by Tripp Ellis
Enemy mechs began filtering into the narrow passageway. They were easier targets in the confined space. They pushed deeper into the alley, but the proximity mines Zack had left behind didn't detonate.
Zack's face twisted up confused. “They must have figured out our IFF signal.”
“Impossible," Diesel said. "It's encrypted."
“Then they broke the encryption."
A rocket launched down the alleyway, screeching toward them. Zack dodged and crouched behind a dumpster. The missile slammed into the wall near Cosmo, leaving a gaping hole in the brick. Dust and debris sprayed out.
More enemy mechs were pouring into the passageway. Zack and the others continued to pummel them with plasma bolts and rockets, but they weren't going to be able to hold the Tarvaax off forever.
Cosmo plowed through the hole in the wall, demolishing the structure as he went. He ripped through the first and second floors, carving a path with the Maverick’s massive fists. They were like wrecking balls. He barreled through the building, screaming like a crazed maniac. He used his plasma cannons to help clear the way, blasting a flurry of superheated energy bolts.
It was an old office. There were desks and cubicles. Debris fell from the second story down to the first. Data banks, chairs, computers. Looseleaf paper twirled in the air amid the chaos.
Major Malone, Diesel, and Zack followed behind him, escaping the attacking Tarvaax. Halfway through the building, Zack stopped.
"What are you doing, Ice Pick?" Diesel asked.
"Leaving behind a little present." He activated a switch and opened a storage compartment on the torso of the Maverick. With his articulated arm, he grabbed a neutrontium grenade and left it on a desk.
Cosmo continued his way through the structure, bulldozing through another wall that led to 6th Avenue. The squad darted into the street and ran up the sidewalk toward Commerce Street.
As they turned the corner, enemy mechs were spilling onto the street after them. Zack remotely detonated the neutrontium grenade. The first three floors of the building exploded, showering shards of glass and debris. The enemy mechs shredded to pieces.
The blast shook the ground so violently, and the overpressure was so great, Zack and the squad couldn't maintain their footing. The Maverick’s gyro-stabilizers made the vehicles almost impossible to topple, but they couldn’t compensate for the force of the explosion. The Mavericks crashed to the ground.
Every window in a three block radius had been shattered. A moment later, the entire building collapsed upon itself. It looked like a controlled demolition. The building disintegrated in a plume of smoke, burying the remains of the Tarvaax in the rubble.
“Keep moving," Major Malone said as she stood up. The squad climbed to their mechanical feet and clamored away.
“How are we doing on ammo?" Malone asked.
“I’ve got a handful of rockets left, and half my ammo is gone,” Zack said.
"I'm in the same boat," Cosmo said.
“You've got more than me," Diesel said.
Zack led the way, racing his Maverick through the tattered city. He took cover in the lobby of the Utonia Hyton—a once posh, luxury hotel. He smashed his way through the revolving glass doors into the spacious atrium. It was one of the few interior structures big enough to accommodate the size of the Mavericks. The central courtyard vaulted up 47 stories. Skylights at the top cascaded sunlight down to the lobby. The hotel rooms circled the open courtyard providing each with a stunning exterior view of the city.
The lobby was lavishly appointed. There was a pond, and a small man-made waterfall that had long since stopped operating. When it was functional, it created a soothing environment. Fake trees and holographic birds helped to simulate a natural environment, promoting a calm and relaxing vibe, when it was operational.
The hotel had sustained relatively little damage during the initial invasion.
“This is nice, Ice Pick," Cosmo said. "Are we on vacation now?"
"If we go up high enough, we should have an unobstructed view of the shield generator. It would be good to know exactly what we're getting into, don't you think?"
"If we get through this, I'm going to put you in for a commendation," Malone said. "Lance Corporal Salvator uses his brain. The rest of you should try it sometime." The major marched her Maverick to the elevator bay. The others followed. The alcove concealed the vehicles from the street view.
Malone opened her cockpit and climbed out of the vehicle. Her boots slapped against the marble floor as she landed.
