“Hold.” Tyco answered, ducking low as the rustling approached. He brought the rifle to bear, watching the shaking grass intently.
Something flashed in the sun, catching Tyco’s eye as it scythed through the brush, slicing the yellowed stalks jaggedly in half. Tyco sighed in recognition, released the trigger, and stood slowly. A thin, knowing smile broke across his face.
“Cap - ?” Chip asked on the comm., worried and questioning.
“Relax Chip.” Tyco sighed into the receiver. “It’s just Ringo.”
Right on cue, Ringo emerged into the bright sunlight, still slashing ferociously at the grass in front of him, and stepped out onto the road. “Ghost, too.” He said, and nodded at the silent man behind him. “We met up on the way.” He placed his blade back into its sheath and nodded at the body behind Tyco. “Who’s that?” He asked, more curious than concerned.
“Adamson.” Tyco said, turning away to look up and down the road. It was too much to hope that Chip’s shots had gone unnoticed, but so far there was no sign of the locals.
“Poor fucker.” Ringo said, and headed for the corpse. “What ammo he bring?”
Tyco shook his head. He counted himself as a hardened veteran, but he still found Ringo’s unquestioning selfishness disconcerting. “Didn’t check.” He turned and nodded at Ghost, who was mopping his sweating brow in the dry heat. “Glad to see you.”
“More than you know.” Ghost answered, quietly, glancing towards Ringo. “Is he always like that?”
Tyco chuckled. “You never had the pleasure before?”
Ghost shook his head, still staring at Ringo incredulously.
“Don’t worry.” Tyco said, smiling thinly. “He gets worse.”
“We still on radio silence?” Ringo knelt and rifled through Adamson’s pockets with the calm efficiency of a battlefield looter.
Tyco shrugged. “In theory.”
Ringo rolled his eyes and punched his comm. “Who’s out there? Hog?”
No answer came. Not even a click of acknowledgment. Ringo glanced at Tyco, confused. “Who were you talking to, Cap - ?”
“Let’s play a game….” Chip’s voice was only made more creepy by the static breaking over the comm.
Ringo jumped out of his skin.
“Chip.” Tyco grinned, by way of explanation.
“Creepy motherfucker…”Ringo said, shaking his head.
Tyco grinned even wider. “Your comm’s live.”
“Thaaaanks Sweetheart.” Chip groaned over the radio. His tone, now warm and friendly, was even more disconcerting than before.
Ringo shuddered as he rose, efficiently pocketing the ammunition he’d taken from Adamson’s body and strapping his grenade belt around his chest. He put one hand to his comm, trying to come up with a response. He gave up and shook his head instead.
“Poke didn’t make it either.” Ghost said quietly, nodding towards Adamson as if mentally linking their fates.
“I saw.” Tyco nodded.
Ringo shrugged easily, adjusting the machete strap around his waist to make room for the grenades. “Name like ‘Poke’, what’d you expect?”
Tyco shook his head and tapped in again. “Chip, you coming down or covering us from up there?”
Static sounded briefly, followed closely by a clipped – “I’m good from here, Cap.”
“Thank God.” Ringo sighed.
“Comm.” Tyco tried to hide his grin.
Ringo stared down at his unit, tapping in and out quickly desperately checking to make sure he was clear. He stopped short and stared from Tyco to Ghost, reading the amusement on their faces as he slowly got the joke.
“Fuck you.” He said, angrily at first, but the twitch of his lips betrayed him, and he grinned. “I’ll get you for that.”
Tyco smiled and tipped his helmet as he brushed past. “Let’s move!” He called, tapping in as he stepped quickly across the road and made for the cover on the other side. “Next mark is 10-point-3 clicks Northeast.”
Two quick clicks from Chip answered him, and the radio fell silent again.
Tyco and Ghost set off down the road. Ringo hung back, eyeing the truck.
“Hey, boss,” He asked. “What about the wheels - ?”
A loud crack sounded from the hillside, and something whistled through the air, slamming through the truck’s hood. A split second later, flames emerged from its hood, spreading quickly over the mud-caked canvas cover.
