by Jim Roberts
“Someone give me a hand here, dammit!” Walker shouted over the noise of combat.
The Secutor made a creepy hissing noise as it fought against the gunrunner. It was about to overwhelm him when Krieger stepped over, shoved the auto-shotgun into its face and pulled the trigger.
The head of the Olympus Siren exploded in a shower of red matter, splattering Walker. “Jesus Christ!” he swore loudly.
Krieger grasped his old comrade by the shoulder and pulled him up. “Don’t let fact that they are women stop you. They won’t hesitate to kill us all!”
Joe followed the team as they made for the small gap in the flames. Krieger and Walker went through first, shielding their faces from the rising flames on both sides. Once through, they charged forward up the ravine, not looking back.
Petrol was about to pass through the gap when Joe noticed the drone above them made an immediate course correction. The flames spiraled toward Petrol like a swirling fountain of molten gold.
“Petrol! Look out!”
The Peacemaker had just enough time to hold up an arm before he was covered in a chemical bath of white phosphorous. Flames exploded over his body as he stumbled backward in front of Braddock.
Petrol’s luck had just run out.
Joe tried to reach the man to help but was cut off by a heavy rain of chemical fire that threatened to sear his face off. The disgusting garlic stench of the chemical was overbearing to Joe as he was forced to move away from the staggering body of Petrol. Joe watched in absolute horror as the man’s skin melted away to reveal blood and bone. Petrol reached for Joe with fleshless arms.
“Help…me…Sergeant…” the man babbled as his face and mouth were burned away. His eyes melted in his skull, running in rivulets down his face.
Jesus fucking Christ…
Petrol lurched toward Joe like a shambling zombie. In all his life hereafter, Joe would never forget the sight. More phosphorous splashed across the man, turning him into a human torch. Held transfixed by the image of his comrade burning alive, Joe was almost caught in the fire when he felt a hand grasp him from behind and pull him back. Petrol vanished within the molten flames, his body seared to oblivion by the deluge of fire.
Joe turned as if in a daze to see Agrippina’s soot covered face yelling to him.
“Snap out of it Braddock! The Secutors are coming!”
Joe came to from the shock. He saw there were no exits from the burning forest now. He hoped against hope that Krieger and Walker had managed to escape the firetrap.
The drones had created a perfect fenced-in arena for the final showdown. Joe could see more Secutors skittering down from the treetops. Joe fired his M4A1 for all it was worth, catching one of the displaced killers in the helmet. The 5.56 round cored through the Secutor’s brain, causing it to de-shroud and pitch to the ground.
But for every enemy he killed, two more seemed to take its place. They swept down from the trees and through the blazing fire around them. Joe knew they couldn’t hold for long.
“Aggy, back to back. Take as many of them with us as we can!”
Agrippina held out her pistols.
“See you in hell, Braddock!”
The two warriors, Olympus and Peacemaker, fought with every ounce of strength against the oncoming horde of Secutors. Joe blazed away with his M4A1, taking down several attackers with carefully aimed bursts. Agrippina fired her guns like a madwoman, howling a bloody combat roar that echoed across the valley. Joe followed suit, roaring like an animal as he gunned down enemy after enemy in a torrent of blood and fire. He triggered his M-203 launcher, watching in satisfaction as the grenade caught three of the Secutors in its blast, ripping their bodies to gruesome pieces.
As they fought, Agrippina was soon overwhelmed with Secutors on her side of the fray. She dropped her pistols and drew her twin wakizashi—bolting forward to meet her enemies mano a mano. Moving amidst the dense jungle undergrowth, sure-footed as a panther, Agrippina became a killing machine as she diced through the Secutors like a pastry chef.
In the moment, Joe felt himself disconnect from his body and act purely on instinct. He tracked his enemies through the burning ravine and cut them down as if it were nothing. When his rifle clicked on an empty magazine, Braddock simply turned the weapon out of its cheek weld position, punched out the dry mag for a fresh one and ran the action—the entire movement taking mere seconds of time.
