by Jim Roberts
The lights above them started to flicker on and off. Even though it was morning outside, the fortress relied on artificial light for its operation. Danny must be wreaking havoc with that gun down below, thought Joe, firing another steady burst from his AK.
The feeding mechanism soon clicked dry on an empty magazine. Joe shouted out loudly, "Changing!" Krieger took the initiative and unleashed a massive burst of fire from the SAW. Joe ejected the spent magazine and speedily flipped it around to the alternate magazine taped to the side. He slapped the magazine in place, yanked back on the charging handle and continued firing.
"Changing!" shouted Krieger, who did the same with his SAW. The large gun took a few extra seconds to load due to its size and bulkiness. Krieger handled the weapon as if it were the easiest thing in the world. As the Russian reloaded, Joe's own clip ran dry. He ejected the spent dual cartridge and prepared a fresh taped magazine.
They were doing well, but needed to move soon; else they'd be bogged down and eventually overwhelmed. Krieger made the first move, "Alright American hero, follow me!" The Russian continued to underarm the SAW, firing it for all it was worth. His face drew back in a wide grin, his eyes furrowed as he spread massive firepower at his enemies. Joe hoped he had made the right choice letting this guy out of his cell. For all he knew, he probably belonged in there. Krieger looked back for a quick second to make sure Joe was following, "You coming?"
Joe shouted, "You're crazy!"
Krieger laughed, "Crazy? I am certifiable my friend!" He continued to blaze away with the massive gun. Joe saw the Russian tag two more approaching Olympus Centurions, the massive gun tearing through the trooper's helmets like tin foil. Joe followed after the massive Russian-Arab, leaving the safe cover of the iron door. Running as fast as he could down the hall, he reached the next available shelter: a protruding piece of concrete large enough for him to place his body.
The Centurions had taken the brunt of the attack, losing at least eight men by now. Joe and his mercenary friend were doing unbelievably well, so far. Just let that luck hold up for a few more minutes. He guessed he was about fifty feet from the cells holding his men.
He was so close.
Another massive explosion under their feet almost sent Joe reeling into the wall in front of him. He clicked the Bluetooth headset and spoke quickly, "Danny do you read me? Come in!"
A Centurion popped his head out from cover ahead for a brief second; long enough for Joe to tag him clean through his helmet visor. The trooper dropped to the ground like an overturned trash can. After another few seconds of dead silence over the comm, Danny's voice finally came through loud and clear.
"Go Sarge!"
"What the hell are you guys doing down there?"
"Just cleaning house." Another explosion rattled the ground.
Joe was exasperated, "I need you guys up here right now! Whatever the hell it is you're doing, wrap it up!"
"Stand by Joe. I've got problems of my own right now."
"Danny what are you up to?"
The comm was quiet.
What on earth was that Canadian doing?
"...I've got problems of my own right now," said Whisper as he marched out of the lab and fired one final shot from the Gauss rifle. A brilliant bolt of electromagnetic fire flared through the air leaving a coil-like trail of smoke. The projectile flew towards his expected target: a small squad of Olympus Centurions ducking behind a collection of crates and barrels collected to the side of the corridor beyond the lab.
Whisper watched in fascination as the charged bolt of energy hit the crates and splintered apart, tearing through the material (and the men) in a spectacular force of power. The troopers were thrown away from their cover like ragdolls, landing in contorted heaps on the ground.
Nice.
The hallway leading away from the lab Whisper and Doctor Yune had escaped from was a spectacular mess. Littered around the destroyed doorway to Dr. Yune's lab were the bodies of some twenty Centurions, blown apart from the powerful force of the Gauss rifle. Several more troopers had attempted to rush their location, but had been summarily torched by the coilgun.
The corridor was unbelievably huge. It was actually more like a cavern; a hollowed out mountainous interior with metal flooring and doors here and there going to different supply areas. The hallway was modestly lit, with fluorescent lights strung along the rocky walls. It stretched on for several hundreds of feet, though it probably went further, as the corridor made a sharp curve some two hundred feet in.
