“Got him!” Chase radioed triumphantly. “Withdrawing now.”
“Good work,” Reggie cheered. “Hang around the area. Don’t give him anything to shoot at, but keep in visual contact.”
“Roger,” Chase replied.
A one-legged Dragon wasn’t going to be a match for a Jackal laden with reflective missiles. Its point defense anti-missile system was useless. It couldn’t maneuver to cover.
There has to be a rescue effort coming.
[Dragon[3] – 51% To Hit]
With his reticule pre-settled in place and waiting, Reggie fired as soon as the Heavenly Mafia juggernaut came into view. The rest of the enemy platoon was hot on his heels. They’d gambled that either Reggie wouldn’t have the patience to hold this position after getting spotted or that they could rush past as a group and get away with a little damage. It was either that or go down one juggernaut early.
Artillery shells landed ahead of the scurrying pack of enemies. June must have been prepared for this, same as Lin and Reggie. One of the Dragons fell, tripped up by the blast. Reggie had been about to squeeze off a prayer at a 51 percent chance but adjusted his aim to Dragon[1] as it struggled to its feet.
Lin was already ahead of him. Her shot struck home. Reggie took a 74 percent chance and followed up.
Dragon[1] Torso: 74/110
Nothing disastrous to the enemy Dragon, but he did note a damaged heat sink from Frank’s advanced scan. They’d get repaired soon enough but never come back to 100 percent function the rest of the battle. Small victories could add up over time. Reggie was happy playing an attrition war.
“Chase, get out of there,” Reggie warned as the rest of Heavenly Mafia got clear of the kill zone. “The other four are closing in.”
“Vamanos, compadre!” Chase hooted as Diablo turned tail and fled for the safety of the other Ghost Platoon juggernauts.
“June, you’ve got them on tactical. Keep on them. Don’t lose sight of them again.”
“Copy that,” June replied. “I’ll keep them lit.”
“Frank, we should have dropped off persistent scan by now,” Reggie radioed out. “Let’s pack up and head for the intersection at Foxtrot-Two-Five. Set up a similar ambush facing east.”
Everyone confirmed the order. Chase caught up via a roundabout route and fell in behind them. His paint job was worse for wear, but all the functional elements of Diablo were in working order. Ghost Platoon was hanging in against the bigger, more heavily gunned Heavenly Mafia.
At their next ambush site, Reggie and Lin got off another volley of shots, but this time Heavenly Mafia was close enough to return fire. That suited Reggie just fine. While his own shots went wide more often than not, trying to hit barely exposed enemy juggernauts as they poked out from cover with Beam Cannon-Ls, Lin punched back with deadeye shots of her own. When return fire came back, Heavenly Mafia tried to avoid Frank’s beam-reflective shield. Time and again, the lasers angled off and lit fires in the surrounding skyscrapers. What little incoming fire got through to Yulong paled in comparison to the damage she did in return.
“Keep it up,” Reggie radioed, trying not to break his own concentration as he aimed 1100m down the cavernous city streets. “They think this is their ideal engagement range. Don’t give up this engagement as long as they think that.”
The optimal range on an Anti-Matter Projector topped out at 1km, and with accuracy penalties adding up, it could manage 3km. The Beam Cannon-L maxed out at 1,200m for dealing damage. While the Heavenly Mafia pilots might have liked to close the distance to 800m for their own best accuracy, they were making sure Lin and Reggie had to take penalties firing back.
The fools.
It was a punch and counterpunch scenario. Plus, Lin had taken a number of restrictive perks that made her very, very good at doing exactly one thing: long-range sniping with this exact weapon. Reggie wasn’t even sure she had a penalty to accuracy, regardless of the range. Lin’s Gunnery build was a hindrance to her performance in so many ways other than this one scenario. So, until that fact became public knowledge, Reggie was going to let Heavenly Mafia play into it.
Time and again, one of the Dragons or the long Shinigami would poke out to fire off a burst of lasers. Sometimes they hit; sometimes they missed. But nearly every time one or more of them came out of cover to aim, Lin put a round from the Anti-Matter Projector into one.
