The Life- Illusion

by Lincoln Greene

  “How many are left?” An urgent whisper, too close for Kurt’s comfort, sounded from around the corner. She had returned to the hallway outside his office before losing his trail.

  “Just the four of us Molly…what do we do?!” The responding voice was clearly nervous. “Those sounds his weapon makes…all the smoke…what the hell is it?!”

  “Use the hand signals for our numbers!” Molly responded in a harsh whisper, clearly unhappy with her crew. “It’s just a Unique, calm down.”

  Deciding it was time to make an impression, Kurt stood up and gripped the Messenger as he stepped out into the hallway and faced his remaining enemies. He cocked his head to the side and allowed his mask to do the work of intimidating the source of the male voice he had heard. The man took a stumbling step backwards, pointing at Kurt and gaping like a fish. Kurt nodded at him as Molly turned, already raising the monster shotgun she used. He raised the Messenger and put a round into the man’s gaping mouth even as he started running again, crossing the hallway in a single step and vanishing into the nearby office. Molly and her two remaining team-mates immediately followed, running directly into the flashbang Kurt tossed back into the room, after ducking around the corner in the hallway.

  To her credit, Molly could really work that shotgun. Kurt had to duck down low as she blind-fired steel buckshot at full auto through the walls around him. He waited until he heard the distinct click of her magazine running dry before stepping into the doorway and shooting both of her friends in critical hit areas as they scrambled to hide from the gun blasts they knew were coming. She stopped attempting to reload her shotgun, the drum magazine slipping and clacking against the bottom of the gun. Molly let her hand go slack, unable to see the magazine or shotgun she clasped.

  “Just do it, you bastard.” She spoke through grit teeth, her head shaking in frustration.

  Kurt moved silently, stepping in close before answering her, the Messenger down at his side. His voice was barely audible, a mere growl. “As you wish.” The gunshot lit the room and Molly went down, collapsing into a pool of black smoke. Stepping back towards the stairwell, Kurt glanced at his phone to see the thirty minute marker slide by with a chime. The enemy count was now down to just under two hundred.

  Kurt cracked the door open carefully, peering down the stairwell before entering. He shrugged at the emptiness and started climbing at a leisurely jog, the assumption that nobody would want to climb forty flights of stairs to get to him keeping him going. He huffed up the stairs, glancing downward every so often to make sure his flashlight beam was the only one in the stairwell. Stopping at the fortieth floor to rest a bit, Kurt caught his breath for a moment. “This is a wonderful time waster.” It’d take any enemy team minutes to climb all the way up to get to him.

  Then came the heavy helicopter rotor sounds from above him, and he slumped in despair as the roof door above him slammed open, daylight pouring into the stairwell. “Oh come on…”

  Peering above him to see almost two dozen players coming down the stairs towards him, Kurt quickly ducked out onto the nearest floor. He immediately realized his mistake as he took in the mostly empty area. The floor was unused and had nothing but a handful of construction equipment clusters set up in it. A few cans of empty paint, a hand truck here or there, but nothing substantial enough to even hide behind. The windows were also uncovered, allowing plenty of the late afternoon sunlight to pour in and illuminate the empty floor. A quick glance at his map showed the new team encroaching down the stairs quickly, and Kurt was able to hear the shouts of excitement and heavy boot falls echoing in the stairwell behind him.

  Running out of time, Kurt came up with a plan on the fly. He grabbed all four of his smoke sticks from the ankle holster and popped the caps on them, running in a circle around the central pillar and throwing each of them in a spread-out pattern on the floor. That finished, he grabbed one of his flares and waited, his back pressed to the elevator door while the entire floor began to fill with tactical smoke. As soon as he could hear players in the stairwell behind him, he popped the cap on his flare and tossed it across the room, aiming for a corner by the windows.

  Right on time, the door slammed open and a group of players filed in, several of them commenting on the smoke. Kurt smiled as the smoke sticks sputtered out, their job complete. He couldn’t see much past his own body and smiled as he pulled up his map to navigate.

