Be sure to read Operation Ashes Part 1
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176UY 7/23 0618
 

 

 

Pain.

Agony splinters through every bone. It flows with my blood to every cell. Someone in my head unleashes hell with a jackhammer. My skull is about to explode like something else already did. I’ve always been told it hurts. William told me once he thought it would be the worst way to die.

William! I force my eyes open and let the light flood in. My head screams in protest. After a moment of attempting to peer into the broken remains of a wall, I surrender and let my eyes fall shut. Mike would call me weak.

Then the pain is gone. Without warning, it vanishes, leaving barely a trace; only the minor throbbing of a few scrapes and the stick of a needle in my arm remain. The needle is new.

My eyes shoot back open. Around me is a scene of devastation. The small cylinder was enough to shred walls all the way down the hall. Only a handful of supports remains standing, the rest are scattered around the warped floor. Behind my feet, the rubble just ends. I can’t tell how many floors the hole penetrates. The wall of windows on either side of it is completely gone, allowing the full glory of the morning sun to flow around a massive pile of debris from the floor above.

Four bodies provide organic accents to the splintered wood and metal. Panic begins to rise within me before I fully register what I’m seeing. These men were killed by gunshots to the head, not an explosion, and their simple tactical clothes with only thigh holsters look nothing like my team’s full combat gear. And my team doesn’t wear the stylized ‘UDS’ of Unified Defense and Security.

A similar pair of tactically clothed legs stand upright a few feet from me. I groggily turn my head to get a better look at the man perched on them. He stands tall and steady, the bright red UDS patch sticking out on his broad shoulders. He isn’t large, but his toned muscles leave no doubt he could hold his own in a fight and his emotionless face screams confidence and authority. Something about the dark eyes set at the top of the expression make me uneasy, like I’m staring into Deep caverns to the underworld. Never in my time as a Guard nor as an Agent have I met a man that made me fear for my life as much as this man does, and I’ve killed crime lords.

“Up,” he says in a flat tone.

“What-” I pause to wet my throat. “What did you do to me? My pain…”

“Healed you. Get up Samuel.”

My hand snaps to my thigh, seeking the pistol that should be holstered there. Nothing but blood and skin. I fire a question instead. “How do you know my name?”

“Lola. Now up, we don’t have much time.”

Lola talked to this guy? Why? How?

I reach up to the back of my head. No chip, only blood. My glasses are also gone. The headset dangles from the agent of Death’s hands. Not okay. Lola is mine.

I spring to my feet like a sloth out to kill. The stranger tosses me the headset. I only catch it because it hooks a finger well before my hand closes around it.

“The side effects will wear off. You can still move, so do,” he says.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“An ally. Move.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Your source. Now move.”

“Source? You led us to the bomb?”

“Yes.”

My fists tighten. “And you call yourself an ally?”

“I did not plan the mission. Blame those who did. Now you must move if you want to get out of here alive.” He takes a few steps to the side and picks my UMBRA up from the ground. Also not okay. “Be quick. Be silent.”

“Where’s my team?”

“You are the first we found. You don’t have time to find the rest.”

“More UDS?”

The man nods toward what used to be the window. I step into the gaping hole and peer out. A large courtyard sits at the base of the tower. In the center of the white concrete floor stands a twisted sculpture of metal. New additions of similar pieces litter the courtyard, sourced from the devastation I stand in. Large buildings stand on three sides of the concrete. On the fourth side, directly across from me, a procession enters from the street.

“Who are they?” I ask. His answer is to hand me a scope he seems to produce from nowhere. Not the one on my rifle of course.

With the scope assisting me, I can make out the eye color of the men below. I dial it back a couple of clicks and scan the growing group. Most of the procession are dressed identically to the man next to me, complete with UDS patches; only five of them are in different dress. Four of those five look similar to my team, but in cream rather than black. The fifth stands in the center of those four. He wears nothing but a suit.