“They can’t be this stupid,” Lin remarked.
“It’s not stupidity,” June answered back. “They’re struggling for options. If they relocate, they’re at the mercy of us spotting them first and setting up another ambush. If they just fall back, we finish off their downed buddy, and it’s the ambush again. They can’t catch me, not even with the Shinigami. There are only two options left for them.”
“This one and what else?” Chase asked. He’d been sitting one street over, waiting for the word to flank around and take Heavenly Mafia by surprise.
“This one,” Reggie said as all the juggernauts of Heavenly Mafia fell completely out of sight. Thanks to June’s continued spotting, Ghost Platoon didn’t lose track as the enemy cut down a side street, closing in on their ambush location.
They were coming in for melee combat.
“Let’s get ready for some real action,” Frank said with glee. He’d been a trooper thus far, holding up a defensive shield for the snipers, but it was clear by the sudden shift in demeanor that he’d been itching for a real fight.
Just like a boxing match, the early rounds had gone to one fighter, and the one behind on points felt the need for a desperate push of the action. Heavenly Mafia wanted to take a piece of Ghost Platoon in melee combat while they still had armor left.
“Prepare to receive an incoming charge,” Reggie warned everyone—well, not quite everyone. “June, time an artillery strike for when they come around that corner.” He didn’t have time to figure out the map coordinates and prepare himself to meet a heavier foe at the same time.
“You’ve got it,” June replied. As an afterthought, below her breath, Reggie and the rest of the platoon heard her muttering to herself. “What’s the deal with this funky, top-down aiming view, why can’t it just—shit. Sorry. Left the mic open, I—” she cut off her own half-formed apology.
Heavenly Mafia careened around a corner, three remaining Dragons and one Shinigami. It was four on four, but one side weighed a total of 60 tons more than the other. Mass meant a lot when it came to melee combat.
Being upright, however, often meant more.
June’s artillery shell crashed into the asphalt just as the Mafia was all in view. While the blast did relatively minor damage, the Shinigami and Dragon[4] went down after being buffeted by the shock wave.
“Frank, Lin, take the ones on their feet!” Reggie ordered. Wasting no time, he and Chase closed in to take on the downed juggernauts while they still held an advantage of leverage.
Reggie took on the Shinigami. If Chase wanted the lighter opponent, he ought to have reacted quicker. The Shinigami wasn’t armed for melee combat except for its massive fists. Against a similarly massive adversary, that might not have been enough, but against Reggie’s Wolverine, the 25-ton difference in mass meant those punches could be deadly.
Thus, Reggie’s first course of action was to remove those arms. Vortex’s Ninjato chopped downward in an arc.
Shinigami Right Arm: 40/50
The enemy pilot took a wild swing from its hands and knees, but Reggie dodged easily. There was just something about fighting in close combat that seemed like child’s play compared to aiming a gun where the game’s stats always felt like they were fighting the player. Hours—no years—of hand-to-hand combat in both the real world and Silent Shuriken had honed his instincts to the point where he didn’t need to anticipate his opponent’s reactions. He just moved.
And counterattacked.
Shinigami Right Arm: 30/50
The Shinigami stopped trying to fight back or even defend itself. The pilot diverted all his
efforts to getting back on his feet. Reggie slashed again.
Shinigami Right Arm: 20/50
By now the Shinigami was nearly upright. But all juggernauts were inherently cumbersome beasts. Even the smallest of light juggernauts struggled once downed. Vortex planted a foot behind one of the Shinigami’s and rammed a shoulder into its abdomen. The juggernaut collapsed face-first, allowing Reggie an unprecedented opportunity to drop all of Vortex’s weight onto the back of its head via an elbow drop.
Shinigami Head: 45/60
Distracted as he was by his own personal combat, Reggie didn’t even realize Chase’s distress until a panicked voice came over the radio. “Sorry, guys, I’m about to—”
And Diablo was gone.
“Frank, Lin, report in!” Reggie ordered.
“I’ve got this,” Lin replied.
