by Nick Cole
“Hey . . .” She pauses. Then, “Sounds bad. What’s going on?”
“I can’t get into it right now. Let’s win one tonight and then have a drink in the bunker.”
“It’s a date,” she says, and then her avatar makes a pistol with one hand and fires.
The conversation ends as RangerSix broadcasts our assignments.
“Kids, tonight’s a retreat. And it’s no treat. ColaCorp has ponied up enough assets to buy us a carrier relief force if we can make it back to Song Hua City on the other side of the bridge. That’s it. They want us to hold Song Hua Harbor, this side of the bridge, tonight. We get all our field assets off the map and onto the carrier group, we get to fight next week, but we’re looking at a death match if that’s the case. Effectively, that’s it for us in the league. Last week was our must win. As of now, WonderSoft corporate is asking to be declared the winner of Eastern Highlands. This gives them the AtomMall advertising for the next quarter. In short, we lost.”
“So what’s the purpose of tonight?” asks Kiwi over the ether.
“Good question, son. And I don’t have an answer for you. Other than that they weren’t declared the winners in the last match, as the league felt their victory wasn’t dynamic enough. You made ’em pay with a lot of tanks, and we got our artillery out of there. Thus, Song Hua Harbor tonight. Their assault begins at in-game twilight and should last well into the night. The town’s lit up like a Christmas tree and the league wants us to put on a big firefight for the viewers.”
“So when WonderSoft rolls all over us, it’ll look like a victory parade,” cuts in RiotGuurl. “Worth showing, huh?”
“That’s the thinking,” answers RangerSix.
“That sucks,” she says.
RangerSix doesn’t respond. But his silence seems like some kind of agreement.
“So here’s the plan,” continues RangerSix. “WonderSoft will prep with arty and then come down hard on the only road out of the highlands and into the port. RiotGuurl, you’re on station at Song Hua. There’s an airbase there and I want you on CAP and ready to fly close air support.”
A 3-D map of the city appears on-screen. Three main avenues run north-south down to the harbor. Smaller side streets cut across the dense urban areas. The bridge leading to Song Hua City waits on the far side of the map.
“Our amphibs will be loading and artillery has priority, so we’ll have them loaded by the time I expect to see the first ground units. Armor goes next. Don’t plan on any stand-up fights, ’cause they won’t be there to back you up. Stick and move. It’s an infantry battle, so take lots of body armor and antitank. Finally, Kiwi, since you like explosives so much, I want you to demo the easternmost and westernmost north-south avenues. I suggest bringing down the buildings I’ve highlighted on your map. Hopefully this will channel WonderSoft into our little shooting gallery down the main street. If they want a big game, they might take the bait and try to push on through regardless of resistance. If we can get into some good fighting positions we should slow ’em down in time to get off the beach. In no way, shape, or form can they reach and cross the Song Hua Bridge. That is an immediate victory condition for WonderSoft tonight. No ifs, ands, or buts about that one. That’s it, kids; you have your section briefings and code files. See you in the streets.”
Chapter 19
WonderSoft artillery comes in high, whistling through the twilight overhead, ranging in on the harbor where our heavy armor and artillery are waiting to load back onto the amphibs. Near the outskirts of a Southeast Asian cityscape lit up like a Christmas tree, the rest of us are dug in. I’ve set up around a construction site near the main road leading to the highlands, the direction in which WonderSoft should be coming from with all the armor they’ve got. Every so often Kiwi calls out “Timber!” over BattleChat as a series of shape charges ignite and explode, signaling the demise of another digital building as it crashes down into the streets, blocking the other two large roads that lead down to the harbor.
My grunts are spaced out across the construction site, dug in behind Dumpsters and tractors, with heavy-machine-gun teams covering the most likely WonderSoft avenues of approach. I have a mortar team set up to the rear of a factory about two clicks behind our position. Going over the map for the last time, I believe, or at least it appears to me, that I’m going to meet the tip of WonderSoft’s spear. If they come in motorized columns with tactical air support, as they usually do, then they’ll be coming right through this construction site. Once they get past it, they’ll be in the outlying suburbs, and it’ll be house-to-house fighting for them to get to the harbor. RangerSix has indicated that if I can tie them up here, we’ll make this the focal point of the battle. But first I’ve got to get them to commit to wiping me out.
