The Life- Illusion

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The Life- Illusion Page 24

by Lincoln Greene


  He took a deep breath, let it out, and began firing again. The second attempt went much better, and he even got a round direct center on the paper. One out of eight was not exactly filled with glory, but he smiled and looked back to bow slightly at the applause of his friends. Tigg called up the target, pulled it from the paper and nodded at Kurt. “Better. Not good, but better.” She slapped his shoulder as she walked past. “Assault course next!”

  Kurt’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what?”

  The assault course went well. Sort of. Kurt ended up having to run through it twice to get any kind of positive reaction from Tigg. The walls of the warehouse shifted and altered themselves on tracks, and the areas they formed were populated by strange police NPCs that didn’t move or speak. They fell to dust immediately upon being hit, and only fired laser pointers that cost him score. He ran through on a timer, attempting to take out all the NPC enemies while exposing himself to the least amount of counter fire possible. His second score was significantly better than his first, but Tigg still only grumpily expressed that he needed improvement. She guided him on how to improve though, and he noticed that when he followed her instructions, he did much better. The improvement of his personal skills was something he took great pleasure in, noting that he gained two levels of Small Arms and a level of Gunslinger just from the training. The percentage boosts were beginning to become powerful, he reflected momentarily, when combined with his sneak attack and exotic ammunition.

  An hour after he had arrived at the new hub, they were leaving again, with Kurt somewhat exhausted by the training. At least the booze didn’t last. The effects of any in game alcohol consumed wore off quickly unless reapplied. After Gadot and Jimmy sobered up, they got ready for the outing in the armory.

  Jimmy had reduced his equipment load somewhat for the evening. He emerged from the warehouse wearing a heavy tactical armored vest, with integrated pockets for four different magazines just above the beltline. Each pocket held a boxy magazine for the BAR, with distinct colors wrapped around their bases. Four shell racks were attached to his belt, each loaded with different colored shells, as usual. His BAR was in place at his back, with the super 90 shotgun beside it, and his odd looking double-barreled handgun was seated in a quick release rig at his thigh that extended up his leg with four different magazine well attachments. Kurt recognized an extended double magazine of +P jutting from the top of the rig, but the others were obscured beneath the wrap of the magazine pockets.

  Kurt glared at the sidearm for a moment. “Hey, what the hell is that gun?” He pointed at it, seeing Jimmy pat his pockets with a confused look on his face.

  In place of an answer, Jimmy pulled the firearm from its holster and tossed it to Kurt. A quick scan answered his questions.

  Arsenal Double-Barrel 1911

  Pistol. Sidearm. Weapon drops upon death only if equipped in the Primary/Secondary slot.

  Caliber: .45 ACP

  Rate of Fire: Semi-Automatic.

  Capacity: 8x8 Round Double Magazine. (or 8 round separate magazines)

  “This seems really weird to me.” Kurt spoke while shaking his head and handing the firearm back to his friend.

  Squinting one eye, Jimmy smiled and holstered the gun. “Yeah, but you’re an Infiltrator, not a Heavy like me.”

  Gadot had been shrugging into her fitted armor, and stopped to glare at Jimmy. “Woah hang on, a WHAT??”

  He smiled demurely and handed them both a card. “I got the upgrade during the hit on Ursa, didn’t want to distract you guys. My very own specialist class.”

  The Heavy

  Mr. James

  “Holy crud dude! Congrats!” Kurt grinned up at Jimmy. “That’s a seriously cool title too. Not just heavy, but THE heavy.”

  “Yeah, that’s great. I’ve never heard of it either, usually combat specialists get soldier related classes. Very cool Jimmy.” Gadot practically beamed at Jimmy, an uncharacteristically large smile on her face. She quickly became embarrassed and looked back at her gear. “I guess Big Bore was all you needed.”

  He gave her a quick smile before turning toward their vehicle for the night, a low slung 2015 four door Ford Mustang. It was midnight purple in color, with an obviously modified exhaust profile jutting from the rear of the vehicles skirts. “Yeah, it really was. I got it up to level ten fighting the Russians and that was that. Great bonuses to heavy armor and my usual arsenal. Couple cool tricks for high aggro weapons too.”