“Leisurely dismantling,” Frank reported with a satisfied air.
“Reggie, watch out behind you!” June shouted.
Of course! Chase had left one of the Dragons up and functional just 50 meters to Reggie’s side. It hadn’t taken the roughed-up Dragon long to make its way over to assist the downed and outclassed Shinigami—whose pilot was no doubt never going to hear the end of it, being saved from a Wolverine.
Reggie rose from pinning the Shinigami just in time to kick out and trip the Dragon. Soon, all three juggernauts lay in a heap under the shadow of a skyscraper. Vortex was pinned under the Dragon’s bulk while still atop the squirming Shinigami, unable to rise from 150 tons of metallic war machines bearing down on it.
“Sorry, Reggie,” June warned. Reggie’s eyes widened. On the map, June was located inside the skyscraper next door.
No.
Not inside.
It was a 2D map. Artemis was on the roof.
Like a thunderbolt from the sky, Artemis plummeted. Reggie could barely see past the Dragon grappling with him to watch her descent. When she hit, everything in the cockpit went dark.
But Reggie didn’t reappear in the green room as he expected. Within a few seconds, pale red emergency lighting came on. There was a countdown timer to main power coming back online. Vortex had survived but only barely.
Reggie’s only information about the battle came out the front window. All his computers were down. There was nothing he could do but wait and strain to make out what was going on.
The Dragon rose, and Reggie feared that his reprieve would be brief. But instead of using its fist to put Vortex out of its misery, the Dragon flopped aside. Then it was Vortex’s turn to leave the ground. Gremlin set the Wolverine gently aside and turned its attention to the Shinigami trapped beneath.
Frank made short work of it.
[Sole Objective: Destroy Enemy Juggernauts 4/5]
Four? When had three others been finished off?
Reggie wanted answers, but they were going to have to wait.
With a view of the sky above, Reggie watched for the fireworks.
[Sole Objective Complete: Destroy Enemy Juggernauts 5/5]
WINNER: GHOST PLATOON.
When they reappeared in the green room, there were hugs and claps on the back aplenty.
“But what happened? I didn’t get any updates until there was only one enemy left,” Reggie protested.
“My bad,” June said with a bashful shrug. “You must have gotten knocked cold on impact.”
“Not enough points in Toughness,” Frank set with a jutted jaw.
“We fucked those noobs up good,” Lin reported, finally filling in the blanks. “You and Chase took on two of those heavies while Frank and I downed our own. Then we cleared shit up. June wrecked both of Artemis’s legs in the fall—”
“Art imitating life,” June muttered.
“And so, while Frank came over to curb stomp that Shinigami, I went over to take target practice on the Dragon that couldn’t walk.”
A little chuckle grew inside Reggie until he burst out laughing. He punched Chase in the shoulder. “Hah! Your batshit crazy stunts all worked out. We won!”
Matches for Round Two:
[Psychedelic Thugs (1) vs. Dimwit Heroes (11)]
[Slapdash (2) vs. Ghost Platoon (10)]
[Lucky Outlaws (3) vs. School of Pain (8)]
[Hard Target (4) vs. Angry Slayers (5)]
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ghost Platoon’s stay in the green room wasn’t a time for relaxation or celebration. After a brief acknowledgment of their win, their efforts turned to preparation.
“We’re up against the number two seed,” Chase informed everyone as if the numeral behind the team name Slapdash wasn’t enough of a clue.
Frank scratched at his jawline as he looked at the tournament bracket. “I don’t get it. We should be up against those fellas from School of Pain, shouldn’t we? They look a helluva lot easier.”
“Reseeding,” Lin said with a huff. “It keeps lucky shits like us from pulling one upset and getting an easy ride to the grand finals through the middle-tier seeds.”
Frank cracked his knuckles. “Didn’t feel easy.”
June was fixated on the side screen in Ghost Platoon’s private lounge, watching a replay of the Slapdash’s first round battle against the fifteen seed, Train Robbers. Chase was tapping away at his tablet. Lin was texting someone. Frank seemed fine riding out the short wait to their next match at the buffet, but Reggie felt the need to be doing something.