I’m on top of the half-built building, exposed girders and open framework, surrounded by sandbags and sniper teams.
“Any sign of ’em?” It’s RiotGuurl. I can hear the Albatross’s turbines straining in the background of her mic. She’s high above us, orbiting the battlefield, ready to drop ordnance on target.
“Nothing yet. Any sign of the scouts?” WonderSoft recon should be out in the heavy forest beyond the construction site gathering intel, trying to find the best approach into Song Hua. “I’m surprised they’re not here by now. Nothin’ on IR. So if they’re coming in, might be on foot-running stealth camo.”
“The beach is chaos right now,” reports RiotGuurl. “A few of the first WonderSoft artillery rounds sank one of our transports right alongside the pier, and they had to demo it to get it out of the way. Other than that, most of their shots are going long. Way out into the water. Everybody’s getting mixed up about what to do.”
I switch to night vision and scan the forest road that leads off into the highlands, where WonderSoft will approach from. Nothing.
“Warning.” It’s ShogunSmile over BattleChat. His voice is calm. “Flash, Flash. Flash. They ain’t comin’ in on foot. It’s a full-scale airborne invasion. I’ve got a flight of six, wait . . . now ten, Universe class WonderSoft transports inbound from the coast, coming in from the east.”
“Are you real sure about that, son?” asks RangerSix, immediately overriding the sudden eruption of chatter.
“Fifteen seconds out. Low and slow,” says ShogunSmile. “Any antiair online?”
“All units stand by to shift sectors.” RangerSix’s message comes in marked “Urgent Priority” on my HUD.
“Cargo doors open . . . I’m seein’ the first ’chutes,” says someone over BattleChat.
Moments later, I hear the huge transports thunder across the night dark sky above. The Universe isn’t a VTOL aircraft like the Albatross, so it keeps moving. It’s only used for transporting heavy armor and troops, and in this case, dropping lots of WonderSoft grunts and players all over us.
“We’ve got enemy everywhere,” screams someone across BattleChat.
“Repeat,” says RangerSix tonelessly. “WonderSoft is inside the perimeter. Leave your grunts with orders to defend your sectors and try to clear out the airborne units before the main body arrives. We are still expecting an armored attack from the east.”
A missile arches upward from the paper-lantern-strung streets of Song Hua and cuts a departing Universe in half with a loud explosion. The monster air transport twirls off into another section of the city and explodes with a loud, grinding Craaash.
I order my grunts to hold the perimeter and set off into the narrow streets of Song Hua, looking for enemy paratroopers.
I run into three WonderSoft paratroopers a block away from the construction site. Two are setting up antipersonnel mines along a series of small storefronts, while one constructs a barricade in front of a McBucks Coffee. In the middle of the street, an air-drop crate rests next to an armored ballistic case for a WonderSoft heavy machine gun. Most likely a PRK 46 firing 7.62 ammo. The paratroopers look like ordinary grunts, but the fact that they’ve air-dropped means they’re elite paratroop grunts with better we
apons and enhanced combat AI.
I duck back around the corner of the building and key in a sitrep. As soon as I get the “acknowledged” from Command on my HUD, I head into a narrow wet alley running down the back of the storefronts they’re fortifying.
I find the back door to the storefront they’re in front of and lock-pick it using the Door Cracker minigame. Completing the minigame, I’m rewarded—click—as the door pops open ever so silently. I bring out my assault rifle and push open the door. It’s dark inside. I switch to night vision, activating the target laser on the rifle.
Over ambient I hear a nearby crash. The inside of the building is being cannibalized for barrier materials by the paratroopers. They’ve probably been ordered to fortify and defend inside our perimeter. I proceed through a shadowy stockroom in the back of the building, searching for the front of the store. I’d opted for no silencer in the loadout, instead preferring uranium-depleted armor-piercing rounds because I figured it’d be that kind of out-loud fight. Instead it’s the game of quiet assassination.
Right now, the silencer would have been a better choice.
