The Spartan of Apex - 8

Chapter 9

"This should be easy for you two," Janik said, setting the clipboard down on the plastic table.

He looked 257 and Schmotz over, waiting for an answer. They had just been through the full plan. They knew their roles. He didn't expect Schmotz to say anything at all. He was like a statue. Rather a robot. Ready to take orders. Ready to act them out. He never complained nor disagreed. 257, on the other hand, was a mouthy little bitch. She was probably coming up with some snarky, smart-ass correction. Some detail she wanted to accuse him of missing.

"Infiltrate. Distract." She shrugged, "it's a cakewalk. Don't know why yer so worried."

He raised a brow. Shook his head. "I'm not worried. I'd be worried if I sent anyone else. You alpha hunters should be used to painful missions like this." He then pointed at Sven who was glued to her side. "Is that mutt going to be a problem for you? You can lea--"

"My dog ain't a fuckin' mutt." She snapped around the end of her cigarette. "He's a purebred, something yer sauerkraut ass should have more respect for!"

He lifted his scruffy chin. Arms crossed. "Is that supposed to be a remark on my bloodline?" He snatched the cigarette out of her mouth and snuffed it out between his boot and the dirt. "Because if it is, I could have you reprimanded for discrimination."

"Ha! As if you would or could, Major Kraut." She wasn't backing down. "This ain't no formal military."

"Ah, you are right," he touched his chin. "This isn't the army at all. Which means I'm not held back by silly regulations and laws." He stepped up closer to her, "which means I could do anything I want to you based on how I feel in the moment. And I don't have to worry about someone else crying over it."

"I'd like to see yo---" She was cut off when Schmotz's shoulder bumped into hers.

He had turned around sharply and hit her. Presumably it was an accident. When she looked up at him, she could see the way his lips contorted. He wanted her attention.

"Shut up," he grumbled. His voice came out with a teutonic rasp. A mechanical flare backed it up with a minor distortion. 

"Ho' shit," she exasperated, "yer a goddamned kraut, too!"

Janik took a step back and stared at him. Schmotz never spoke. He figured he was the only one that alpha spoke to and he only ever said 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir'. Even then it was rare. Now he was speaking not just in front of someone else, but to someone else. To her. Now that was something he could work with.

Schmotz headed out of the tent. Distracted and confused, 257 ignored Janik. She completely forgot about her argument with him. She followed Schmotz outside where he was waiting for her.

"He's left it up to us," she said, fishing in her pouch for her pack of cigarettes. "I think we should sweep around their flank and punch in. Keep it quiet until the explosives go off."

He shrugged and hugged his rifle against his chest plate.

She groaned as they walked on through the camp.

"Y'know, I was starting to think you didn't have a voice box at all," she held the pack up for him to take one once she had a cigarette in her mouth.

Schmotz took one and waited for the lighter to be passed.

She stared up at him. Studied him. His voice was a lot like hers. No longer a natural sound. Computer generated some would say. Synthetic replacements.

Which meant he had been injured. Similar to her. Now that she was actually paying attention and looking for those details, she noticed them. The discoloration of his lower lip just above the chinstrap of his helmet. The same discoloration on his neck. At least what she could see.

They had just gotten out of the camp and she had not stopped staring at him. Schmotz finally noticed it from the corner of his eye. A blatant stare and he wasn’t sure why.

He stopped abruptly. Grabbed her by the helmet with both hands. She gasped as she was pulled in closer to him. She could hear his fingers brushing over the sides of her helmet, clicking the buttons. Her HUD flashed briefly. A menu pulled up, scrolled through. 

“H-hey!” She stuttered. “What the hell is with you?!” She reached up for his arms only for her HUD to disappear. Then reappear. The projected vision through the visor of just his hidden face zoomed out into its own window, leaving the live copy in full view as it should have been. 

He let go of her to grip his rifle and headed down the path.

She blinked and reached up to hit the buttons on her helmet. She scrolled through the menu to select the gallery. Sure enough. He had taken a picture of himself. 

“Wh-what the hell?” She looked over at him. 

He was making good time in his silent march. He had not even looked back to see if she was coming. 

257 jogged to catch up to Schmotz. 

“You can’t be goin’ on and doin’ that!” She tried to scold him, but her words were broken up by suppressed laughter. “That’s jus--Oh, ho, you think yer some kind of comedian, don’t you?”

She plucked the cigarette from her mouth so she could safely rub it. He was back to being totally silent. She could only wonder why. Alphas were not the type to shut down like that. They always held strong. Maybe he didn't like his new voice.

They walked in silence for quite a ways. An hour at most before 257 spoke up again.

She clicked a button on the side of her helmet to pull up the satellite image of the encampment they were to assault.