"I don't think the elevators are going to work, Major,” Cosmo said in a dry, sarcastic voice.
"We're taking the stairs, numb-nuts."
The rest of the squad climbed out of their vehicles and followed Malone into the stairwell. They marched up 35 flights, then filed into a corridor. Zack’s quads were burning, and his chest was heaving for breath. Major Malone hadn't even broken a sweat.
Cosmo looked like he was about to collapse. "I hate stairs," he muttered to himself, breathless.
The hallway was open to the courtyard. Cosmo moved to the railing and peered over the edge, looking down to the lobby below. It was a long way to the ground. He honked a big glob of spit over the railing. The gluey blob of saliva plummeted down and smacked against the marble floor several seconds later. The sound echoed throughout the courtyard.
Diesel shoved him forward, playfully. Just enough to make him freak out. He snapped back away from the ledge. "His face twisted up with a mix of both anger and fear. "Hey, that's not funny."
“What's the matter? You're not afraid of heights, are you?" Diesel said, baby talking him.
"No. I'm not afraid of heights. I'm afraid of slamming into the ground at 120 miles an hour."
"You ought to try it sometime. Might be an improvement on that face of yours."
Cosmo sneered at her.
Diesel followed Malone down the hallway, and Cosmo followed after.
Malone slung her M7 into the firing position and blasted the locking mechanism of Suite 3515. The plasma bolt burned a hole in the door, and she kicked it open.
The platoon filed into the luxurious suite. There were two pristine queen size beds with large fluffy pillows. Cosmo flopped on the bed and relaxed. He looked like he was in heaven. A euphoric grin curled up on his face. "Now this is what I'm talking about."
There was a large flat-panel display, an office area, chairs, a couch, a coffee table—all the appointments of a junior suite.
Malone marched to the sliding glass door, stepped onto the terrace, and scanned the horizon. Zack followed after her.
Cosmo pulled himself off the bed and raided the minibar. There was no power in the room, so everything in the small refrigerator was lukewarm. But that didn't stop him from stuffing his cargo pockets with the miniature bottles of liquor. "Anybody want anything? There's soda, water, juice?"
"I'll take a bottle of water," Diesel said.
He tossed it to her. She twisted off the lid and guzzled half the bottle down in one slug. Cosmo popped open a soda. It fizzed and dripped down the side of the can and onto the carpet. He slurped the foam from the lid of the can. It was an obnoxious sound, and Malone gave him the evil eye.
"You want anything, Major? Ginger ale, perhaps. You look like the ginger ale type." Cosmo seemed to enjoy pushing his luck.
Malone glared at him. "Corporal, I would hate for my weapon to accidentally discharge and shoot you."
"So, definitely not the ginger ale type."
Malone shook her head in frustration.
"There," Zack pointed. "That's got to be the generator."
Malone pulled the visor of her helmet down, gaining access to her HUD. The high resolution cameras embedded in her helmet gave her the ability to zoom in on the structure. The generator was lightly guarded, but it was near the main base of operations for the Tarvaax. Getting in and out of there was going to be difficult.
"How exactly are we gonna take this thing down?" Cosmo asked. "There
's a division of troops in the area."
"We need to create a diversion. Then a second squad will have to infiltrate and destroy the generator." Malone pondered the situation. She continued to scan the surrounding area. Her eyes fell upon a charging station used for cars and commercial vehicles.
Depending on usage, fuel-cells could last up to a month before needing a charge. It took only five minutes to recharge the average fuel-cell. If the station’s charge banks were still operational, they contained an enormous amount of energy. Highly volatile energy. A well-placed rocket could generate a detonation the rough equivalent of a 1 kiloton nuclear warhead. It would certainly be enough to garner the attention of the enemy forces. Unfortunately, the blast radius wouldn't be enough to affect the shield generator. The station was too far away.