Ringo stared up at the hillside, disbelieving. “Oh, come on - !”
Tyco turned back to the truck to see the flames licking around its engine. Ringo stood rooted to the spot, dangerously close to the vehicle. Tyco's face fell as the fire engulfed the truck.
“Ringo - !” He barely raised his voice, but the urgency was clear in his tone.
Ringo whirled towards him, then glanced back at the truck. His face fell immediately, realizing the imminent danger. He let out a strangled roar and dove for the roadside–
Even as the engine exploded behind him, hurling glass and metal high into the sky. Ringo was flung clear into the underbrush, thudding heavily as he landed and skidding sideways through the growth. He rolled to a hard stop in the tall, dry grass.
“Cap.” Chip tapped in. “Can I finish him?”
“Chip!” Tyco sighed, wearily.
“Act of mercy, I swear!“
“Jesus H Christ - !” Ringo groaned from the brush. He crawled to his knees, then raised himself quickly to full height, angrily throwing back his head. “That fucking traitor!”
“Ringo, you ok?” Tyco called quietly as he rushed towards him.
“You better stay up there forever.” Ringo growled into his comm. “’Cause if you come down here, I swear – .“
“That’s it, Ringo.” Chip’s smirk was audible. “Use your words.”
“Shut up.” Tyco broke through. “Both of you.” He quietly picked a twisted piece of metal as long as a little finger out of Ringo's uniform and held it up to the light. "And Ringo?"
The soldier turned to look at the shrapnel between Tyco's fingers. He raised his eyebrows in appreciation of its length.
"Next time I say we're moving out, you fall in quick, got it?"
"Yes sir." Ringo nodded quietly.
"Then let's go." Tyco said, turning away quickly and dropping the shard of metal in the middle of the road.
FOUR: RENDEZVOUS
The valley became greener as they descended. Trees began to rise in small clusters from the hillside, slowly growing into small forests. The creek became a stream, then a small river. And the road, if anything, became worse. And still, for several long, hot miles, there was no sign of the locals
Tyco, Ghost, and Ringo walked in focused silence, each man checking his display intermittently. They kept to the woods, with Chip trailing at a zealously guarded distance. The silence was eerie; the lack of hostile response only underscored the near-total lack of friendly contacts. With the unit at full strength, they would have seen enemy patrols by now, but their absence gave some indication of how few pods had made it safely to the planet surface. The team moved methodically and warily through the forest, old hands at the game of combat hide-and-seek which strategic insertion demanded. Chip, it seemed, reveled in his isolation, tapping in only when Tyco demanded it. Ringo, meanwhile, could have cared less about the friendly company; his machete bounced ominously against his side, and he kept his eyes peeled for likely future victims.
But Tyco was worried, though he tried not to show it: the improbable odds of his mission were looking worse with each passing second of radio silence. The beacon blinking on his display drew them ever farther into valley, towards the outskirts of civilization below. Once into the city, it would be much harder to slip by undetected. Four guns would not be nearly enough then, with or without armor, and he knew it. That was why he kept up his constant vigil, monitoring his rifle display hopefully and tapping in over the comm at regular, frequent intervals. Two clicks in and out, followed by expe
ctant silence, repeated as often as he dared without broadcasting his position.
His rifle display beeped quietly, and Tyco glanced at it nervously. The glowing white navigation ring told him immediately why it had notified him: based on the their coordinates, they had just entered the intended pod landing zone. At least a dozen pod markers should have shown up on the scanner, and a chorus of clicks should have sounded in answer on the comm. But there was nothing there, nothing but silence all around.
Tyco could feel Ringo’s eyes on him each time he checked, waiting, expectant, and increasingly anxious. Finally, after stopping at the top of a ridge to adjust their course again, he caught Ringo staring back at him, quiet and suspicious, twirling his machete absentmindedly. Ringo looked away slowly, caught the machete cleanly by its blade and replaced it in its holster.
“While it’s just the three of us,” he growled, “You wanna talk about what we’re doing out here?”
Tyco shook his head. “When we reach the rally point.”
Ringo snorted. “Fucking need-to-know bullshit.”