  “Where is he?!” “Who’s got thermals?!” “What the hell??” The voices continued as more players entered the now smoke filled floor, each one causing pings on the map and making Kurt’s job that much easier. He slid around the wall and stood out in the open close to the players as a voice with more authority emerged from the stairwell. A quick glance at the players gear told him this was not a regular group like the last one he had faced. These people had teamed up to stop him from winning, and likely were in different factions. “Everyone stay quiet! I have thermals, form up on me, stay close.” Kurt pulled his mask off and fell in with the group, moving in close behind the make shift leader with the thermal goggles.

  “Oh, sorry.” He spoke offhandedly to the man he had jostled; the leader of the group.

  “Not that close, stay within visual range though. This bastard is hiding in the smoke somewhere.” The man had no clue who Kurt was.

  His eyes rolled unconsciously, and Kurt stepped up close behind the leader. “Got it boss, just tell me where to shoot.”

  The leader nodded, turning as he strapped his thermals in place. He performed a quick visual sweep of the team at his back, and then the room. “There!” His voice was a hissed whisper as he lifted a rifle to his shoulder and aimed carefully. He fired off a few bursts of rounds, before standing up and starting towards the corner Kurt had thrown his flare. “On me!”

  His rifle fired in three round bursts, and as he moved he stopped to shoot a handful more times. Kurt heard the bullets crack into the windows in the corner and shook his head slightly, remembering to stay in character. “You get him boss?!” He kept his own voice low, Glock raised as he moved with the group of enemy players. They arrived at the corner, and the leader stepped up to investigate the flare. Kurt turned and pointed at the various players around them, giving vague hand signals to direct them. He created a small perimeter, each player facing outward as the group was spread out across that section of the room. That done, he turned and stepped up behind the group’s leader as he picked up the now burnt out flare.

  “What the…” His question was cut off as Kurt shoved him, hard. The man stumbled and fell through the shot up window, shattering it and plummeting with a piteous wail.

  Smoke began to pour out of the new hole in the building as Kurt turned and pointed behind the group towards the stairwell. “Behind us!!” He fired his Glock over a nearby players shoulder, ducking behind them as the player he had shot returned fire. Suddenly the map began to fill with bright red traitor dots, and Kurt chuckled as he moved to sow more confusion. “OVER THERE!!” He shouted and fired his Glock in another burst. He aimed for players, figuring a basic position by their pings to his map, but he didn’t bother trying to kill any of them, merely encouraging the crossfire already taking place.

  Kurt ducked behind a nearby player in heavy armor and stayed in close to his back as the man pivoted in place, gunning down their friends as they were flagged as traitor on the map. He never realized he was also flagged traitor, and panic spread quickly through the ranks as more and more of the two dozen players became flagged. Kurt left the group as their fire fight began in earnest, ducking behind the central pillar and reloading his Glock before holstering it. He leaned back against the wall and watched the fun unfold on his map, as the enemy team did his work for him.

  A single player ran over to him in a panic, shooting over his shoulder as he went. “What the hell is going on?!”

  “I don’t know man, I just hid. Everybody’s goin’ nuts!” Kurt had to suppress the snicker in his voice. “I kinda just wanna go back to hitting a
rmored cars…”

  “Yeah I hear that.” The gunfire dwindled and faded out as the glaring red dots on the map vanished. “Holy shit are we all that’s left?” His new friend paused to glance at his wrist.

  “No…” Kurt stood, turning away and putting his wolf mask on. He lifted the Messenger at his buddy. “You’re all that’s left.” The man turned, smoke obscuring his vision partially as Kurt stepped forward and pulled the trigger at point blank range. The forty-five minute chime sounded and Kurt smiled widely.

  Before Kurt could congratulate himself too much, the building shook as it was rocked by a series of powerful explosions. Swaying on his feet, Kurt staggered over to the windows his tactical smoke poured from. Gripping the edge and looking down, he saw the reason for the explosions. The long bodied trailer truck he had seen on the freeway earlier had arrived and set up shop down at the base of the building, guarded by three tanks. The Smerch was upon him. It had extended long metal bracing legs and the rack of tubes on its back had lifted to point at the building’s lobby. As Kurt watched, several puffs of flame and smoke erupted from its back end, sending rockets slamming into the buildings base. The floor shook, the building screamed as metal tore and everything began to list ever so slightly to one side. Kurt’s eyes went wide as the floor shifted slightly beneath his feet. An empty paint can tumbled and rolled past him, plummeting from the window as the scream of twisting metal continued, emanating from deep inside the structure. It appeared they had given up on hunting him down properly and were just going to bring the entire building down to get the kill. The rattle of an SMG and the sharp sting of wasp sting-like bullets taking out the last of his armor indicated the Smerch may have been too late.