"Cosmo and I will create a diversion. You and Diesel will detonate the generator." Malone said. "One of you will need to take an overwatch position, while the other places the charge. A neutrontium grenade should do the trick."
The squad filtered out of the hotel room. Zack could hear commotion in the lobby, echoing its way up through the atrium. He crouched down and edged his way to the railing. He carefully peered over the side and saw an enemy mech in the lobby below. It was surrounded by several infantry soldiers. They had discovered the Mavericks that had been parked in the enclave near the elevator bank.
Malone’s face tensed.
"What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Cosmo grumbled quietly.
"They're going to search the entire building," Diesel said.
"At least that will take some time," Zack said.
There were guards posted at the entrances and exits. As they spoke, patrols were making their way into the stairwells and searching room to room.
"Back into the room. Now!" Malone commanded.
The squad scampered back into the suite. Malone closed the door behind her as she entered the room. It wasn't going to keep anybody out and the damaged door would definitely draw attention to the suite.
"We can't just sit in here and wait for them to find us," Cosmo said.
"We're not going to sit in here." Malone opened the sliding glass doors and stepped onto the balcony. She peered over the railing, looking down at the street below. It was a long, long way down. There was a mild breeze, that whipped up into an occasional gust from time to time. She tugged on the railing to gauge its steadiness. It didn't budge. Wrought iron bars were anchored into the floor.
Cosmo watched her with wide eyes. He knew exactly what she had in mind, and by the look on his face, he didn't like it one bit. "You're not serious, are you?"
50
Major Malone surveyed the construction of the balcony. Each one was a freestanding unit that jutted out from the side of the building. She looked up at the balcony above her. There was an overhang with a narrow lip. It wasn't much, just barely enough to grip. She jumped up and grabbed onto it, hanging there for a moment. The lip was narrow, maybe 2 to 3 inches long. She seemed satisfied and dropped back down.
Malone swung her leg over the railing, straddling it. She gripped the railing tightly and hoisted her other leg over. One slight mistake would ensure doom. She climbed down the iron bars until her hands were clinging onto the floor. She reached under the overhang and wedged her fingers atop the lip. Then she swung herself toward the lower balcony and dropped down to safety. She moved with the agility of a monkey swinging through a rain forest. She leaned over the edge of the railing and looked at the squad above her. "Piece of cake. What are you waiting for?"
Cosmo swallowed hard as he glanced at the street below.
Malone descended another level, getting into a groove.
Zack followed after her, mirroring her every move. His heart was pounding. He had never been particularly afraid of heights. But the thought of becoming intimately acquainted with the sidewalk wasn't appealing. For the first time since boot camp, he was thankful for all the pull-ups he had been required to do. It was making the maneuver easier. Within moments, he swung to safety on the balcony below. One down, 34 more to go. He was careful to maintain focus on each and every maneuver. A momentary loss of concentration would be catastrophic.
He proceeded down the side of the building, descending from balcony to balcony in the same manner, but the textured concrete was wearing away at the tips of his fingers. It was a small price to pay if he made it down safely.
Diesel followed after him, and she took to it like a fish to water. There wasn't anything you could throw at Diesel that she couldn't handle.
Cosmo, on the other hand, was still on the first balcony. He was contemplating taking his chances against the Tarvaax. A plasma bolt seemed like a better way to die than breaking every bone in your body against the pavement. He backed away from the railing, moved through the suite, and spilled into the hallway.
It didn't take long for Zack's hands to ache. His biceps and lats burned. He was going to be sore as hell tomorrow, if he lived that long. By the time he reached the ground he barely had sensation left in his hands. His fingers felt like they were going to fall off. But he had never been more thankful to be on solid ground.
Malone glanced up the side of the building. Cosmo was nowhere in sight. "Where is that weasel?"
Diesel shrugged. “I guess Cosmo decided to use the stairs."
Malone grimaced. "He's on his own. Get to the generator. I'll take care of the charging station myself. Good luck."
"You too, Major." Zack said.
Malone dashed across the street and disappeared into an alleyway.