Tyco glanced at Ghost and smiled thinly. “Saving my breath for the right audience.”
“What audience?” Ringo was instantly, bristling at the thought of being disrespected.
“The others, at the rendezvous. Wouldn’t be efficient for me to tell you now.” Tyco watched Ringo carefully, watched the anger build in his eyes. It was a dangerous game he was playing, needling Ringo this early, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Beyond the vague outline he’d given the troopers in the launch bay, he had little more information to give. Until they reached their rendezvous and the satellite updated the information in his rifle display, he couldn’t give him the answers he wanted, and what little he did know would only frustrate him further. So it was better to keep Ringo in the dark and slightly angry, thinking he was being slighted, than try to answer him and allow the seed of doubt to plant in his head. Had it been anyone else asking, Ghost included, he might have felt differently, but with Ringo…
A pinging on his display broke the silence between the men. Ghost and Tyco checked their displays instinctively, ignoring Ringo’s menacing stare.
“Contact.” Tyco looked up at Ghost, seeing the same glimmer of hope in his eyes. “At last.” He turned into the woods, pulling his rifle off his shoulder and setting course directly for the beacon.
They found the pod in a small, green clearing. It was unopened, but not alone. Three of the local soldiers had found it first, and were now trying to force its latch. They laughed easily, making a game of it, taking turns slamming the dark glass with their rifle butts and kicking at it with their boots. The bulletproof door was unresponsive, and Tyco could see through his scope that they were making very little headway.
The soldiers soon grew bored, and their efforts became more focused and earnest. When a quick burst of gunfire did nothing to break the glass, one of the men forced his rifle tip deep into the crack between the latch and the pod's body. He set about throwing his weight against it, working the hard metal deeper into the groove.
The distracted soldiers didn't notice as Tyco crept up on them. They didn’t hear Ringo's machete clanging against his rifle barrel as he took up a flanking position, and they certainly heard nothing of Ghost’s creeping advance along the forest floor. Nor did they hear the crackle of the comms wavelength as Tyco tapped in, trying to reach the trooper in the pod and getting no response.
The rifle rattled in the gap, slowly widening it with each shove. As the hatch creaked open, the soldiers fell silent. They trained their guns on the pod, fingers on triggers, anticipating the moment when the gap would be wide enough to fire through.
Tyco covered his mouth to dampen the sound and tapped in quickly. They were going to need to move fast if they didn’t want to lose this soldier.
“Chip – “ he whispered.
“Sorry, Cap, the trees –“ Chip answered.
Tyco clicked twice in acknowledgment. He turned to Ringo, making a great show of quietly unlatching his safety. Ringo smiled broadly and followed suit. Tyco pointed to the left soldier, then at Ghost. To the right, and at Ringo. The middle soldier, the one forcing the latch, he would take down himself. He sighted in and slid forward even as the gun rattled harshly in the groove its barrel had worn. He took aim at the soldier’s head and raised his hand, preparing for another silent countdown.
It never came to that. The wedged rifle groaned against the latch, forcing it open until it finally gave.
The pod door swung open suddenly and with surprising force. To Tyco’s relief, the pod contained no soldier. Unfortunately for the local soldiers, it contained something else: a dense cluster of wires, a small package of plastic explosive, and a blinking red light. And Tyco smiled, knowing instantly who had been in the pod. In the brief instant the device had been exposed, he had recognized her handiwork.
The pod exploded, the impact roaring through the trees and throwing a giant tongue of flame skywards. The soldiers had had no time to react: one second, they had stood casually, attacking the pod and preparing to dispatch its occupant, the next, they had disappeared, swallowed by the flames erupting from the makeshift explosive.
The team emerged slowly from their cover, staring at the wreckage.
“Clever girl.” Tyco muttered, smiling.
“Well I’ll be – “ Ringo said, and then, “Was that a rig?”
“You bet your ass it was.” Hog emerged from the woods, strutting out towards them. “I saw those fuckers on the way down. Got cracking on that surprise as soon as I hit.”
“Bullshit.” Ringo countered, turning to Tyco for backup. “Cap, come on, that’s bullshit.”