The suit was handling beautifully. Danny had never in his life felt so powerful. He had to tell himself not to get too taken away by it. You may be Whisper now, but your heart is still the same. Don't let your friends down. He looked around at the devastation, his eyeless helmet surveying the carnage. He had to admit the choice of name was a bit ironic. He'd made enough noise to wake the dead.
Doctor Yune followed closely behind Whisper, using the suit as cover.
"How do you feel Mr. Callbeck?" asked Yune apprehensively.
The emotionless helmet half turned, "Fine Doctor," the voice box rasped it's reply, translating Danny's voice into an odd robotic tone, "But you can call me Whisper. I think it suits this getup a bit better, don't you think?"
Yune seemed to muse over that for a moment, "Alright Dan...Whisper, sorry. Let's get out of here."
Whisper nodded, "Ok Doctor, show me the way."
"Just head straight through the corridor, around the curve. We will come to a freight elevator. Take it up and we will be near the motorcade."
The circular corridor almost felt like it was surrounding something; like the passageway was wrapping itself around a center location the two companions couldn't see. As they jogged through the hallway, Whisper looked over at Yune, "Doctor, just how big is this place?"
Yune pushed his glasses up, "The mountain was hollowed out during the Russian-Afghan war in the Eighties as far as I know. It was going to be used by the Russians as some sort of staging ground. After the fall of the Soviet Union, it fell into disrepair." The Doctor was keeping up with Whisper well, but he wasn't in as perfect shape as the power suit wearing soldier. Whisper slowed slightly.
As they ran, along the side of the corridor were large collections of what appeared to be drones similar to the one they had seen back in the village in Afghanistan.
"Doctor, what are those things?"
Yune spoke quickly as they jogged, "Surveillance drones I designed for data and cryptology analysis."
Whisper was about to ask more when something alerted the sensors in his Heads-Up-Display.
"Stop right now!"
Yune did as he was told, moving to stand behind Whisper. The corridor was beginning to lose electricity; several of the passageway lights began flickering on and off. The shooting must have damaged a circuit somewhere, thought Whisper as he scanned the area ahead of him. The mountain interior had been sprayed with some sort of solidifying agent, giving the walls of the under complex a slightly shiny look. This base was certainly a marvel of engineering.
With a base as advanced as this, why keep us imprisoned upstairs in such a shitty old fortress?
The thought nagged at him as he searched the corridor. Not entirely satisfied, he turned to Dr. Yune. "I guess it's nothing Doc. Let's keep mov..."
Almost too late, Whisper heard the sound of a flying projectile heading straight for him. The suit allowed him to pivot out of the way as the flying weapon spun past him and embedded itself in the metal floor. Whisper could see that it resembled a ninja shuriken, or 'throwing star'.
What the hell?
More stars split the air, twirling at him with near unerring efficiency. The suit's advanced reflexes gave Whisper far superior reflexes, but two found their mark anyway, embedding in the Rynohyde weave in his left arm and lower leg. The one in his leg didn't hurt, but the shuriken in his arm had somehow cut through the bulletproof Kevlar mesh and had stuck painfully in his flesh. His suit's sensors registered an injury.
The HUD showed him the suit was beginning to commit resources to the damaged area to negate pain and enhance muscle efficiency.
"Doctor, get behind there..." said Whisper, pointing to a large mass of technical equipment scattered against the wall. Yune did as he wall told, diving to the machinery as several shurikens struck the floor around him.
After taking a quick second to yank out the shurikens, Whisper hefted the gauss rifle; aiming around wildly at his invisible foe, "What the hell is this, Doctor?"
Yune yelled out from behind the small cargo loader he had chosen to hide behind, "It's the Praetorian!"
"What?"
"The Praetorian guard! Olympus's elite cyber enhanced soldiers!"
Whisper had an idea what that meant, and he didn't care to find out. He hefted the gauss rifle and began firing rapidly at the general direction of the shurikens.
Yune called out, trying to warn his companion, "Danny they can't be hit by guns, they're too fast!"