I point the crosshairs in the scope at his head and zoom back in. Something about his graying black hair feels familiar. He doesn’t seem dangerous, but few of the dangerous ones do. Too many of the criminals I have taken down lived in the open without turning a single head. But this man is different. Somehow, he reminds me of the one time I saw the big man himself. The leader doesn’t go to many of the War Games, but he showed up to ours. This feels similar. But less ominous.

The surprising silence in the post-disaster morning is suddenly shattered. An agonizingly unsuppressed gunshot bounces off the metal fragments scattered throughout the courtyard. The bullet strikes where my crosshairs are aimed.

The effect almost makes me drop the scope.

Instead of blood and brains being blasted over the broken ground, painting it red, a green ripple appears in the air an inch from the man’s face. Beneath the toxic glow, a faceless, black mask stares straight ahead. As the wave moves outward from the point of contact, more of the mask is revealed. It goes beyond his face, extending over the top of his head and down beyond his shoulders, where the ripple dies. Everything it revealed vanishes with it, leaving only his unamused face.

“That- How-” I stutter. “No one but us has- unless…Oh my God. That’s the Phantom.”

The death agent beside me snatches the scope from my grip. “Yeah. Now move.”

“I need to find my team.”

“If you insist, move and do so.”

I nod and reach for my rifle. Rather than handing it to me, he turns it on himself and places the barrel against his stomach. Without hesitation, he pulls the trigger. I jump as blood paints the broken wall behind him. He doesn’t even flinch.

He shoves the weapon into my frozen hands. “Now get out. I suggest the side exit.”

I obey without hesitation, moving around the chasm to my right. I hazard a single glance behind me as I run. My eyes stay turned back just long enough to see my savior tip himself backward onto the rubble. The man can’t be human.

As I run, I fumble with my headset, trying to pull it over my head. I wrap the mic around my neck and fit the glasses over my eyes. Just as what is left of the windows on the side of building comes into view, I press Lola’s chip against my skull.

Do not get blown up again! Now that that’s out of the way we should synch. Lola says. Information floods my brain. Her trust of the man that saved me, but not who he is, sticks out first. Then her readings of my own injuries. Then scans of the destroyed building. Finally I feel her frustration at encountering a signal jammer even she can’t break through. Nothing about the rest of my team.

I can sneak beneath the jam. Give me time and I can directly contact any others that are still out there. I can’t reach anyone outside the sphere of the jam though, she says. And your equipment is ready when you are.

I fly past the last splintered door on the floor and stick my UMBRA to my back. My feet don’t hesitate as they carry me over the threshold of broken glass and into the air three hundred feet above the alley between this building and the next. The windows ahead of me are gone, giving me a full view into a mess of toppled cubicle walls for a split second before gravity takes hold of me.

The jets in my belt activate for a moment, stopping me from colliding with the other tower. I force myself to tuck forward so I am facing the ground. The wind reaches down my throat to yank out my breath and claws at my eyes around the rims of my glasses. The world goes black as I drop my eyelids and let Lola see for me. My lungs fight with the air, distracting me from the concrete barreling toward me.

The jets in my belt let out a few spurts of air as I fall to control my speed. The end of my fall still comes much too quickly. With one last, extra strong blast from my waist, Lola screams Now! into my head. I pull my legs underneath my body. My teeth rattle as my boots make contact with the hard ground. Immediately, I roll forward to absorb the impact. My rifle is already in my hand when I come to rest on my feet once more.

As soon as I’m balanced, my eyes shoot open. False color already highlights the world around me. The buildings on either side of me are outlined in blue, as are the pieces of them scattered through the alley. The map in the corner of my vision is detailed with red dots speckling the courtyard. One blinking black point sits right in the center of them.

I drop a hand to my belt and activate my camouflage, melting into the morning shadows. My lungs pull in as much air as they can to refill, then I move. The alley works against me as I walk. Even with my feet guiding me along the best route through the rubble, shards of the glass walls casting my dark guise still put themselves beneath my boots. The crack of them breaking shoots down the narrow passage like a bullet through a barrel.

Seconds pass before I reach the edge of the buildings.. When I reach the end of the alley, my map updates with three new dots; two reds move on either side of a single blue one from the direction the gunshot had come from. I press tight against the metal support to my left and strain to see around the other corner. For a few long moments, I see nothing. Then they come into view.