"I think it'd be best to go in at the flank," she said. "We can most likely breach here or here," two yellow markers popped up on the map, which he should have been able to see as well.

Schmotz didn't say anything. He looked at the map and listened. He would have just walked in himself. The Russians used no real tact. Just numbers. It could only get them so far.

"We should target the motor pool." She added. "If the imagery is right, that should be here." Another yellow marker within the encampment.

When he gave her no response, she sighed and looked up at him.

"Any suggestions?" She asked. "Opinions? A better idea?"

He shrugged.

"Do you agree then?"

Another shrug.

"Look, bro', you've gotta give me somethin' here!"

Another cigarette lit, she groaned. "Fuck me. You jus' better have my back. We'll have a real fuckin' problem if you don't."

The encampment was positioned in a low valley between a series of rough hills and a mountain. A recent landslide stripped the mountain bare and blocked off travel on the southern side. No vehicles were going to get through that drying sludge. Approaching from the eastern side, along the mountain, would give them away. No foliage to cover their movements. Only open ground.

They would have to take the western approach. Up through the rough terrain of the hills. At least the trees would hide them especially with the sun beginning to set.

With their camouflage activated to fit into their surroundings, their silhouettes were broken up. They blended near seamlessly into the shrubs and trees.

They climbed over boulders and fallen trees. Kept their heads low. Around to the southern side, they sat and waited.

When the shadows crept to the concrete barricades, they moved.

They hurried down the hill. Threw themselves against one of the barricades. Their helmets were able to pick up the minute sounds the Russian soldiers made as they patrolled. It caused red dots to pop up on their minimaps. The dots pulsed and moved as the noises registered.

The dog plastered to her side, looked out opposite of her. They moved around the barricades for an opening. The huge blocks of concrete and sand were used sparingly around the perimeter. Used just to keep vehicles out. 

When a pair of guards disappeared around a corner they moved into the camp no louder than an owl in flight. 

They breached through the barricades a little far from the motorpool. They had to move around the temporary trailers and tents to get to the vehicle station. It was smooth sailing. With the use of their radars they easily slipped around the guards. 

The vehicles weren't even guarded! They moved right in between two trucks. Through to the second row. 

And right into a tiny squad of four guys who were sitting in the dirt, hiding among the trucks. They were smoking something, sneaking in drinks they shouldn't have even had. 

The helmets didn't pick them up at all. Not so much as a hint of something that could potentially be there!

257 came around one truck and nearly stepped on one of them tucked against the tire. The four Russians stared up at her wide eyed.

Then Schmotz came around to see why she stopped in the open.

One of the Russians grabbed his rifle and stood up. 

Schmotz didn't hesitate. He was ready for it. His rifle was already shouldered, the barrel down to keep from aiming at 257. Now it was lifted right over her shoulder. A single burst of three rounds thundered out next to her ear. She winced at the noise even with the dampeners activating to soften it.

The Russian that stood up went straight back down. His chest burst open. 

The others jumped up and went for their weapons.

257 crouched down part way to give Schmotz full movement behind her. Brought her weapon up. 

The one nearest her tackled her to the ground before she could get a shot off. Schmotz stayed close, but focused on the other two. 

Sven lunged into the soldier now trying to wrestle the rifle from 257's hands. The first few nips did nothing to distract him. So, it sank is titanium canines into his arm just above the elbow. 

He hollered as he was pulled around. 257 smacked the barrel across his face and rolled on top of him. 

The end of the barrel passed into the back of his neck. She fired. Blood spilled out from his throat like a bursting dam. In fact, there wasn't much of a neck left. Just the strongest of the tendons and tattered skin. 

She snapped her fingers as she straightened herself. Schmotz stood over the other two bodies, the end of his rifle expelling the smoke from the spent rounds. 

"Fuck my life," she exhaled. 

An alarm blared from somewhere in the camp. A call to arms. They could hear the Russians shouting and running this way. 

"Come on," she adjusted the strap of her rifle and took off between the trucks. 

Schmotz followed her. He kept his rifle at the ready. She wasn't bothering to check corners now. Someone else had to cover for her. 

She stopped in the middle of the motor pool. Knelt down. Dug into her bag for the blocks of C4.

She held them out to Schmotz, but he refused to take them. He was better used as a lookout for now. 

With a grunt, she took the C4 for herself and stuck them to the hoods of the trucks around them. Five pounds worth of C4 was more than enough to set the whole yard ablaze. 

The Russians fired at them. Rounds pinged off the trucks. They were getting closer. 

Schmotz returned fire. Careful to ensure each shot hit its mark. As she moved he followed her nearly walking backwards the whole while. 

"We've gotta clear out!" She called to him. "Come on!" 

