Michael Williamson: When Diplomacy Fails…

“Oh,” she said, and pulled at her phone. She seemed lucid, but slowed. That wasn’t the trank, that was shock.

“Corcoran, cover me,” he said and slid down next to her. He took the phone from her, unshielded it, slid in the battery.

She still had trouble focusing.

“Big battle. Current location. Ms. Highland fleeing anti-government factions. Trying to reach friendly lines of the Sufi.”

“We’re trying to reach the Sufi?”

“That’s what we’re saying.”

“Oh.”

She got it done, and he wondered about disabling the phone again or letting her keep it live. Their location would be known in moments anyway.

Lionel shouted, “Traffic stop, prepare to unass!”

Amidst the rattle of weapon checks and reloading, Horace turned to Highland. “Ready, ma’am?” he asked, coaxing her from a sit to a squat.

“Yes, I am,” she said. She brushed residual sorbent off her pants and strained into position.

A glance confirmed there were a lot more combatants around here.

“Listen to me,” he said, and waited for them both to face him. “I will debark first, and help each of you down. Marlin will front for Jessie. Ms. Highland, you follow me. We will move quickly to improvised cover. Then we can expect to be moving under fire constantly for a while. If I go down, follow Marlin until someone else gives instructions. If he goes down, follow me. Understood?”

“Yes.” “Uh huh.”

“Stand by.”

He craned enough to get another glimpse. There weren’t a lot of hostiles, though there seemed to be quite a few snipers. There was a crush of vehicles that would stop any progress.

“Here we go,” he said.

The vehicle stopped fast but relatively smoothly, given the damaged road and trash. He leaned far back, and grabbed Highland’s shoulder to stop her falling forward. Corcoran did the same with Jessie.

As the momemtum slackened, he slid out the back. Corcoran and Marlin dropped off on either side and fired suppressive bursts. Then Highland slid off the deck, followed by Jessie.

Elke was ready to have fun. She had shotgun, carbine and toys, and no one to stop her until they reached cover. She sprung over the side of the truck, soaked up the impact sting in her feet, and tossed a smoke forward. She raised the shotgun, selected smoke-bangs and fired both, one each way down the street. The two teams swarmed past her into a building, and she brought up the rear seeking anything to shoot. She tugged the lanyard off the present on the truck.

A shot cracked the concrete next to her. She followed it generally back, looking for the source. Across the street and up three floors, a rifleman leaned out a window. Silly, silly. She thumbed for antiarmor and shot. Bart did, too, with a burst of mid caliber, and Jason swung for a shot. The man exploded into goo, but she was fairly sure her charge had blown his armor through his chest a moment before the others.

As she backed through the door, she heard, “Through that?” from an incredulous Cady.

Aramis and Alex stood together. Aramis had a route projected on a filthy gray wall.

“Yes,” Alex said. “En masse, shooting anything in our way, straight along the alley. Then turn left and meet the checkpoint.”

“How do we stop them shooting us?”

“Yeah, I’m working on that,” Aramis said. “Hopefully they’ll recognize some combination of us or Ms. Highland.”

Lionel asked, “Did this seem like a good idea at the time?” while he and Jason loaded more ammo into Bart’s rig.

Alex said, “Still does, barring any new ones.”

“No, I have nothing. Except ammo.”

“Let’s move.”

Elke checked locations of her accessories by touch and fell in behind Bart and Aramis. It was always best to lead with firepower.

As they left through the south, someone finally got courage to go for the vehicle. She heard the boobytrap hiss in that sibilant white noise, which presaged a shrieking scream of anguish. Flammable metals didn’t stop for much, certainly not textiles, and moist flesh just made them react more.

They made it across the street as a mass before anyone caught them. However, as they entered the alley, fire behind them erupted.

“Man down! Man down! Corcoran is down!”

Cady shouted, “Marlin, stay with him, get to cover.”

They might lose a lot over this. In the meantime, though, Elke turned and shot her last three obscurants to the alley mouth, and dumped a gun into the haze. It ran empty, she slid a prepared case into it, and pulled the trigger. She tossed it aside for some local to find. When he opened the breech he’d be without a face.

Peasants never learned not to mess with strangers. Perhaps, though, she could improve their manners a bit with gentle reminders.

Her load was significant and she panted. Thank god she didn’t have the principal, the hanger on, or the Medusa.

At that moment Bart splashed something else overhead. Another drone.

Aramis said, “We have lots of recon. Active searches right now.”

She pulled her monitor from her chest pouch and looked. There were lots of feeds, lots of scans.

“They’re searching all frequencies and nets. They’ll have us in a moment.”

“A hundred and fifty meters,” Bart said.

Alex said, “Good. Ms. Highland, please look up in the air for a few moments.”

“Uh?”

“Look up. We want them to see you. We’ll go between these buildings single file, and fast. That will put us one street from the CP. Okay, that’s enough.” Highland was still staring up. She seemed completely broken and pliable now. It was amusing how impending death changed people’s self-assessment.

It was also interesting how far 150 metres could be in hostile territory.

“We should go active,” Elke said.

“How?”

“Bart and I clear the route, loudly. After all, we want notice.”

Alex said, “Do it. Formation, check loads, thumbs up, and go.”

Elke led the way down the gap. It wasn’t even an alley. If someone collapsed the building, they were all fucked and forgotten. She went at a sprint. Behind her, Bart scraped and banged the walls. He had only two functional guns now, one carbine, one rifle. The long range and grenade guns were dry.

“Dump that in the street,” she called over her shoulder.

“I plan to,” he huffed.

The view ahead wasn’t encouraging. She turned over her shoulder and shouted, “I’ll need to create a new door over there.”

Alex was behind Highland this time, against his better judgment, but the firepower was up front, the principal in the middle, and he needed to ensure she made it. The rest were expendable. Meat shields were useful, but they’d get in the way of the firepower.

He heard Elke’s statement and knew that meant explosives. Shit.

Elke reached the street. He knew because it got loud and smoky, then louder still. Bart fired a long burst, then unslung the Medusa.

That was a hint to hurry the fuck up.

He burst into light followed by Cady, and a scan showed the problem. They’d come out exactly between two factions, right in the middle. He’d thought Aramis meant that as a hypothetical, not to actually do it. Both sides tried to fire through the smoke.

Elke fired two rounds one way, turned and fired two the other, yanked something on her shotgun, and threw it. She slung two things on slings each way, and sprinted across the street.

Aramis and Shaman had Highland and rushed her behind. Lionel scooped a finally exhausted Jessie over his shoulder and followed.

Alex shouted, “Run you fuckers! Fire in the hole!” He made a quick head count by eye, and charged for cover.

Ahead, the world exploded. Again. This couldn’t be healthy.

He groggily cleared the street just as the Medusa went into self-destruct mode. It locked onto anything moving and fired until it ran dry. Ten seconds later it exploded. So did Elke’s shotgun. Enough explosive should dissuade anyone. It was certainly dissuading him.