The brutal hell of the jungle seemed far away as he simply focused on killing as many Secutors as he could.
A bladed gauntlet sliced across his arm, forcing him back to reality. One of the Secutors had managed to get within arm’s reach of him and had cut through the thick STF suit with a slower moving attack that the dilatant gel was unable to stop. Joe reversed his rifle and slammed it butt first into his enemy’s face, dropping the trooper to the ground, out cold.
As he went to grasp another magazine, Joe found he’d gone dry. Dropping the rifle, he withdrew his M9 Beretta and continued to fight.
Slowly, the attack began to subside. The Secutors had either had enough or were regrouping against the Peacemaker’s fierce defense.
Joe looked over at Agrippina, who’d just finished yanking her sword from the neck of a Secutor. Giving the blade a quick whipping gesture to clean off the blood, she rejoined Braddock.
“They’re bugging out!” Joe said, not understanding why their enemies weren’t pressing their advantage.
“No—” Agrippina said, her eyes focused on opposite side of the ravine, “—she’s here.”
Joe didn’t have time to ask what she meant. The whirring drones above them increased in speed. More phosphorous sprayed down, escalating the flames that were fast spreading across the ravine. The fumes were getting thicker, forcing Joe to cough violently.
From the south side of the jungle canyon facing them, something emerged from behind the wall of fire.
A woman.
Joe watched in fascination as a bald-headed woman moved through the chemical fire as if it were nothing. The drone above her began to spin and rain down more phosphorous, splashing the molten flame across her body—all to no effect. Her face was impossibly calm, almost at peace with causing such sheer destruction.
“Fausta…” Agrippina said under breath.
Joe slid his last clip into his M9, asking, “How is she—”
“No time to explain. Look—”
Fausta held her arms out. The four drones started to spin again. The incendiary fire cascaded once more on all sides. The fumes were becoming impossible for Joe. His eyes felt like they were bleeding. He was about to black out.
Agrippina caught him, shaking Joe roughly.
“Don’t crap out on me, Braddock. It’s either we kill her or she kills us!”
“What can we do?” Joe asked, his voice hoarse from the chemical fumes.
“Just cover me. I’ll take her.”
“How?”
Agrippina looked at Braddock, a glint in her eye.
“Trust me.”
The phosphorous drones closed in on them, raining their poisonous chemical down upon any stretch of forest untouched by flame. Joe had no choice but to do as the Olympus assassin told him and hope it was enough.
Agrippina twirled her wakizashi. “Keep the Secutors off me. Stay away from the fire as long as you can.”
“Right,” Joe managed to gurgle. He held his M9 out, barely able to see two feet ahead of him.
Agrippina walked toward the advancing Siren. The bald woman's flesh glowed in the shower of flame.
“You’re still as weak as when I first met you, Fausta,” Agrippina called out to the fire demon in front of her, “Let’s see if you’ve learned anything since then!”
Fausta, for the first time, let out a scream—a primal call of rage that shook Joe to his core. Holding out her arms, she made a grandiose gesture toward the black-clad assassin. The drones, spinning their molten contents in a cascade of death, swooped toward Agrippina. Gripping her weapons, the Ol
ympus harpy tensed herself for just the right moment.
What happened next, Joe Braddock would never forget as long as he lived.
Agrippina surged forward, leaping across the forest floor like a fox avoiding the hunt. Fire rained down around her, splashing across the trees and brambles and setting them alight. Somehow, she was able to avoid the twirling flames, dodging at just the right moment before the area she’d just been was set ablaze. Fausta screamed louder, holding her arms straight out at Agrippina. The drones altered course to intercept the black-clad assassin, but couldn’t track her fast enough.
Joe saw a Secutor bolt out of the trees to stop Agrippina’s attack. Doing his best to fight back the hideous fumes, he sighted the Olympus trooper and fired. He saw the round take the blurred killer in the back. With its displacement shroud deactivated, Joe shot it again through the neck.