Out the other side, she ran across the open pathway to one of the trailers. Once Schmotz was at her side again, she got the detonation switch. The C4 in the middle of the motor pool exploded with a tower of flames and black smoke. The trucks exploded, sending the shrapnel made from their chassis and engines into the other trucks. A domino effect of fire and combustion. It took only seconds for nearly every vehicle parked in the yard to be engulfed in fire. 

The soldiers that happened to have been there might as well have disintegrated. Just pieces were left of them and their gear. 

"Fuck," she panted. "There's no gettin' out of here."

The radar was lit up with red dots. They were surrounded. 

They weren't meant to escape, however. Janik wanted them inside to keep the Russians distracted long enough for the rest of the mercenaries to show up. The signal was out there. Now they just had to stay alive. 

The Russians were searching for them. They weren't going to let them leave alive. 

257 and Schmotz did the only thing they knew. They fought. They moved back south slowly. Took potshots as they could. Grenades helped keep the soldiers away. If they could keep all the eyes on them to the south, then Janik could get his men in on the north side. 

Minutes felt like hours. The mercenaries could not arrive fast enough. When they did they came in like a herd of wildebeest. Headfirst at full speed. They barreled through the soldiers and the tents. Mercenaries dropped out of the trucks firing.

The Russians didn't stand a chance. Even with their superior numbers, they were punched in between a rock and a hard place with no real leadership to spare.

257 was smart enough to make her way around to the armory to claim it as her own. She and Schmotz together held it from the Russians, preventing them from getting any extra munitions that could have won them the fight. 

It didn't come without its own risk, however. 

A squad of Russians mounted their own mission to take back their armory. 

The only way in or out was through the front door which was left wide open. The soldiers couldn’t see Schmotz knelt down towards the back behind one of the crates. Nor could they see 257 tucked away with the dog closer to the door. There were already a handful of dead soldiers stacked up at the door. Brave men who dared funnel through to death.

One soldier put his shoulder against the frame. He blindly tossed a flash grenade towards the middle of the building. 

The only sound that reverberated out of the armory was the bang of the grenade detonating. The room flooded with a blinding white light.

Luckily, the galea IV had a built in safety. The cameras on the visor shut off temporarily as soon as it detected the bright light. This shut down the HUD and blacked out their vision.

The unfortunate aspect was how long it took for the cameras to turn back on. Several precious seconds….

The Russians bursted through the open door, weapons at the ready. All six of them cleared through the room in search of whoever was in there.

Those few seconds were all the soldiers needed. Three of them jumped on 257 and the other three went after Schmotz.

Sven bit into the arm of the first soldier who tried to knock her down. When the second one touched her, she reacted with a swift knee to his pelvis.

Her HUD kicked back on in time to see the third coming. He caught her arm and despite a good kick to his leg, he held steadfast.

Now, as an alpha, 257 could hold her own. With the right movement, she could kill these soldiers in the blink of an eye. Her only problem would be strength. As long as they didn't grab her or land a good blow, she could handle it.

She used her speed to her advantage and dipped around both of their fists. She nailed one of them in the chin and sent him reeling back. Yet she was left open and couldn't stop the other soldier from nailing her in the side of the head.

She dropped to the ground instantly. Her helmet took most of the impact. He shook his hand and hissed from the busted knuckles.

257 got back to her feet on her own and just in time for them to come at her again. Stuck between them, she did the best thing she could think of.

She grabbed the pistol on her hip. She just had to do it with her off hand since her good arm was preoccupied in one of their grips.

She managed to get it out in an awkward reverse grip. She had no time to fix that.

Shoot now or die.

She put the end of the barrel against the soldier's stomach and used her pinky to pull the trigger. He stumbled back and let her go. The pistol moved up to point at his jaw. Another bang.

She fired a few more times with that reverse grip when the second soldier tried to disarm her. When he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, she winced and reached over her shoulder.

In the struggle he had plunged his own blade into her back.

Schmotz, meanwhile, didn't struggle anywhere near as bad as her. By the time the three soldiers got to him, he could already see. They may have been on top of him, but he was just as big as they were. 

He tucked his rifle under his arm and unsheathed his karambit. He was in headfirst, holding his ground and fighting back. He didn't even move from his spot. The first one charged him and he deflected. Sliced the karambit around his arm.

Sure, the soldier was still alive, but now half of his arm was cut with a spiral from elbow to shoulder blade. Flayed open nearly down to the bone.

The other two thought they could take him down together. They certainly tried. A couple of good hits to his exoskeleton. Then they were on the ground. One with his throat slit open and blood gushing from his neck and mouth. The other gutted like some red pig.

When he looked up from the bodies, he saw 257 near the front door. She had just finished off the last soldier with a shot between the eyes while the dog held him down. She held her shoulder and even from here, he could see the knife stuck in her flesh.