Outside, I hear the high-pitched turbocharger of an approaching Mule from down the street. Moments later, it races up and skids to a halt right outside the front of the building I’m creeping through. The sounds of work stop, and I hear boots thumping against dry concrete over ambient as the grunts report to whoever’s driving the Mule.
The sound of the boots is closer than I’d expected.
If the Mule had been one of ours, the shooting would’ve already started. It must’ve been air-dropped by WonderSoft.
Over ambient I hear, “Troopers 267 and 268, load that PRK onto my Mule.” In-game orders are being given by a WonderSoft player to grunts.
I sling my weapon and bring out shape charges. Quickly I plant them on the wall nearest the vehicle, guessing at its position. I set the directional dial toward the vehicle and adjust the gain to direct the explosion into a concentrated cone. I up the yield to max and arm it with a fifteen-second fuse. The counter clicks over to fourteen and I run to the rear of the store, unslinging my rifle and crouching low.
Flash! erupts brightly in my HUD, indicating I’ve got a priority message from Command. “All available personnel rally on the television tower. WonderSoft has a spotter team on top and they’re directing fire down on our units located at the harbor. We just lost a landing craft with three tanks on board!”
The fuse counter in my HUD hits nine.
“RangerSix, we cannot penetrate the lobby to the tower at this time.” It’s Kiwi. “There’re three enemy heavy-machine-gun teams and loads of paratroopers defending the first- and second-floor lobbies.” I hear the rattle of automatic gunfire in the background of Kiwi’s link, then an explosion and shattering glass. “They’re lobbing grenades at us from the roof,” continues Kiwi. I hear more explosions, then a steady stream of automatic heavy gunfire stepping all over the last of Kiwi’s transmission.
The fuse counter in my HUD hits 4. I’m hoping the WonderSoft grunts have just loaded the weapons resupply crate. I might catch all of them if they have. I think about the player in the driver’s seat of the Mule. What’s his first move going to be after the explosion?
Over BattleChat I hear, “I can’t hit the tower. They’ve got two AA teams with Scorpions on the roof.” In the background, the high-pitched torment of RiotGuurl’s engines strain to dodge out of the way of an incoming missile, as her AA alarm screams urgently.
The fuse counter hits 1.
The explosion rips open the wall, sending simulated concrete and debris out into the street.
Immediately, I get three grunt kills in my HUD as tiny dollar symbols fall into my bounty account. I open up, full auto, with armor-piercing rounds, unloading an entire clip through the smoking hole. I get another grunt kill, maybe the Mule gunner or another paratrooper I hadn’t spotted. I lob a grenade out into the street, slap another magazine into my rifle, and advance through the smoking hole in the wall.
At that moment, the Hauser minigun in the Mule’s turret spools to life. To my right, the building begins to disintegrate as three thousand miniballs per second erupt from its spinning snub-nosed matte-gray triangular barrels. I run through the hole, unloading my rifle at where I hope the gunner is.
It’s a race.
There’s no skill in it.
With four rounds left, I switch to semiauto and target the gunner who’s bringing the short twin barrels of the Hauser to bear on me, as a shimmering wave of miniball ammo reduces the wall of the building on my right to Swiss cheese. Closing in on me.
I aim on the fly and tag the gunner with three rounds that leave smoking holes in his avatar’s chest. The last one has to count so I put it in his head.
CaptainCarnage lies slumped in the Mule’s turret.
IN-GAME Player Kill! flashes across my screen.
In the corner of my HUD I see the network feed symbol go live, as somewhere a director is cutting together the footage for a highlight reel.
CaptainCarnage’s dog tags appear on my combat knife.
“JollyBoy to RiotGuurl,” I hear over BattleChat. “If you’re up for a bit of harebrained madness, I’ve got a plan to get to the top of the tower and take out those cursed Scorpions.”
I check the buildings along the street and remember the antipersonnel mines. If they’d armed them, I’d be dead now. But they hadn’t.
“I’m in, JollyBoy; whatcha got planned?” says RiotGuurl.
“Oh, something wacky, something blue. Something only I know how to do. Meet me at this loc for pick up ASAP.”