  After a few jostling but well-meaning shoves with his friend, Kurt ended up in the rear of the car, watching the landscape go by as they moved down the coast towards pirate turf. He was mildly disturbed to see a freeway sign go by overhead, covered in red spray paint and braced on either side by what looked like skeletons. It stated just a single phrase in large splashed lettering: “Abandon all hope, ye who enter.” The next sign on the freeway had similar adornments and the phrase: “Here there be monsters!”

  “How are there skeletons on those billboards??” Kurt peered through the rear window in confusion. “I thought everybody dusted when they die?”

  Jimmy snickered from the front seat. “Yeah, those are plastic. Party store gags, or stolen from like…medical school.” He pulled his sidearm and removed the large double magazine, replacing it with two separate magazines of specialty ammunition. One had a stripe of red and yellow, indicating Starburst rounds, and the other was a silver banded armor piercing magazine that Kurt recognized from his own arsenal. “Makes their point rather succinctly though, I feel. Not exactly a ‘stay off my lawn’ sign, just enough of a warning to let you know what you’re getting into.”

  The landscape passing by through the windows as they drove was somewhat ragged, having seen heavy action from the Pirates during the week. Buildings were blasted and burnt out, with street lights torn down, intentionally or by accident Kurt couldn’t tell. He watched a stripped down old hot rod careening around a corner, automatic weapons fire rattling off from inside as the police swerved wildly in chase. The pursuit passed directly beneath them as they drove by on an overpass.

  They pulled off the freeway at a coastal resort, with a towering hotel attached to a series of docks extending out into the ocean. The building was scorched, windows missing and burn marks extending all over the sides that were still intact. One corner of the top floor was simply gone, blast marks around the edges suggesting a detonation of some significance.

  “Should I be as nervous as I am right now?” Kurt fidgeted in the backseat, taking in the intimidating environment.

  Jimmy barked a laugh. “Naw man, they won’t like…eat you or anything. This resort is a regular raid, Pirates hit it every…Tuesday? I think. Anyway, yeah, they tend to leave the place pretty rough when they come ashore.”

  Gadot shook her head as she drove past the resort, pulling into a pockmarked parking lot in front of the docks. “Frigging Pirates…” She weaved between craters and parked her car directly in front of a barrel chested man in his thirties with a long braided blonde beard and shaved head, who was cradling a sawed off 40mm grenade launcher and wearing a pair of ragged knee length blue jean cut offs with a bandoleer of grenades across his otherwise bare chest. He casually turned it towards their vehicle and nodded his chin at them.

  “Jerome??” Jimmy perked up at the sight of him, getting out of the car and spreading his arms wide. “Jerome!!”

  The man squinted. “Turn yer blasted lights off!” As soon as Gadot obliged, he jumped up from his perch, spreading his arms and smiling wide. “Jimmy!! Get over here ye daft bugger!”

  As they embraced, Kurt opened his door and ran over to join in. “Jerome the Gnome!!” He latched onto the hug and the three of them bounced in a small, awkward circle as Gadot stared at them, one eyebrow raised.

  “Racialist!” Jerome scowled at Kurt, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in feigned indignation. “I was never a Gnome ye bastard!”

  Kurt stood back with a smile. “Gnome, Dwarf, what’s the difference?” The exchange was clea
rly familiar, as the short man with the long beard grinned from ear to ear. “I see you still like the black powder. Must be a few more options for you in this game.”

  Jerome clicked open the grenade launcher, playing with the shell a little. “Ohhhh, I be in a candy store, no denyin’ that.” He poked at Kurt’s suit jacket, revealing his arsenal. “Ye still prefer the fancy little weapons, o’course. Can’t take ye anywhere. Damn fine to see ye boyos back together though. Jimmy was lost without ye, Kurt.” Stroking his beard while attempting to look serious, he ignored a harsh jostle from Jimmy.

  “Slanderous! How’s the crew?” Jimmy was still smiling, though he looked out over the ocean to the various lights scattered across the horizon.

  “Oh fine, fine. Not the same without ye, of course, but can’t be helped.” Jerome seemed to remember something at that point, snapping his fingers. “What am I sayin, ye boys need to be facking off. I’m supposed to be meeting some delegation types, bringing ‘em in to see the Queen.”