He just didn’t know what.
“Frank,” Chase called out without looking up from the screen in his hand. “You ever operate field artillery?”
Frank looked up from the buffet with half a chili dog in his hand and one cheek bulging. “I was a tanker, you clod! I was what those artillery boys were shooting at! Those rat bastards can sit on a bayonet if you ask me.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Chase replied amiably. “Because you’re going to be toting this next round.”
Chase turned his tablet around and showed it to Frank. Reggie leaned in, trying to make out what it displayed.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Frank said, wagging his chili dog at the tablet. “You’re not getting me to wear a howitzer as a backpack.”
Chase angled the screen for Reggie, Lin, and June to get their looks.
“Going all in on the arty?” June asked. “Did I do that good with my little 150?”
On the tablet was a proposed version of Gremlin. The shield from the first round of the finals was gone. The Tiger still had its sword—defaulting to wielded and not stowed. In the sword’s usual place at Gremlin’s back was a giant artillery gun.
“I’d like to introduce you to the IDF Ballistic Cannon-406, manufactured by Gottpanzer GmbH,” Chase said proudly.
“That’s a fortress defense gun,” Lin said with a scowl.
“That’s ridiculous,” June added.
Frank scratched at his scalp. “That’s a navy gun; that’s what that is. It’d knock me clear off my feet.”
“No, it won’t,” Chase assured him. “The Tiger is the smallest juggernaut that can safely mount and fire one. I’ve removed most of the rear armor to make up the weight, but the weapon should act as makeshift armor. Plus, we don’t want you overbalancing backward.”
Reggie shook his head in disbelief. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
Chase hooked a thumb at the clock. “I don’t have time to be joking around with this shit. Reggie, you’re back on Plasma Launchers. June, keep the IDF piece. I’m switching to Plasma Launchers right along with Reggie.”
“And me?” Lin asked. “You’re gearing up to defend an indirect fire build. You’ve got nothing but artillery and close-range support.”
Chase shook his head. “You’re still carrying us. No one’s adapted to your Anti-Matter Projector sniping, and I can’t gamble the loss of that much upside that this will be the match someone manages. I can’t see a hard counter, either. Worst case, they marginalize you.”
“So,” Reggie said, eyeing the clock that said they had under five minutes to p
rep. “You and me sneak in, keep targets lit, and dodge Frank’s thunderstorm?”
“It’s 15 damage per shell,” Chase said. “Can’t argue with that.”
“Or aim it,” Lin pointed out. “There’s a reason you don’t see juggernauts built for mobile artillery use. You’re getting too cute.”
Chase waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Grow up!” Lin snapped. “This is no time for fooling around.”
Chase grew serious. “Frank, Reggie, thumbprints to confirm.” He held out the tablet while both complied. “This isn’t a joke. If you can’t have a little fun anymore between shots of adrenaline, fine. But this plan is serious. We’ve got to keep these guys guessing because every last team in this rodeo is better than us in a fair fight.”
With under three minutes left, it was time to talk strategy. “June, what’ve you seen on the tape?”
Chase snickered at Reggie calling it tape.
“Slapdash is a bunch of marksmen,” June said. “Not sure any of them is Lin’s match, but they all look better than the rest of us. Three Titans with Anti-Matter Projectors, two Phoenixes running sub-caliber ballistic guns like I was until yesterday.”
Reggie turned to Chase. “Artillery is the perfect counter.”
Chase shrugged. “She looked like she was having fun watching the replays.” He turned to Lin with a raised eyebrow. “I do know what I’m doing here.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
When Reggie was a kid, his family had taken a cross-country vacation. He’d gotten a chance to see the Great Lakes, the redwood trees, and the Grand Canyon. Along the way, they’d passed through the Badlands. He’d viewed it through the window of his parents’ SUV instead of the panoramic glass of Vortex’s cockpit, but the arena for Ghost Platoon’s match against Slapdash looked eerily similar.
Ghost Platoon Page 19