"Why can't I see them?" asked Whisper, ceasing fire.
"You will in a moment; they're using optical camo, similar to what your suit is capable of, but more...refined. They will try to rush you."
Whisper dropped the rifle on the ground beside him. He used the HUD to call up Joe on the comm
Joe's voice answered, the crack of gunfire resounding in the background, "This is Joe, where are you Danny? We need backup a-sap!"
"Joe, I've got a problem here. You're going to have to get the men out yourself. I'll join you as soon as I can. I am sending Doctor Yune up through the freight elevator. Make sure to meet him there." He switched off the comm before Joe could respond. It was then the so-called Praetorian soldiers decided to show themselves. Five very odd looking figures materialized in front of Whisper, running fast towards him. They were clad head to toe in a high-tech looking battle armor that seemed to shimmer as they ran; their faces were covered with bizarre-shaped helmets resembling−if Whisper had to guess−a coyote. They ran in perfect unison, each seeming to react to the others' moves in turn.
Time to see what this suit can really do.
He reached for the extendable Bo-staff on his leg, withdrew it and thumbed it on. The one foot stick of smart-steel alloy drew two-and-a-half additional feet at each end, transforming it into a potent weapon. Whisper flourished the staff, preparing to meet his enemies head on. He knew he was facing elite soldiers, just by their speed and gait.
This would be it. This would be his test to see if this suit and his skill would measure up.
The Praetorians, in perfect unison, withdrew wickedly sharp katana blades from sheathes on their backs.
Spirits of my fathers!
The prayer flowed through his mind, focusing his warrior reflexes in preparation for combat.
"Yune, get up and get to the elevator. Joe's waiting for you. I'll take care of these fools!"
Yune didn't ask questions, instead running with all his might towards the end of the corridor and the elevator that lay beyond. The Praetorians paid no heed to the Doctor; their prize was the cybersuited soldier dead ahead. Danny judged that they had little use in Yune anymore, now that the suit was activated. He was the new catch of the day. When the Praetorians were ten feet from him, they each broke apart to engage Whisper at a different interval. The one to the left leapt into the air like a Russian jig dancer, pirouetting mid flight to head straight for Whisper's chest. The other four held back a brief second, as if to see what their friend had planned. Whisper dodged the attack, spinning to the side with more finesse than he would have thought possible in the Whisper suit. As he landed, the trooper spun around immediately, trying to remove Whisper's head with the razor sharp katana. Whisper met the attack with the Bo-staff, deflecting the sword in a shower of sparking metal.
Nice try.
He spun the Mantis Staff in a wide arc and managed to connect with the trooper's helmet. The blow knocked the soldier off his feet, pitching him to the ground. Before the trooper had a chance to right himself, Whisper curb stomped the Praetorian with his armored foot. A soggy crunch resounding from the helmet informed Whisper he had permanently dealt with his enemy.
While he had tussled with the first elite trooper, the other four had closed the space between them and were moving quickly to skewer Whisper with their katana blades. He met them in a barrage of flourishes - parrying each weapon thrust in turn. The dance of death continued for several seconds, as the four coyote-headed soldiers trying to outmaneuver the power armor wearing Canadian. As Whisper fought, he could tell his suit was more advanced than theirs; it was the four on one odds that were making the difference. He had to even those playing field.
Whisper deflected a blow from the nearest trooper - moving the bo-staff to his left hand - and lashing out with his right. He caught the elite soldier by the wrist. With all his might, Whisper used the suit's strength enhancers to pull the guardsman off balance and fling him across the corridor. The Praetorian sailed through the air like a shot-put. The Olympus soldier hit the wall with a bone shattering smash and fell to the ground without a twitch.
A third Praetorian guardsman decided to press his advantage and charged Whisper - katana held high to cut his enemy in two. Whisper bolted forwards with renewed vim and launched himself up into a flying jump kick. The suit took care of the rest. He connected with the Praetorian's head with such force, an audible snap reverberated from its neck and he spun unnaturally forward, ass over teakettle before falling to the ground in a busted heap. Three down, two to go.