“Roger that, there in thirty seconds.”
I don’t trust JollyBoy. If anyone’s a double agent working for Faustus Mercator, then it’s him. If he takes out our best pilot this early in the game, then it’s game over.
“Feed me that loc, Jolly,” I say over BattleChat. “I want in too.”
“PerfectQuestioney, I just knew you were insane.”
“Takes one to know one, Jolly.”
“So true, PerfectQuestion, so very true.”
The coordinates appear on my HUD. I pull the dead grunt out of the driver’s seat and hope the Mule will start after the explosion and all the bullets I hit it with. When it does, smoking and rattling at 36 percent integrity, I aim it toward JollyBoy’s pickup.
The location is a small park near a simulated business complex. RiotGuurl’s Albatross is already hovering over the waving manicured grass and bending willowy trees, loading ramp down. I drive the Mule up to the ramp, grab the machine-gun case from the vehicle’s inventory slot and put it in the Albatross’s inventory.
“All aboard the death choo choo,” croons JollyBoy’s slender, black beret–wearing avatar. A couple of micro Uzis dangle from straps around either shoulder. His face is camoed in black and white greasepaint like an operatic clown I’d once seen in a commercial for pasta or something.
“Let’s go make ourselves some madness, RiotGuurl.”
JollyBoy is calling the shots now. I’m just along for the ride. I hope I haven’t made a mistake. If he’s the traitor, he’ll get two player kills instead of one.
Then there’s another voice inside my head that’s hoping he hasn’t really betrayed us.
The Albatross picks up speed, but we aren’t gaining altitude. We’re flying nap-of-the-earth just over the tops of the buildings, dodging digital satellite dishes and sudden jutting apartment complexes.
“What’s the plan?” I ask.
JollyBoy’s avatar appears from the shadows of the cargo bay. Red emergency lights make him seem sinister and even more insane. If that’s possible.
“No plan, PerfectQuestioney. Just show up.” He pulls out his trademark neon green, dual-long-barrel .45s, complete with obnoxiously long silencers, and waves them in circles near his head. “Wave our guns around,” he says with a grin exaggerated by greasepaint. “Y’know, show ’em we really mean business.”
I was expecting mor
e. Or at least something.
The engines whine dangerously close to maximum as the Albatross heels over into a tight turn. I check the cockpit and watch as RiotGuurl flies us straight down the paper-lantern-lit main street of Song Hua Harbor. In the distance I see a space-age television station, a glass spire, rising up above the city. I think it’s based on some famous building from the Bangkok BioMass.
“It’s really brilliant and rather simple! You see, PerfectQuestioney, we’re gonna fly straight up the side of that thing and when chickie-poo up there says ‘jump,’ well, we jump. Hopefully just seconds, maybe even just a smidge of a second really, after we jump out, we land on the roof and start, you know . . . shooting everyone up there.”
One of his pistols clicks and a flag with the word Bang! pops out from the barrel.
Humor.
“Fun, huh?” His perma-grinning avatar raises his eyebrows at me knowingly.
“Lobby in sight,” says RiotGuurl over BattleChat. “Hang on! Going vertical in five, four, three . . .”
Even RiotGuurl sounds stressed. This plan is insane. But there’s no getting through the lobby on the ground floor, that’s for sure. If Kiwi and all his explosives can’t manage that, I doubt the rest of us are going to do any better. Ahead of us, out the cockpit window, the TV tower races toward us at breakneck speed. Hundreds of ColaCorp bodies litter the entrance as WonderSoft machine guns rake the surrounding buildings. Bright green tracer rounds zip past the Albatross’s cockpit as our opponents train their cross fire on us. One head shot on RiotGuurl through the canopy and that’s the end of this little trip. On a positive note, we might take out the lobby defenses in what I can only imagine will be a spectacular highlight reel crash for the postgame show.
Suddenly we’re vertical, and the Albatross’s engines kick in hard. Already RiotGuurl is punching the afterburners in short bursts, causing the gunship to emit a series of soft bump bumps above the roar of the engines.
“What’re you going to do about the AA once you drop us?” I scream at RiotGuurl over the noise of the straining engines.