When Agrippina had closed enough distance between herself and the blazing Siren, she leapt into the air with all the strength she could derive from her artificial legs. Like a javelin from an Olympic medalist, she hurtled toward Fausta, her swords held in outstretched arms. The fire had abated around Fausta, just enough for Agrippina to land in front of her.
Sweeping her blades in a wide arch, Agrippina separated the Siren’s head from her shoulders.
A geyser of blood sprayed forth from the wound. The head landed at the feet of the still standing body, eyes wide with shock. It took another second before the body crumpled to the ground as well.
Agrippina flourished her blades.
Joe could barely see a smile stretch across her face.
WITH THE Siren dead, Joe heard a strange noise above him. Looking into the sky, he saw the drones had stopped spinning and were starting to convulse. With their controlling master dead, they were malfunctioning.
Joe looked back toward the northern side of the ravine. He couldn’t spot Krieger or Walker anywhere, but he did see a way through the cooling fires. Retrieving his M4 from its resting place, he tried to run but tripped and fell. His head was swimming from the fumes.
Can’t see…can’t walk…
He felt helpless.
A hand grabbed him by the arm. A voice shouted in his ear.
“Braddock, run!”
Agrippina.
Somehow he put his legs in front of the other on top of the uneven ground. The Olympus harpy pulled him along, practically carrying him as they went.
The drones plummeted down behind them.
Just as they had cleared the wall of fire, the drones slammed into the earth, carpeting the area with an explosion of molten flame.
The force almost knocked Joe off his feet. He felt heat behind him like he’d never imagined. Agrippina pushed him up the northern side of the ravine, heedless of the fire consuming the jungle.
By the time they’d traveled halfway up the ravine, they heard a boom overhead, followed by another further away.
Thunder.
Finally, it started to rain.
THE TWO survivors stumbled up the hill, with Joe leaning heavily on Agrippina’s shoulder. The rain felt like a cooling drug poured from a cosmic syringe. As they moved further away from the fires, the fumes gradually disappeared. Joe felt his head clear, at least enough for him to see a few feet ahead.
He pulled away from Agrippina’s grasp and said, “Thanks, I think I can walk on my own.”
The rain was coming down in buckets now, sluicing its way into the ravine. Joe looked back toward the battleground. The rain had lifted the fog and he could see the lake of fire begin to extinguish. The burning trees around the area were doused, returning the jungle to a modicum of normality.
Joe coughed up what felt like a lung. He noticed Agrippina clutching her arm.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine, just singed, that’s all.”
Joe took a closer look and saw that her armor had melted completely away. Her arm was burned across the forearm, with several grisly boils popping up on her reddened skin.
“We need to get that treated,” Joe said.
“I’m fine. Let’s worry about finding Walker and your idiot friend first.”
“Don’t be stupid. What use are you with only one arm?”
Remembering his field training, Joe gathered up several large leaves from some of the plants surrounding them on the ravine slope. His rucksack and first aid kit were long gone—burnt to a crisp during the fight. Holding the leaves under the rain, he collected as much water as possible before clasping them to Agrippina’s arm. The assassin grimaced in pain at the makeshift poultice. Joe ripped off a piece of what remained of his fatigues and tied it around her arm.
“Thanks,” said Agrippina, moving her arm to inspect the wrap.
“Thank you. You saved my life…again.”
Agrippina scoffed, “It’s becoming a habit with you, Braddock.”
“Well, we’re unarmed and lost. Hopefully, Krieger and Walker didn’t get too far ahead. Or killed for that matter. Oh by the way, back there—you and the fire woman…”
“Yeah, what?”
“How did you manage to dodge her attacks like that?”
“You expect me to tell you all my secrets?”
“I guess not.”
“I did learn something about you, Joe Braddock.”
“Oh yeah, what?”
“You’re no pushover. You may live up to Lennox’s expectations after all.”
“What do you mean?”
Agrippina shrugged off the question. The two companions continued up the slope which became more and more arduous as they went. The rain had softened the ground, making each step harder than the last. Helping each other along, grabbing any handhold they could manage, they finally saw the top of the hill.