  Kurt whirled on the source of the latest attack, spraying a magazine from his Glock at the biker in the doorway of the stairwell. “ENOUGH!!” He roared as he charged, ignoring the incoming fire and dropping the Glock when it ran dry. Kurt hauled the Messenger from its holster and fired three times while sprinting towards the white suited biker. One round struck him in the chest, and he wheezed as he staggered backwards, trying to put the doorway between himself and Kurt while he scrambled to reload his chrome plated FN90. Kurt slammed into the door with a heavy kick, stepping around it as the biker stumbled with a pained grunt. He shot the man in the chest point blank three more times with the Messenger, staggering him backwards before he stepped in close and shoved his helmet, hard. The biker fell backwards over the railing of the stairwell and plummeted until he struck a railing a few floors down and puffed into silver dust directly beside Jimbo.

  The older man raised his hands. “Woah, truce kid!” He started walking up towards Kurt again, wiping at the dust on his suit coat. “I came to help…but seems like you’re doing just fine.”

  Kurt’s eyes narrowed at his mercurial acquaintance, the Messenger raising. “What in the HELL are you doing here Jimbo?!” He strongly considered just shooting the other man for a moment.

  Jimbo continued climbing the stairs, not bothering to answer until he was close enough to be heard without shouting. “I happen to enjoy this mode. I’ll admit, I don’t always play it, but I like to check in and see who’s playing Fox, might be somebody I know.” His eyebrow raised significantly at Kurt. “I saw you sign up and thought you could maybe use a friendly face.” He shrugged, nodding at the Messenger with an impressed look. “Nice unique. Guess my role wasn’t that important after all.” Jimbo finished with a slow nod, standing before Kurt on the stairwell, hands in his pockets.

  “So you just showed up to help out? A friend indeed.” Kurt sniffed, holstering the Messenger after performing a reload. He moved to pick up his discarded Glock, reloading and holstering it too, keeping an eye on Jimbo as he did. “I’m touched Jimbo.”

  “Ahh, you got me.” The other man ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “I came to say something, and it felt like it might have more weight here.” His gaze lifted to meet Kurt’s. “I’m in.”

  A sigh of relief attempted to escape Kurt, but he suppressed it, facing the man. He removed his mask and tucked it away into his jacket pocket again, allowing a look of mild apprehension to cloud his features. “In? Like…”

  “Yeah kid, the GoonStorm buyout. You and me, fifty-fifty. I know where it’s being held for transfer to the Ursa, all one big shipment, all dirty cash.” Jimbo stared at Kurt hard, watching for any kind of reaction.

  Kurt allowed himself to become slightly excited, increasing his rate of breathing slightly and showing a faint smile. “Tomorrow then?”

  “GET DOWN KID!” Jimbo charged the few steps to his position and grabbed his coat, turning and throwing him sideways onto the floor. High caliber rounds ripped through the room, instantly turning Jimbo into silver dust as the Harrier loomed in the broken window.

  Kurt rolled away, the screaming fire from the Harrier’s nose cannon attempting to track him as the pilot slipped it away from the building, distraction not a friend to the hover capable fighter jet. As the building continued to slowly lean, he tumbled across the floor to the window and grabbed the edge as he stood up, leaning against the broken glass. He glanced at the timer and shook his head to see the fifty-five minute mark slide by as the Harrier approached again. “Well, at least I don’t have to fall forty floors to get killed.”

  The Harrier slid up directly in front of Kurt, the blowback from its jet engines swirling smoke all around as its underslung multi-barreled gun began to spin up. He raised a defiant gesture at the tinted cockpit, before suddenly ducking back onto the floor and going flat. A brightly painted orange and blue helicopter with the logo “Illusion City Tours!” emblazoned on its side slammed into the Harrier from above, crushing its struts and shattering the cockpit of the jet in a scream of twisting metal and shattering glass. The Harrier fired wildly, its nose smashing against the building as it twisted out of control. With a surge of its engine, the helicopter lifted a few floors, and then dipped its nose, slamming into the top of the Harrier one final time.