Two UDS men stride toward the Phantom, a pair of black boots dragging between them. Nothing else of the man they carry is visible, but the blue dot representing him means Lola believes he is of my team. Every red dot stares right at him.

Before the two security agents make it halfway to the Phantom, the one closest to me drops, the contents of his head painting his comrade. As his body falls, Tem slumps on top of it, jerking his other captor sideways before that man too loses his head. Another blue dot blinks onto my map before any of the others move.

Cage flies out of an alley on the other side of the splintered building. Fire erupts from the UMBRA in his hands. A green halo materializes around the Phantom’s head as every bullet bounces off the air between his eyes. His face contorts and his arms twitch with each one. The men surrounding him drop one by one. Each time one of the UDS operators raises his weapon, his ear canal expands forcefully. Pik shows the power of his DMOTER one threat at a time.

When Cage reaches Tem, he lowers his left hand and grabs the younger man’s collar, his shots never stopping. Tem groggily comes to his feet and stumbles away from the operators. The flash of flames from Cage’s rifle pauses as he removes the magazine. A curse replaces the bark of gunfire when the magazine doesn’t refill automatically. It drops to the ground and he reaches for the only other one hanging from his belt. His rifle never gets reloaded.

The Phantom raises his arm from his side. A small ball in his hand expands, moving like liquid until it re-solidifies in the shape of a pistol. His body doesn’t move when it spits a bullet straight into Cage’s neck. He lowers the handgun and turns his head in Pik’s direction.

“Shit!” I spit and step farther back into the shadows.

He’s not scanning for us. His suit is a deadzone, but I can track his signals once the leave. He found Pik, Lola says.

Have you?

Of course. One more moment and… He can hear us

“Pik?” I whisper.

“Samuel. Any word from the others?”

“Nothing. You?”

“Kraz is gone. His body went cold before our signals died. Nothing from Mike or William.”

“We need to get to the rendezvous point.”

“And Tem?”

“Him too.”

“You have a plan?”

“Yeah. Lola’s sending it.”

It’s crazy, she says as she relays my thoughts.

“But it might work. On your go,” Pik says.

“Show me why they put on Acid Rain.”

Bullets begin raining from his rooftop. Before I can peer back around the corner, two more bodies drop next to Tem, who is once again on the ground, and three more have added their blood to the red mural at the Phantom’s feet. The man himself looks annoyed.

I grab a cylinder from my belt and press two of the four buttons on its side. With a long breath, I step out from the shadows. Most of the remaining eyes turn to me. The Phantom’s blink hard as a bullet hits the space between them. My cylinder rolls between his feet. Another bullet makes him flinch before the grenade explodes in a bright flash of light and a deafening bang. I sprint toward my fallen comrades.

When the light disappears, ripples of electricity run up and down the Phantom’s body. His arms move in short jerking motions as bullets continue to pound his face. The men around him hold their heads. I vault over a twisted metal beam and come to a sliding stop next to Tem. I pass my rifle to my left hand and raise my right fist in front of my head. Four metal strands shoot out from my wrist in the shape of a cross. Purple plasma seeps between them just in time to incinerate the first slug aimed at my head with a zap like a fly in a bug zapper.

“Get up. Move!” I shout. Tem obeys. While he forces himself to his feet, I stick the barrel of my rifle around my shield and squeeze the trigger. It bounces in my palm as red fountains erupt from the chest of a UDS operator.

“His suit’s coming back online,” Pik says over the mic. “I’ll keep him stunned.”

“Tem, move!” I turn around, keeping my shield between my adversaries and myself. Zaps continue to ring out from it. A blunt pain knocks on my left side as I let the shield slip. I don’t let it keep me from pushing Tem toward the nearest alley. Another bullet passes close enough to my neck for me to feel its burn.

Deciding my hand was too unsteady for protection, I plant it on my spine, then move it sideways. The shield slides from my wrist and sticks to my back. I look over my shoulder to see it move on its own, guided by Lola, to where it provides the most protection. Through its purple haze, I see the Phantom fight his reflexes as more bullets hit his head. He raises his pistol.