Zack and Diesel headed north on Colfax Avenue. They weaved their way through the war-torn streets, avoiding Tarvaax patrols. They held up at a warehouse on Paper Street. It was damp and dingy, and lined with old rusty equipment. The windows were glazed and shattered, letting a minimum amount of light in. Invoices littered the floor—some of them were more than 30 years old. They found a stairwell that led up to the roof. It offered a clear view of the shield generator a block away. It was an ideal location for Diesel to take an overwatch position. With her M7, she could snipe at targets and provide some cover for Zack as he attempted to infiltrate the structure.
"Are you sure you don't want to take overwatch?" Diesel said.
Zack grinned. “I joined the Marine Corps so I could blow stuff up. I'm not going to miss out on this opportunity."
"How are you going to detonate the generator?"
"An overheated weapon should be enough.” Zack had a concerned look on his face. "Hopefully that allows me enough time to get a safe distance away." Zack had a sobering realization. "If Major Malone is using her weapon to detonate the charging station, she won't be able to clear the blast radius."
Diesel’s face looked grim. "She knew it was a suicide mission.”
"Let's hope blowing up the shield generator isn’t a suicide mission either."
The two exchanged a somber glance. They both knew the odds of pulling this off and making it out alive were slim.
"Good luck,” Diesel said. "Come back in one piece."
"I intend to." Zack left her on the rooftop, climbed down the staircase, and made his way toward the generator. Security at the tactical operations center was lax. With an active force-shield, there was no need for the Tarvaax to be hyper-vigilant about security.
Zack hid behind a row of supply crates and surveyed the compound. The shield generator was next to the landing area. A few guards were positioned out front. Several Tarvaax dropships were perched on the tarmac. Crews were loading them with ordnance from the ammo dump—rockets, charged plasma projectiles, and tactical nukes. There was no telling what other type of weaponry was stored in the ammo dump. Detonating the shield generator might make a bigger explosion than anticipated.
A massive column of energy beamed into the sky from the generator. It almost looked like a giant cannon. The beam terminated in a relay point high above the city which then encased the area in the domed shield. Zack didn't really know the mechanics of how it
all worked, or how many relay points there were. But he knew detonating a plasma rifle would create a secondary explosion that would be more than enough to disable the entire facility.
Not far away, there were rows and rows of empty mechanized vehicles, just waiting for action. Zack crouched behind the crates and waited for Malone to work her magic. He waited and waited for the explosion, but it never came. Instead, he heard the whirr of hydraulics and servos, and the clomp of heavy metal feet. He knew exactly what it was.
He craned his neck to see the barrel of a giant plasma weapon staring him in the face. The weapon was attached to a Tarvaax mech unit. A soldier was leaning out of the cockpit, barking commands at him in the indecipherable language of the Tarvaax. Probably saying something along the lines of, “Drop your weapon. Get facedown on the ground."
51
The Tarvaax soldier was adamant about Zack complying with his orders. He didn't look too happy. Zack slowly set his rifle on the concrete, then raised his hands and put them behind his head.
The Tarvaax warrior drew his sidearm and climbed out of his mech. He said something else, but Zack didn’t comply.
The soldier got perturbed at Zack's inability to comprehend the language. So he did what everyone does when speaking to someone who doesn't understand their native language—he spoke slower and louder.
Zack still didn't understand. Or, at least, he pretended not to understand. The recruits had learned basic phrases in boot camp. But by this time, it didn't matter. A massive explosion quaked the ground beneath his feet. The force of the blast almost knocked the soldier off balance. Momentarily distracted, he glanced at the blooming mushroom cloud on the horizon. It was just enough of a distraction for Zack to grab his rifle from the ground and fire a single shot into the soldier’s abdomen. Malone must have hit the charge station.
The Tarvaax warrior’s guts erupted in a viscous stream of goo. The plasma bolt had left a serious hole in the soldier’s stomach. He collapsed to the ground amidst the slime, his body still twitching.