  Jimmy shrugged, raising his arms and eyebrows at the same time. Kurt pulled a face, also shrugging.

  “Nay!! It’s YOU idiots?!” Jerome stalked down the dock behind them, shoving his grenade launcher in an oversized holster at his hip while muttering to himself. “Never tells me nuffin.”

  Gadot walked up behind them. “I assume you know him from Brescia.” She walked past, following Jerome down the dock.

  Kurt fell into step behind her. “Yeah, we grouped up a bunch of times back in the day.”

  “He transitioned to the Pirates quite naturally, we did a bunch of great runs in this game before I left.” Jimmy hefted his shotgun, covering their rear casually. “Good dude. And a pure Grenadier is actually really useful to have around.”

  They approached a rundown looking center console fishing vessel bobbing in the water at the end of the dock. It was covered in bullet holes and had what looked like the scars from a fire around the front end. Jerome got behind the wheel and brought the boat sputtering to life before looking at them expectantly. Jimmy hopped down into the boat, turning back to offer a hand to Gadot. She ignored it, stepping lightly down onto the deck and looking around like it might be sticky. Kurt reached for Jimmies hand, cautiously stepping onto the boat with his friends help.

  “Is this safe?” He looked around with obvious disgust on his face. “Like, it won’t sink?”

  Jerome shoved the accelerator handle into full, causing Kurt to fall over backwards onto a bench seat as the boat roared into the harbor. “Maybe!”

  From his vantage point on the bench, Kurt glanced over the lip of the boat, a death grip on the railing. “Please don’t sink us. I don’t know if there’s sharks, but I don’t like sharks.”

  Jimmy laughed from the bow. “No sharks dude, you’re ok. There’s no animals in this game at all.”

  Gadot walked over, using the handrails to steady herself. “Or children.”

  Cutting the wheel and taking them past a group of pleasure craft in a cluster, Jerome turned back, beard whipping in the salt spray. “Apparently we’re not to be trusted! Can-nay imagine why…”

  Kurt became paler the longer the journey went, still half sitting, half slumped in the bench seat. He noted with some distress that Jimmy was merely standing at the bow of the ship, one foot lifted against the bench there, perfectly steady no matter how hard they hit the waves. Entering the open ocean, Jerome cut the wheel again, turning them towards what appeared to be a brightly lit island nearby. Kurt looked again, peering at the twinkling lights in the distance as he saw what they really were. Several smaller vessels seemed to be clustered around one massive ship, and even at a distance, Kurt was able to hear loud music traveling across the water.

  As they approached, the scene became clear. A gargantuan oil tanker was the focal point of a party, with several other ships around it also hosting revelers. People were dancing and drinking to excess, occasionally firing weapons off into the air, or each other. The tanker was adorned with heavy metal plating, and splashed with incoherent patterns of paint all over the hull, most of it crimson. Jerome cut the boats engines and drifted towards the mess, grabbing a bullhorn and laying on an airhorn for a few seconds.

  “Clear a path ye daft bastards! Important officer business fer the Queen!” At his demand, a handful of ships did indeed fire up their engines and leave enough room for them to squeeze into. One particularly noisy sailboat ahead of them didn’t seem to notice and Jerome quickly became unhappy.

  “Shift her out the way ye great swingin’ tits!” He scowled over the top of the megaphone. “MOVE. THAT. BOAT.” When they still didn’t seem to hear, he reached for his grenade launcher. “Alright, be that way then. Where’s me flashbangs…?”

  Pawing at his bandoleer, Jerome pulled a shell out and squinted at it, shaking his head and slipping it back in place with the others. The next one he grabbed received a cursory inspection and a nod before being shoved into the stubby launchers tube. He stood and lobbed the shell at the ship with a quick flip of his wrist and a hollow thump sound.

  The boat ignited in a fireball that lazily reached up to the sky, illuminating the darkened sea around them as chunks of burning wood scattered and landed to sizzle on all sides. Jimmy picked up a bit of burning boat with his fingertips and casually dropped it over the side, unfazed by the chaos as hundreds of people all around them roared in cheers and laughter. “That was high ex Jerome. Flashbangs have a grey stripe. High ex is yellow.”