“Tem, when I say run, move as fast as you can to that beam,” I say and pull another grenade from my belt. “Now.” I press the same two buttons as the first one and toss it over my shoulder. Tem sprints toward the warped metal support, seeming to overcome whatever was bogging him down.

The courtyard lights up and echoes with a bang that stops at my earpiece, leaving me unafflicted. Tem collapses to the ground short of cover. By his belt, I drag him the last foot. Once the metal shields me from the stunned men, I fall to my knees.

I drop the magazine from my UMBRA and swap it with one in a pocket on my vest. Ignoring the throb in my side, I peer out over the beam. The Phantom once again has arcs of electricity running over his body and the remaining UDS operators are doubled over. The last two of his cream-clothed bodyguards are all but recovered, their rifles held firmly, but low.

Behind them, at least ten more men dressed just like them and another twenty operators climb the stairs from the street.

“Pik,” I say.

“I see them, but I’m afraid you are on your own now. They’ve got some headed my way,” the Overwatch says.

“Alright. Get down and meet us at the extract point.” I take his silence as confirmation and turn back to Tem. He has his head in his hands. “Do you have your shields?”

He blinks at me a few times, then rubs his eyes. “No. They uh, they took ’em.”

I grab his shoulder and turn him around. Another plasma shield, identical to the one on my back, shoots out from my left wrist. I place it against his back, where it sticks and moves into place like mine did. “When I start shooting, run. Don’t turn around for anything.”

He nods.

My rifle switches back to my dominant hand and I turn around. I lean against the blackened metal protecting me. The cooled metal bites through my shirt and at my skin. A small patch of it in front of my face remains untarnished. I watch the reflection. One sun peers out from behind a building, sending its rays through the web of knotted metal three hundred feet above me and flooding the courtyard with its brilliance.

I lean out from behind my cover.

The operators that have recovered from the last flash of light now bow their heads away from sun. The other men look straight at me, the light glinting off clear glasses that fade black as I watch. It is them I target.

I point my UMBRA at one of the two nearest the Phantom and breathe out as I squeeze the trigger. His glasses, then his skull, shatter. His comrade drops to one knee and raises his rifle. I barely shift for my next shot. My target jerks sideways as his shoulder is thrown back. His neck is torn open a moment later. My sights focus farther back.

The ten new cream men have scattered. One by one, they dive behind pieces of their broken building. The UDS operators look like they want to do the same, but continue their march straight toward me. I ignore them. Instead, I locate the barrel and sights of a rifle along the side of a mound of broken concrete. After a moment of steadying my aim, I fire my shot. My enemy spins out from behind his cover, the side of his face missing.

The beam rings out with contact from a bullet, causing me to flinch. Then again. And again. The other nine men have set up their shooting positions. I duck back behind the metal before I can go the way of my last victim.

From my knees, I watch Tem bolt into the shadows still reigning in the bottom of the alley. My turn. Rising to one knee, I take a deep breath. With oxygen running through me, I drive my body forward.

Six bullets get zapped by my shield and one punches the armored cloth on my calf before I reach the alley. As soon as I pass between the walls, I spin around. As I do so, I reach my left arm back and place it against the shield. When it sticks, I pull it in front of me again. My UMBRA replaces it on my back.

I look back and hit Tem’s belt, then my own. We both fade into the darkness. Once we are far enough back that we can’t be shot, the glow of our shields also vanishes.

You actually did it, Lola says.

We’re not out yet. And Cage is still out there.

You couldn’t drag him out with you.

“Tem, keep up,” I say, moving around the other man.

“That’d be easier if I could see you,” He responds.

“We’re almost out of shadows. Then we run to the extract point.”

“Will they be there to get us out?”

“We can hope.”

I run down the alley, letting my boots crush the shards of glass littering the ground. Hunks of rubble arcing between the buildings force me to keep my head low. Mounds of broken concrete guide my footsteps in a twisting line to the end of the buildings. I don’t even pause before bursting into the street.