Whisper's brief feeling of triumph lasted all but a brief second. In the negligible amount of time his back was turned, the fourth trooper had rushed forward with his katana and stabbed through the unshielded part of Whisper's leg.
The Canadian concealed a cry of pain; instead focusing his rage on the shear punishment of the trooper who had somehow managed to hurt him. Danny grabbed the guardsman by the throat and lifted him off his feet. The Whisper suit surged with energy, increasing his strength for what he planned. As he lifted the man up, Whisper turned the soldier upside down and with all his might, drove the Praetorian's head into the metal floor.
The force was so powerful, the Praetorian's head smashed apart in a shower of sparks, brains and blood.
The last trooper witnessed the grisly demise of his friend and seemed to rethink the logic of attacking such a powerful foe. Whisper looked down at the blood-dripping blade protruding from his leg. Amazingly, it hardly hurt. The suit HUD displayed a reading showing resources being distributed through the inner layer of the suit to the wounded area, increasing his pain tolerance. While the last Praetorian seemed be rethinking his plan, Whisper gripped the blade of the sword. With a sharp push, he pulled it back out. The demonstration seemed to help make up the Praetorian's mind. He twisted around and began running in the opposite direction. Whisper smiled inside the suit. He hauled back the sword and threw it with all his might. It spun end over end before burying itself through the Praetorian trooper's brainpan. The Olympus guardsman staggered for a brief moment, and then crumpled to the ground, dead as Dillinger.
Whisper was barely breathing hard. His leg stung from the sword wound, but the suit was doing an admirable job delegating resources to the traumatized area to mitigate the pain. Whisper retrieved the gauss rifle and jogged towards the freight elevator. By now, Yune should be upstairs. All Whisper had to do was follow him up and they'd be well rid of this godforsaken place.
That is if Joe managed to hold things together upstairs.
Chapter 11
Two Against One
The firefight in the cell raged white hot. Joe fired his AK with furious abandon, trying to suppress the remaining Olympus Centurions surging towards his and Krieger's position. They hadn't made any progress towards the Ranger cells; in fact they were being steadily pushed back towards their cells.
Krieger looked to Joe, slapping a fresh magazine into the underside of the SAW, "They are like cockroaches, yeah?"
"We need to even the odds!"
"No problem friend! You have LAWs rocket or something in your back pocket?"
Cute. Joe looked around the bullet-hole covered corridor for something, anything they could use.
He saw it.
A red fire extinguisher hanging on the opposite wall, about ten feet in front of Krieger.
"Cover me," yelled Joe, pushing away from his cover into a low hustle towards the hanging fire extinguisher.
Krieger fired the SAW for all it was worth. Another Centurion buckled under the onslaught of bullets, his armor failing to stand up to the high-powered machine gun rounds.
Joe's mad dash brought him almost into the direct line of fire from the Centurions. He felt the hot sensation of flying lead whiz by his head at nine-hundred meters per second. He ducked into cover underneath the fire extinguisher a fraction of a second before a dozen rounds tore up the ground where he had just been. Pausing for a quick breath, he reached up and unhooked the fire extinguisher.
"Krieger, let this get over their heads, then light it up!"
"Dah, my friend!"
Joe hauled back and threw the fire extinguisher with all his might towards the remaining Centurions. A bullet clipped by Joe's ear, tearing a tiny chuck of skin from the lobe. He pulled back abruptly, pain flashing through his head.
The fire extinguisher sailed through the air. Krieger pulled the SAW up to his eye line and roared, "Dostvodanya!"
The SAW spit fire.
The bullets found their mark and the fire extinguisher exploded in a shower of fragments and compressed air. Joe peaked out from cover just in time to see the explosion rip apart four Centurions, leaving one unlucky asshole standing intact. Joe pulled his .357 and fired three shots. The Centurion's armor shattered to pieces in a rain of ripping material and blood. His corpse dropped to the floor to join his dead comrades.