Commando, p.21
Commando, page 21
“Thanks,” he said, stepping into the room.
The door closed behind him.
I returned to the front desk. The next customer wasn’t for another hour.
This one had given me something to think about.
Was the game really running that close to the edge? On the surface, it seemed pretty simple compared to something like Golden Realms that had over a dozen races, each with millennia-old history and a huge world. But there was a complexity to Battlegrounds Online. The persistent world required a lot of AI calculations to keep it going smoothly and logically. That was a lot of processing power.
Which cost a lot of money.
How close to the edge was the game?
Would I play for another couple months only to have it crash and burn?
Then what?
Crawl back to Golden Realms? Find some other new game and have the same thing happen?
There were dozens of new ones that launched every year and failed that same year. People didn’t want to leave the games they were invested in, sometimes literally, with real money. I’d done it, but I was the rare one.
For that reason, it was hard for a new game to get off the ground. The first members were folks like me, the few that were tired of the old games and jumped ship. The hope was those would be enough to float the new game for a couple of months and generate some word-of-mouth advertising that would draw in more members.
Most times that didn’t work.
I didn’t want that to happen with Battlegrounds, but it was a real fear.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The alley was dark.
Which was perfect for my needs.
It was tight, the walls of the two-story buildings on either side made of brick. The sound carried, bouncing up the walls. Loud.
At least to me.
Probably really wasn’t, but it felt and sounded like it was.
The squad I’d been assigned to was loud. Each of their footsteps on the hard ground, or leg hitting a trash barrel, wood pallet, or something else, echoed through the alley. I was sure we’d be caught.
I’d gotten used to running with a Knights squad where I was the one making the most noise.
If someone did hear us, at least they’d take out the elephants first. But I was right in the middle of the line of Del Muertan soldiers. Three in front, three in back.
The alley wasn’t that long, so we were packed pretty close. Something else I didn’t like.
But this was the revised Operation, so I had no choice but to follow it through.
Even if I didn’t trust the soldiers around me to keep me alive.
Sergeant Jimenez had assigned me to this squad.
Had to wonder if he’d done so, knowing they were the worst of the group. Or if it had just been bad luck.
I figured he did it on purpose.
The squad leader was named Ricardo. He seemed a decent enough guy, the limited amount I’d talked with him. Zag had interacted more, most of it coming when I was logged out. I’d quickly skimmed the text logs when I’d gotten back into the game. We’d already been on the move through the city heading for the target.
There hadn’t been any experience gained, not surprising, but what had been a surprise was the new Operation. Or Sub-Operation.
Sub-Operation Launch Site Elimination
Mission Objectives:
1. Work with the Del Muertan army to destroy the Wyvern patrol launch site
Rewards:
1. 20 Operation Points
2. $2,000 Mission Pay + $3,000 Hazardous Duty Pay
The rewards were lower than normal. I didn’t understand why. Maybe it had something to do with it being a Del Muertan operation and not a Tactical Operations Group?
Pulling my thoughts back to the operation, I saw the end of the alley ahead. Two of the Del Muertans, including Ricardo, were already there. Bunched up pretty tight. The third soldier joined them.
Which prompted me to stop and hang back. I was ten feet away, ten feet closer than I felt comfortable.
“Move it,” the guy behind me said.
He spoke in a whisper. Still loud and shouldn’t have been speaking at all. I tried to ignore him, but he nudged me with the tip of his weapon.
Another stupid move.
“Get up there, you’re blocking us,” he said again. At least he hadn’t gotten any louder.
“Bunching up in a narrow opening isn’t smart,” I said.
“Move it,” he grumbled. This time he was a little louder.
I didn’t move.
He started to say something else but was drowned out by the gunfire and the explosions.
The force threw me back. Only so far because the three idiots that had been crowding me kept me from going farther. We all grunted, bodies pressed together.
I blinked rapidly, seeing flares and flashes in my night vision. With a thought, I shut them off, looking at the orange and reds of flames. Bullets hit the side of the alley, striking bricks, ricocheting off. There wasn’t much left of the alley. The corners of the buildings had been smashed, gaping holes in the walls. Fires spread inside, pieces of brick falling to the ground and onto the large pile already there.
The pile that was over the bodies or Private Ricardo and the other two. I could see one arm sticking out, blackened and not moving.
“What…” the grumbler said from the ground. “Get off,” he said, pushing at one of the other soldiers even though he was the one on top.