“Just a bit farther,” Joe said, holding out his hand to Agrippina.
The assassin knocked it away, “I can walk fine. Keep going.”
Joe rolled his eyes as he looked back up the hill. “Jesus, woman, what’s it take to melt your heart—”
His words were interrupted by a rifle barrel being shoved right into his face.
Joe stared into the barrel cross-eyed before saying, “Oh.”
Agrippina attempted to reach her wakizashi, but several more weapons appeared over the crest of the hill. The guns were clasped in the hands of soldiers—heavily armed militants, unlike any Joe had ever seen. Finishing their climb, Joe and Agrippina saw there were at least two dozen soldiers, each armed with Remington ACR assault rifles, heavily tricked out with advanced gadgetry. Their clothing was a patchwork design that featured dark green tactical combat suits, similar to Joe’s own STF outfit. On their heads, they wore balaclavas with high-tech goggles over their eyes.
Between the strange soldiers were two familiar faces, kneeling on the ground with their hands behind their backs.
“Joe, my good friend!” Krieger shouted over the rain, “We found the Vagabonds. They are…not happy to see us, I think.”
Chapter 19
The Longest Night Begins
Olympus Tower, Caracas, Venezuela, October 6th
TITUS WAS fuming as the glass elevator made its ascent up the skyscraper toward the Olympus Operations floor. Outside, rain poured down from black clouds, perfectly mirroring Titus’s foul mood.
The day had been aggravating for the young Secondus, having been forced to deal with numerous reports of Vagabond attacks on Government barricades across the entire city. Then there was the attack by VPA regulars against Olympus checkpoints in the Libertador Parish district of Caracas, which housed the Presidential palace, among other public ministries. His smartphone had been ringing with constant updates and requests by the Venezuelan government to increase Olympus presence in the ritzier parts of the city.
Compared to this headache of an operation, his first command in Sadoma City a year ago felt like a cake-walk. At least there he only had to deal with one shouting lunatic, rather than dozens.
Right now, all Titus wanted was to find Falco. Hi
s Tribune had vanished sometime early this morning with no word to anyone.
The elevator chimed as it opened onto the second floor from the top—the Operation offices. Titus stepped out into a sea of organized chaos. On this floor and the six below it were the Olympus technicians and bureaucrats running the day to day operation of the PMC throughout Venezuela. The renovated offices were crammed with all manner of surveillance technology, keeping tabs on Olympus squads and checkpoints across Caracas. Information was coordinated between here and either the Titan or Ascension Island. Everything was linked in Olympus. Information was shared across the massive network of peer to peer technology that allowed the PMC to stretch itself across so many war zones at once.
As soon as Titus entered the floor, several of the techs moved to stand as far away from the odious masked commander. He marched through the office, his pace quickening as his anger rose to a fever pitch.
Upon reaching the largest room on the floor—the Intelligence Hub—he found the man he was looking for, standing over a large holographic table showing a layout of the city of Caracas.
“My Lord Saladin,” Titus belted across the bustling office, “Where the hell is Falco?”
Putting down the report he was reading, Saladin stood to attention. “I know not, my Secondus. Apparently, he was called away from Caracas earlier today.”
“Called away?”
Saladin nodded, “Yes, my lord. As I understand it, Tiberius required him for some sort of mission unrelated to ours. More than that, I haven’t heard.”
Titus slammed a fist down against the holographic table, smashing the delicate glass surface. The image on the table sparked for a moment before shorting out completely.
“Inform me immediately when he returns.”
Saladin nodded politely, “Of course, my Secondus.”
Titus stormed back across the office as technicians fell over each other to get out of his way.
What did Tiberius need Falco for?
While Titus was pretty much unable to trust anyone, Falco came closest to what he would consider a tried and true ally. He always thought the man to be loyal, even when he disagreed with Titus’s ideas. There were far too few allies left for him within the Brotherhood. He needed every helping hand right now.