“No kidding.” Tyco chuckled. “Even if she were looking down the whole way, the speed would be – “ He stopped short, seeing the unapologetically murderous look on Hog’s face. “Yeah, I’m not getting into this.” He finished, letting his eyes trail over the destroyed pod. There was little left of the pod, and no trace of the local soldiers. “Nice work.” He grinned at Hog.
Hog smiled at Ringo triumphantly, then glanced over his shoulder. Ghost waved at her shyly, brushing the dirt and leaves from his fatigues. “Is this it?” She asked.
“Well, and – “ Tyco started.
“Hi, Lover.” Chip was in rare form today, his sheer, incredible strangeness oozing across the comm. Recognizing his voice, Hog let him have it right back, her whole body turning lithe and playful as she tapped back her response.
“Come down here and say that, big boy.” She crooned into her mic.
Ringo stared at Tyco, mouthing ‘Big boy?!’ in disbelief. Tyco rolled his eyes and looked away.
“I can’t, Sugar, I’m on the clock.”
“I’ll take a rain check.” Hog shot back, licking her lips audibly, and added, “Stud.” Ringo watched her, open-mouthed. Oblivious to the sarcasm dripping through her voice.
“Are you guys done?” Tyco barked at last, taking pity on Ringo’s anguish. “Yeah? We’re five clicks from town, and I need you sharp when we get there.” Long silence was his answer, and he tapped in again. “Just saying.” He stepped off through the woods, shaking his head as he went.
Ringo, meanwhile, was looking Hog over with new eyes, running a well-practiced eye up and down her figure as if he’d just seen her for the first time.
The look on her face when he finally reached her eyes was enough to freeze the blood racing through his veins. She racked her shotgun meaningfully, without breaking his stare. Ringo wavered for the briefest of instants, then turned on his heel abruptly and strode off, putting distance between the two of them as quickly as possible.
“Women.” He muttered bitterly, to no one in particular, and moved off down the hill.
FIVE: INTO THE BREACH
Civilization came suddenly, in the form of a small, crude suspension bridge. Invisible until they had nearly emerged from the woods, it was little more than a collection of wooden slats laid parallel over thin steel beams
. A rough and fraying rope held the swinging bridge in place over a thundering waterfall. Churned water droplets sprayed up from below, coating the wooden slats in a thin, slick foam. Heavy rubber tire tracks screamed across the wood, their width and the depth of the impressions they had left in the planks looking far in excess of what the flimsy construction could hold.
“They drive machinery over that?!” Hog turned to Tyco in disbelief.
“Hell.” Tyco muttered. “This is the main road to the city.”
The bridge was guarded by two bunkers, one on either side of the chasm below. Smoking, bored-looking soldiers sat and leaned against them. In a more advanced region, on one of the inner planets, the alarm would have been raised by now, and these troops would be on high alert. But here, within ten kilometers of the colony’s capital city, the locals seemed completely unaware, oblivious to the danger advancing towards them.
Tyco frowned. Lazy or not, the troops here outnumbered his team, and there was no way to cross the wide, roaring river either side of the falls without drawing attention. They would have to engage.
“Chip, you seeing anything I’m not?” Tyco tapped in, scanning the facility through his rifle sight from the cover of the woods.
“Little roadblock,” Chip answered helpfully. “Nothing we can’t deal with.”
Tyco sighed, rolling his eyes as Hog smirked at him.
“No, Chip, I meant, how many.”
Silence from the other end, then – “I count seven, but there’s probably a couple more.”
Ringo snorted. “Probably!?” Tyco shook his head, cutting him off before tapping back in.
“Probably?” He repeated.
“Well there’s – trees.”
Tyco sighed. “How about guns?”
A longer silence than before greeted him. Long enough that he had his finger on the comm when the answer came:
“Couple turrets behind some sandbags. That’s it.”
Tyco frowned. He didn’t trust the carefree ease in Chip’s voice. “Alright,” He said, peering down towards the roadblock warily. “Hold your position and wait for my mark.” He turned to the team and nodded ahead to his left and right, picking out positions he knew they’d find on their own. “Let’s get to work.”
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