I crouched low, weapon on the opening. Bullets still struck what was left of the corners, hitting a little farther in. I didn’t know what had hit. RPG? Mortar?
But I was glad I’d stayed back.
The other three, even if they didn’t say anything, were probably glad I’d stayed back and kept them from going forward.
“Move,” I said, pointing the way we’d come.
None of them moved and now they were blocking my way.
“Move it.”
“What?” the first guy said again.
Sergeant Jimenez had stuck me with the bad squad.
“Never mind,” I muttered, pushing past him.
If they followed, good. If not, it was on them.
I retraced our steps, coming up to an intersection. Turning to the right, which was west, I ran toward the next cross of alleys, having to run past it as there was only a branch heading south. Not going to work for me.
The next one did.
I turned north, moving to the end.
This hadn’t been one that a Del Muertan squad had come down. It hadn’t attracted attention. Near the end I slowed, crouching low. Inch by inch I crept forward. Stopping at the corner, I risked leaning out.
I could see the flames from my old alley. They were spreading fast, a thick dark column of smoke drifting into the sky.
A wide street was in front of me. More buildings across. More alleys. The target was still a couple blocks away.
But somehow Wyvern had known we were coming.
I could see the squad. They were stationed between my new alley and the old, turning on the angle to face the other alley, laying down covering fire. I counted six Scales that I could see. One I IDed as a SAW. There was another that looked a little different.
Same size as the SAW, bigger. His armor was bulkier at the shoulders, a kind of frame across his chest. I saw the reason why when he shifted. There was a big missile launcher on his back. Two of them. Each was a tube that could probably be lowered to sit on the padded shoulder. One of the tubes was empty.
When I got back to FOB Gamma or Delta, I’d have to ask what this one was called.
For now I’d just call him a Missile Scale.
No wonder the alley had been destroyed. The range wasn’t great and that missile looked like it packed a punch.
I heard a noise behind me, turning quickly, rifle barrel pointing down the alley. With the night vision, I could see it was one of the Del Muertans. He had his hands up, stopping twenty feet away.
Lowering my weapon, I motioned him to stay.
Close enough now, I could recognize him. Not the one that had been directly behind me, complaining and now thankful I hadn’t listened. This guy had been in the rear. I couldn’t remember his name.
Moving toward him, I passed him, motioning him to follow.
Back at the intersection, after looking and making sure all directions were clear, disappointed I didn’t see the other Del Muertans, I turned to this one, talking in a whisper.
“What are you doing here?”
“Completing the mission,” he said.
I nodded. A young guy.
“The others?”
“Heading back toward base,” he replied, clearly angry. “Said without Ricardo, there were no orders and needed them.”
“Did they try comms?”
“Is jammed.”
Made sense. I hadn’t needed comms so hadn’t tried.
“What’s your name?”
“Garcia. Corporal.”
“You really want to Charlie Mike, Corporal Garcia?”
“Charlie Mike?”
“Continue mission?”
He glanced down the alley the way he’d come, wondering what the right decision was. Finally he turned to me, eyes determined, nodding.
“Okay, follow me, but stay back.”
He nodded, very emphatically, remembering the events of a couple minutes before.
I returned to the front of the alley, Garcia hanging back about ten feet. Adjusting the zoom on my glasses, I scanned the street. Besides the Wyvern position that had attacked my first alley, I could see two others. One past the first and another to the west, not that far away. I spent some time studying what I could see. I was looking for something. Specifically someone.
I found him in the western group.
Each of the three groups had a makeshift wall in front of them, taking most of the blunt from whatever counterattacks the surprised Del Muertans were mounting. They looked like three sheets of metal, a hinge between them. Apparently they were pretty strong.
This group was slightly different from the makeup of the other fireteams. Those had three Scales, a SAW, and what looked to be a Drake in charge. This western group had two Scales, a SAW, Drake, and my target. He had similar armor to the Scales’, but his helmet was different. It was thicker on the sides, and instead of the ridge down the back, it flared up. Kind of reminded me of an old-style antenna on vehicles back in the era of this game. He also wore a backpack, wires visibly running from the pack to his helmet. I wasn’t sure what the TOG designated him as, but he was obviously some kind of communications trooper. My guess was the backpack was the source of the jamming.
I looked at my HUD, seeing target markers for all the Scales I could see. The western one, the HUD was having a hard time designating them on the map. There was too much movement; it was getting confused. Without another set of eyes, with a TOG OpsComm, mine just couldn’t nail it down.
