by Brian Cotton
***
Sullivan gripped the Balaclava in his hands and pulled it over his face. He peered through the tinted lenses as the others did the same. There was a feeling of sheer disbelief that this was actually happening. The vehicle jolted to a stop. Everything was silent for a moment. X reached over and tapped him on the shoulder before he put his own mask on. Sullivan reached to his side, gripped the ZX-17, and then swung it over to his midsection. The eerie silence remained and everything seemed surreal. The former Agent, who swore to destroy the resistance, was now fighting for them. Once he stepped out of that vehicle, there would be no going back. Just when he thought the moment of silence would last forever, the back doors of the assault vehicle were swung open.
A deafening blare from the sirens of the building mixed itself with the bursts of gunfire.
Sullivan was the last out of the vehicle. The others in front of him took out the Agents who tried to converge on the vehicle. Once he was out, he could see one firing away at one of his squad mates. He shouldered his weapon and fired a three round burst, dropping his enemy. It wasn’t so bad which was a thought that struck him as odd. The sound outside was deafening and he could hear cries from men being wounded all around him. In front, to his right, lay a piece of the old White House, and he made a run for it, making sure to keep his head low. Once he made it there, he rested his back against it and wondered what would come next.
Pieces of the structure which he hid behind started to fly in the air from enemy rounds. Sullivan moved up, fired at another Agent, and took him out. All around the Capitol were the rebel vehicles. Those that were stationed at them fired at the enemies outside of the circle. Sullivan was stuck on the inside. Another rebel moved to his location and, for a moment, the former Agent had to keep himself from shooting at him. He still wasn’t used to them being his allies.
“You okay, Puerco?” X asked.
“Doing just fine,” Sullivan replied, lowering his weapon.
“We thought you were going to shoot us.” Statue said as he moved towards cover.
“What do we do now?” Sullivan asked.
“We’ve got to move in on that building, take out as many as we can, not get dead. Didn’t you pay attention at the briefing?” X demanded just before he moved up from cover and took down an Agent.
“Of course I did,” Sullivan shouted above the gunfire. “It’s just a little bit different when we are actually here.”
“What is?”
“The plan!”
.62
“How’s it going on your end?” Sanders demanded through Harvey’s earpiece, the sound of gunfire in the background.
“We’re almost there.” Harvey replied from the driver’s seat.
“Get a move on it!”
“On the way.”
Harvey wished that he could turn off the damn earpiece but he knew that he couldn’t. It was, after all, Sanders’s plan for Harvey’s team to hold back and allow the distraction to run its course. With a shake of his head, he continued to drive. Off to the right, he could see the target building and the rapid flashes from automatic weapons. The look of the ensuing battle actually brought a smile to his face. He had grown tired of assaulting random USR complexes. This is what it was about: assembling a force to rain down justice on their enemies.
His attention was returned to the road in front. The distraction seemed to be working well enough as there was no one on the road to block their path. He pressed down on the gas and the vehicle picked up speed. Once he took a hard right, the first sign of the enemy came into view. The masked rebel on top took aim with the .50. He fired at the two USR squad cars as the Agents panic fired back.
The bullets from the automatic shredded the cars. The Agents outside of them quickly moved out of the way before they were crushed to nothing. With a loud smash, the vehicle took the squad cars out and continued in its pursuit of the Capitol. The circle created by the rebels left a large enough gap in it for Harvey to drive through. When he did, he could see some of his comrades cheering him on. He kept his focus on the building in front, however, and kept on driving. Upon approach, he swung the steering wheel to the left, and then pulled the armored vehicle to the back of the building. He killed the engine and then reached for the intercom system above his head.
“Mission go!” he cried with enthusiasm.
Kaspar heard the call and swung the Kriss to his chest. The others did the same, all except for Clarke, who just sat back and struggled to get his mask on over his long, nappy hair. Kaspar moved over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“This is what you’ve been waiting for.” Kaspar said.
“Maybe I was in a little over my head.” Clarke replied.
“Just stick with me.”
The doors swung open and the rebels in the back were the first ones out. As Kaspar moved forward behind Clarke, he could feel him dragging his feet. With a shove, he forced the computer nerd forward without much protest from the target.
“You’ve got to move!” Kaspar shouted.
By the time they made it out of the vehicle, what few USR Agents were guarding the backdoor were taken out in quick succession. Harvey moved to the door and ordered the largest of the rebels to it. The rebel took hold of his shotgun and fired. The slug tore through the handle and Harvey kicked it the rest of the way open. He held his Kriss forward and did a quick sweep before signaling the others to move in.
The hallway which led to the back door was dimly lit, with the lights fading in and out. As they moved forward down the hall the sounds of the battle going on outside grew fainter. Two Agents moved in from an adjacent hallway. Harvey and the large rebel aimed and fired their weapons, taking the two enemies out. A third Agent reared his head and it was blown off with a three round burst from Harvey’s gun.
Once they reached the end of the hallway there was a stairwell to their left. Harvey huddled everyone together in front of the stairs. Kaspar and his friend were the last to join the huddle. Kaspar noticed that the masked man with the shaking leg now had shaking hands. All the others were calm and collected along with Harvey. Next to him, Kaspar swore he could hear Clarke beside him hyperventilating.
“Here’s the game plan…” Harvey started to say before Agents moved down the stairs.
“Tangos!” one of the rebels shouted.
Everyone, with the exception of Clarke, aimed their weapons at the incoming enemies and fired away. The Agents managed to get a few shots in before they were taken down. The rounds from their shots tore holes through the concrete walls, but missed their intended targets.
“Just move up to the fifth floor!” Harvey shouted.
.63
There was a young man, not much more than a boy, screaming with his mask off as he clutched at Sullivan’s feet. The former Agent tried to ignore it, but the louder the boy’s screams, the more it scorched at his soul. The boy’s armor was shredded and blood filled his mouth. Sullivan bent down to try and help him before a strong grip formed on his left shoulder.
“We can’t do anything for him, Puerco!” X cried. “Let’s move!”
Sullivan shook his head, yelled he was sorry, and moved on behind X. He kept his head down as the rounds from the enemy’s assault rifles flew above him. He joined up with X, Statue, Dopey, Pinkie, and Sugar who were all bent down behind a piece of rubble. They all checked up on each other’s status. Pinkie had a bullet graze his arm, Sugar’s migraines were kicking in, and X’s wounded leg was still holding up with little pain. Other than that, they were all fine, for now.
“What now?” Sullivan wondered.
“We stay alive,” X replied, “and we kill as many of those bastards as we can.”
With that said they each moved up, found enemy targets, and fired away.