The shadows retract, disappearing into the black cloth covering my body. Screams fill the street. A crowd has begun to gather beneath the lights on the other side of the avenue. They line the sidewalk with gaping mouths. None of them have taken a step off the curb. Not one is in the blue uniforms of the local law enforcement that has been inexplicably absent.

“Stick close and don’t slow,” I shout to Tem and barrel into the line of onlookers. It parts around me, giving us a straight shot into another alley. My body once again dissolves into shadow. The darkness convulses as the camouflage tries to keep it around my speeding form.

A second later, we come to an intersection with another alley. A left arrow appears in my vision just as a green line pops onto my map, detailing the best route. “Left,” I say and turn that direction.

At the end of the narrow passage, I once again sprint into the sunlight without pause. A bullet warns me of my mistake. A moment later, I am back behind the wall. Tem skids to a halt next to me. After removing my UMBRA from my back, I lean with it around the corner. Two teams of cream agents hug the walls on either side of the street. Six rifles point at us, the nearest a block away.

“When I say run, get to the alley across the street,” I tell Tem. He responds by slipping my pistol out of its holster. “It’s loaded with knockouts,” I warn him.

He pulls a magazine from the back of my belt. “Not anymore.”

“Good. Get ready.” My sights settle on the team on our side of the street. My finger coils. The man at point stumbles backward as my bullets slam into his chest. His comrade directly behind him starts shooting. Sparks fly around me as metal strikes metal. The third man on the team helps the first into an alley. The other team splits and vanishes between different buildings.

“Go,” I say. The space around me lights up purple as Tem takes off across the street. I spray the opposite side of the street, forcing that team to keep their heads hidden, before swinging my aim back around to my side. Short bursts of flame fling slugs at me.

A door between me and the muzzle flare opens and a head peeks out. The face on it turns toward me. One of the eyes sockets expands rapidly and a full body slumps out onto the sidewalk. The bullets stop flying.

“Samuel!” Tem shouts. I turn toward him. He kneels on the opposite sidewalk, shield in front of him and pistol sticking out beside it. My own shield activates and I dart toward him. The street stays quiet until I’m nearly across. He rises as I pass him and follows me into the next alley.

With walls around me again, I retract the shield and deactivate my camouflage. “A couple more blocks. Pik?”

“I’m on the ground. We should arrive at about the same time. Five or so of them are after me,” Pik says in my ear.

“See you in a minute.” I grasp my UMBRA and bolt down the passage.

A right, a left and two more rights later, we pop out into our target street, a hundred feet from a wide, empty intersection. It will be another half-hour before the roads fill with vehicles and the sidewalks with people. For now there are only three other people out, two women on a corner of the intersection and a man walking toward us.

I step out onto the sidewalk and my illusion of having a half-hour shatters. People flood into view. Pik flies around the corner by the two women, a shield covering his back and his DMOTER clutched in his hand. Down the other direction, men, both UDS and others, flow out of other streets. Every one of them has a weapon in his hand.

“How did so many of them find us so quickly?” Tem asks.

Phantom traced our signals and those of our extraction team to pinpoint this location, Lola says and I relay it to my teammates.

“Where is that extraction team exactly?” Tem inquires.

Almost here. You should get to the intersection.

“Get to the intersection. Shields as cover. Stay low and put our back to a wall. We can hold out,” I order. The remnants of my team obeys. I mark my heading as the corner straight across from us.

The three civilians run for the nearest doorways, pleading for those inside to let them in. The men pursuing us begin their barrage. The ground explodes at random intervals as bullets slam into it. The buildings light up with sparks. The space between them fills with the crackle of gunfire. The plasma on our backs let off a noise like a cattle prod.

Before I make it halfway across the intersection, every other sound is drowned by the roar of engines. A moment later, the noise is replaced with the whir of miniguns. A shadow springs from the ground at my feet as the light from the suns is blocked by something above me.

