse quickened.

Inhaled. Exhaled. 

“...mortally wounded.”

Silence on the headset. Tap. Tap. Washington’s heel and cane tapped under the Tactical Map, against the compacted dirt. 

“...Oh.” Skorpion broke the rhyme. “...Ingram’s still alive, right?” Her voice was weak, bereft of her bluster. Forlorn. 

Ingram's right forearm dangled off her elbow. Frayed wires and charred endoskeleton peeked out of her tape-sealed stump, the remains of her right leg. She was clutching her soaked belly with her corroded left hand.

​

“Erkan, you look like you swam in blood!” 

​

She laughed hoarsely again. The crack on her face’s left side opened further, exposing the charred bone and teeth underneath. 

​

“Hey, Cetin. Hey…”

Inhaled. Exhaled. 

​

“Sorry. I fucked up.”

“...Barely,” the voice croaked.

​

The headset fell silent.  

Sten spoke to Ingram. She uttered three, perhaps four sentences, then frowned and shook her head. Ingram grinned irreverently. Sten puffed her cheek and shoved an MRE pack into Ingram’s mouth.

The thunder of light machine guns. Then, silence. Violence sudden but brief, yet lingering, like an Ottoman slap.

“...Oh.” 

Skorpion’s voice was shaking. Her shoulders slumped, her head was bowed. Lev and CZ2000 gazed upon her. They then looked at each other and engaged in silent conversation. 

“...Do you wish to speak to her?”

“...Later,” she replied softly. “...Later...I mean...We’ve just killed those fifteen Prowlers trying to sneak up on us. From the south side, I mean.”

“...I see.”

Sten snapped her gaze towards the stirring MG5. The machine-gunner’s cheeks were flushed in deep crimson. Clutching her forehead, she gingerly rose to her feet. G11, who was close by, dropped her MRE pack and backed into 416’s belly. 

​

“Enough tomfoolery! Suleiman! Get off him and carry him to medical!”

Inhaled. Exhaled. 

​

“Cetin. The Khorasani will be expecting us. We need to hit them before they can consolidate their defences. We need to hit them tonight!” 

MG5 conversed with 416. 416’s arms were folded, her expression stern. Heads nodded and shook. 

​

“Rest of you, get to the command room! We have work to do!” 

​

“Cetin?”

Captain’s voice silenced. The phantoms dispersed. True knuckles had turned white, the fists were clenched tight. Unclenched them. The false hand lagged behind the true. Deep cuts in the false palm exposed the carbon fibre beneath. 

Inhaled. Exhaled.

“What is it, Skorpion?”

“You will save Ingram, Sturmgewehr, Sten, Papasha, Sarge, M4 and the rest, right?”

Furtive. Crestfallen. Daring yet not daring to hope.

Inhaled. Exhaled.

“I will bring them back. You have my word.”

“...Promise?”

“Promise.” 

Washington’s brow was knitted. Expression severe, eyes on his tablet, finger tapping on his headset. His heel had fallen still.

The silent wind, blowing through the flap, was suffocating. Tinged with gunsmoke odour. Sweltering, thick with tension and anticipation of the upcoming siege.