  A piece of wing snapped off against the building and the Harrier began to spiral towards the ground. The pilot ejected, shooting strait up out of sight in the air above the building, but the now flagged helicopter pilot swung back out from the building. The helicopter hung awkwardly, swaying back and forth until the Harrier’s pilot fell screaming into its rotors, puffing into silver dust with a horrible grinding sound. Kurt crawled to the ledge to see the rocket launcher truck start up again, with a dozen streaks of smoke lancing into the lobby and exploding in sequence. The entire building shuddered as something started to give, deep inside. Spiraling with jet black smoke pouring from its engines, the Harrier fell to land on top of a nearby tank and both erupted, launching a fireball slowly into the air.

  The helicopter was back at his window, swaying and rocking back and forth as its engines sputtered. Gadot was visible in the cockpit, struggling with the control stick as she glanced between the building and her console, her black hair whipping around with the movement. Kurt took a deep breath and stood up, moving back into the building slightly. He nervously glanced at the helicopter outside of the window, attempting to gauge the window and the distance he needed to jump for this insanity to be even remotely plausible. Gadot continued fighting to control the helicopter, shouting wordlessly at Kurt with what he assumed was a polite but firm instruction to jump. Taking a deep breath, he started sprinting towards the window. Gadot rocked the helicopter sideways, exposing the open bay door as Kurt flung himself out the window.

  He slammed into the side of the helicopter, grabbing at a cargo net strapped onto the floor while his feet scrambled at the mangled struts for leverage. Gadot veered the helicopter away from the building as a series of loud cracks rang out over the rotors and it began to collapse. The roar of steel and concrete tumbling to the ground deafened him to all else, and Gadot’s shouted instructions at him went unheeded. A heavy dust cloud rose and provided them some reasonable cover from the machine gun fire that streaked towards them spora
dically. The ground teams couldn’t get a proper line of sight to bring down the helicopter and were using their maps to get a general idea of where to shoot, bullets snapped around them and filled the air with only a handful sinking into the helicopter itself. Kurt turned to watch behind them as the building he had just occupied crashed into the ground fully, spreading chaos and destruction around it. The two buildings closest to it went down as well, having been dragged down by its collapse into them.

  Kurt scrambled more fully into the cabin, still clinging to the cargo netting. “Holy crap Gadot! Thanks for the save, but you…!” He puffed out a breath. “I actually feel kind of bad for that guy.”

  “You NEVER have to feel bad for anything you do to a player in a Harrier Kurt. Not ever.” Gadot fought the stick as a heavy sniper round sunk into the helicopter, and their engines stalled. “Get ready, this won’t be pretty!” She aimed the helicopter at a nearby rooftop, beside the bay.

  Kurt braced himself, lying flat on the cabins floor. “I thought you couldn’t fly choppers!?”

  “Not very well, no!” The helicopters engine cut out momentarily, stuttering back to life with a cough of heavy black smoke. Two separate alarms began to ring out, blaring over the top of each other. “Missile lock! Jump Kurt! Jump now!” She lowered the helicopter, holding her place over a nearby rooftop.

  Risking a glance backwards, Kurt saw the trail of the missiles streaking towards them from the ground near the collapsed buildings. The last gasp of the Smerch, it crumpled in a muted fireball as debris from the collapsing buildings crushed it. He let go of the net and fell backwards out of the open door, dropping a thankfully short distance onto the rooftop and rolling violently against the gravel. The missiles screamed over his head and slammed into Gadot’s tour helicopter one at a time, shoving it sideways through the air in a series of fiery explosions. From his prone position on the rooftop, he watched helplessly as the burning helicopter was drilled into a building by the succession of missiles a few blocks over and erupted in another explosion, showering the road with glass and burning metal. Kurt gave himself a moment to lay flat against the rooftop, rolling over onto his back and just breathing. As he lay on the hard uncomfortable gravel, he pulled up his wrist to watch the timer run out one second at a time.