The road Pik came from disintegrates, massive bullets shooting shrapnel into the walls on every side. When I turn, I see the men behind us begin to fall like saplings in a hurricane. I look up in time to see three pairs of boots come down in a line between my team and our hunters. The men in those boots wear full body armor, everything from their ears to their feet protected. In their hands they hold SA17 ONYX’s, our high-caliber assault rifle. On their backs, a rope runs through an intricate track, lowering them to the ground at a rapid but controlled pace.

They reach the ground in the same moment and drop to one knee in synch. Together, they reach back and press against the side of the contraption on their backs. The lines that lowered them fall free. They rise and take three steps forward.

The street is now clear of living bodies; any that haven’t been killed scattered into the alleys and side streets. The air is silent except for the quiet humming of the vehicle hovering over us and the occasional gunshot every time one of our enemy decides to peek his head out.

“Elian,” the man on the left says.

The center man walks backward to us without removing his attention the street he aims at. He puts his hand on my back beneath the shield and pushes me forward. “Step up with us,” he says.

“Why?” I ask as I do what he says. The word barely leaves my mouth before air blasts me in the back and the ground shakes. I spin around to see the vehicle on the ground where I had just been standing.

The craft is much more sleek than the one I saw during the night. The nose is rounded, with the glass of the cockpit fitting in smoothly above it. The neck is straight, with layers of metal fit over each other. I know in flight the nose dips down like it is bowing. Small wings line up perfectly with the flat body, each housing an engine. The bottom of the rear end angles up sharply from the body; the top lies in line with the wings. An angled tail tips the back.

The sides of the VTOL stand wide open. Three more men in identical dress to the ones on the ground stand at the edge of the flat floor, their rifles raised. Behind them, another three men stand in the dark interior of the craft; those three wield only smaller Personal Defense Weapons and their armor is just in the form of a vest.

“On,” Elian orders, pushing me back onto the vehicle, between two of his heavily-armed colleagues. Pik and Tem follow me. As soon as we are inside, the three men on the ground step backward to form a wall of armor with the three already on the craft. The floor lurches as the engines push us off the ground and over the tops of the buildings. They rotate and propel us away from the broken towers.

“What about the others?” I ask. “Kraz and Cage’s bodies. And Mike and William are down there somewhere.”

“If you want to go back in, be my guest, but our priority is to get the rest of you out alive,” Elian says. “And in case you didn’t notice, some of them weren’t UDS, which means they’re the Phantom’s, which means they are ready to fight us.”

“You’re Forlorn Rangers,” Tem says. “From what I’ve heard, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“If it were just UDS, we’d be out with everyone in five minutes. As it is, we need to get out.”

I bow my head and slide to the floor. My shield deactivates and I set my rifle down beside me. Pik follows me lead. We both pant as the world races by through the open sides. With the adrenaline wearing off, I can hear my body screaming at me. The extra gravity has taken its toll, even if I couldn’t feel it.

“Going into orbit. Make sure your arms and legs are inside the vehicle,” a voice says over speakers.

Doors slide over the sides, sealing us inside the craft. The silhouette of a hand on a red canvas decorates the inside of one of them. Team names are written down each finger. On the palm is a single word: Divers.

“Holy shit,” Tem says, staring at the same mural. “You guys are DE34.”

“The Divers at your service,” Elian says as all six of them turn around.

“It’s a huge honor to meet you.”

“The honor is all ours. We’re not the ones that took on the Phantom himself and survived.”

“Yeah but…”

I shut my eyes and let Lola block out the conversation going on around me. It’s alright. This mission fell apart, but you survived. You can rejoin the fight and make him pay for what happened, she says.

Oh, he will pay. We will continue to hit him until everything he has collapses around him. Then we will cut his throat.

I have no doubt.

I lean back and lay may head on the ground. “Wake me when we land.”

 

 

 

 

 

My readings confirm that his suit is modified. I haven’t made sense of it, but the readings are definitely different than those from your suit. I will pass them off to the specialists. My cover within Acid Rain as Mr. Gulick is intact. Though, if I may, I think they can be trusted to be let in on our mission. Once their ranks are replenished, under the leadership of Samuel and as part of The Grip of Vengeance they could be very useful.
Of course sir. I will stay under with them. We await our next mission.