  Jerome stared at the sinking remains of the boat ahead of them, split in the middle and rapidly vanishing beneath the water. “…Oops. He-He!” With that and a shrug, he gunned the engine again, driving his boat through the gap in the crowd and approaching alongside the giant tug to dock. Varying ladders were scattered all along the sides of the tanker, and several standing floodlights illuminated the deck.

  “Learn the physical markers Jerome, it’s like ridges around the base of the grenade. They make them colorblind friendly. Or just turn on colorblind filters in the settings dude, c’mon.” Jimmy was clearly exasperated with the subject.

  His jaw setting petulantly, Jerome glared up at Jimmy. “I am NOT colorblind!” A frown cutting into his bearded features, Jerome guided their boat to bump against the side of the ship, and the space behind them rapidly filled in with revelers vessels.

  Gadot hesitantly followed Jimmy’s sure steps up a nearby ladder. The ladder trip was somewhat harrowing, as it dangled from an intimidating height.

  Kurt distracted himself by reading the name on the ship as they passed it, leaning out slightly to see it clearly. “Jahre Viking?”

  The answer came from above him, a bored sounding Jimmy explaining. “Yeah, it’s a legendary unique drop Kitty got way back in the day. The worlds single largest man made moving object. Taller than the empire state building from old New York. Came with a full cargo hold too, no idea what for.”

  “Probably a bonus sell item, if you can find a buyer. Oil was a sort of treasure in this era, I guess.” Gadot sighed and looked around somewhat nervously. “Are we ok? I assume that was Pirates crew we just blew up.”

  He turned back at the top, offering a hand to any who needed it. Gadot ignored it again, but Kurt was happy to be hauled the rest of the way up. “Pirates don’t take team-killing personally, as a rule. Happens pretty often. All the boats are stolen, and they’ll respawn probably here in the big party area anyway. This ship is the Pirates Stronghold. I’ve been on board…several dozen times.” His eyes gave a tired expression, and he shook his head slightly.

  “But their gear just sank. I imagine they’d be pissed about that?” Kurt dusted his knees off and buttoned his suit jacket. He began scanning the crowd, uncomfortable being around so many unpredictable players. A handful of gaunt men carrying shoddy looking assault rifles walked the edges of the party, identifiable to Kurt as probable NPCs by the similarity of their ragged clothing.

  Jimmy sighed slightly and stood with his hands on his hips, scanning the crowd with
Kurt. He didn’t look thrilled to be back. “When I was in the Pirates, we pretty quickly discovered that just carrying a decent weapon as a sidearm and not wearing armor meant that we respawned at more or less our fighting capacity with no financial loss. Why I use this thing.” He patted his sidearm. “It’s become a pretty common strategy here, to the point that most Pirates just don’t care about dying anymore.”

  Gadot stepped up next to them, shouting to be heard over the din of the party. “Yeah, I’ve watched a few Pirate ops. They station a Hub nearby, set their respawn to it, and then just rush whatever objective until they clear it or a ten bar washes them out. Crazy strategy, but shockingly effective.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Yep, that’s Kitty for you. She came up with it.” He pointed forward on the tanker, above the revelers. “And there she is.”

  Seated in a tall backed chair on the upper deck overlooking the dancefloor was a young woman, in her early twenties. The chair was trimmed in gold, draped in silk rags, and adorned with skulls on the front of the armrests. The woman herself was similarly decked out, a gold crown resting on her head underneath multi-colored hair, and silk ribbons sewn into her red leather outfit, heavy armored vest, and long peacoat. Her haircut was brash, composed of thick but soft spikes, each with a different hue of pink or blue. She was staring directly at them, and raised a hand in greeting when Jimmy pointed to her. Leaning over slightly, she said something to a nearby Pirate member and pointed at their group.

  The Pirate she had sent to them was an escort, and lead them towards a ladder on the main deck. They climbed up after him, leaving the party behind and approaching Kitty’s throne. She rose as they approached, reaching out towards Jimmy with open arms and a big smile. He nodded his head and moved to give her the hug she seemed to want, but was dismayed when she kicked him sharply between the legs, raising a cheer from the dancefloor. “That’s for screwing up our crew for six months!” Her voice was soft and light, but raised harshly.

 

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