Which was fine.
Four or five. One more didn’t make that big a difference.
“How good of a shot are you?” I asked Garcia.
I could see different expressions cross his face. Bravado, wanting to impress me. Reality, how good he really was. Insecurity, he really wasn’t that good. He settled on reality, which is where I wanted him.
He seemed pretty young. Low-twenties, barely mid-twenties, if that old. A real FNG. But he had guts. More than the rest of his squad.
“I’m decent,” he said.
“Think you could hit one of them from up there?” I asked, pointing to the roof of the two-story structure.
Garcia looked up at the roof, across the street. He did whatever mental math he needed to and came up with an answer.
“I think so.”
“No think. You can either do it or you can’t.”
He nodded.
“I can do it.”
“Good. Take the Scale on the farthest left. One shot, one kill. Keep moving right.”
“Okay. When do I take the shot?”
“You’ll know,” I smiled. “Now, get up there.”
He walked away from me, heading back down the alley. There was a fire escape, or what was considered one in this part of the city. I’d given it a quick look over and wouldn’t trust it in the middle of a fire with dozens of feet running down it, but as long as Garcia made it up and down, it would serve its purpose. I gave him about ten minutes to get into position.
The firing had pretty much stopped. The Scales hadn’t moved from their positions, eyes scanning the street and surrounding area. No Del Muertans attacked. I didn’t know if they had retreated or all been taken out. I’d hoped they’d retreated.
Wasn’t sure how I wasn’t detected. Must have gotten lucky and found a blind spot in their overlapping fields of vision. Wouldn’t last long once I started shooting, so I had to make it count.
I was only going to get one, maybe two shots.
It was then that I realized I hadn’t told Garcia when to retreat.
That changed my plans slightly.
No way was I going to leave that kid up there alone.
Moving forward out of the alley as much as I dared, I tried to ignore the itch at the back of my neck. I knew there was the other position to my right. My angle kept me from seeing them, but so far they hadn’t seen me. I felt exposed to them.
Nothing I could do about it.
The main target was the comms guy.
I had him in my sights. Taking a deep breath, adjusting for his movements, I pulled the trigger.
The bullet was off, streaking across the street. I didn’t look to see if I’d hit, I was already moving to the next target. The Drake reacted pretty quickly. He’d been facing down the alley behind them, but turned as the comms backpack exploded. Sparks erupted, bright in the night, throwing glare across my sight. But I managed to focus and pull the trigger.
The Drake’s body arced as the shot took him in the head. He fell backwards.
There was another shot, coming from higher up. One of the Scales toppled. The others shifted, reacting. Another shot from above but no one fell.
Garcia’s first had been a good shot, but he wasn’t experienced enough to compensate for their movements.
I was.
The SAW Scale was raising his heavy weapon, pointing right at me. Hadn’t taken them long to figure out where the attack was coming from. Before he could pull his trigger, I’d pulled mine. He dropped hard, the weapon falling to the ground.
You have gained experience in Marksman Rank 1.
80% to next rank.
One of the Scales dropped, Garcia tagging him. The last one standing, he wasn’t a dummy. He dropped below the armor plating. Garcia was smart enough to not attempt a shot. I did hear his weapon go off. Not to our first targets but to the position to the east.
I ducked back into the alley as he fired off a couple more shots, keeping them pinned down.
This operation was totally fubared. F-ed up beyond repair. I needed to get out of here and plan my next move. Needed to get Garcia off the roof.
I ran for the end of the alley. Turning the corner, reaching for the fire escape, stepping onto the wood, I stopped. I could feel the thing shaking. Stepping back, I saw Garcia quickly making his way down.
At the bottom he came to a stop, not surprised to see me.
“Let’s go.”
He nodded, falling into position behind me. We took off down the alleys, able to move fast as we’d already been this way.
“You got comms back?”
“Yes sir,” Garcia answered. There was a moment of just our heavy breathing before I heard a simple “oh.” I’d hoped he’d realized what I wanted. “Private Garcia to Command, come in, Command.”
I couldn’t hear what was being said to him. He was smart, though, only relaying the important information.
“Team ambushed en route to target. Enemy had reinforced positions and jamming. Sergeant Ramirez and half the team KIA. Other half, location unknown.”
“Yes, with the Knight. We took out the jamming.”
“Copy that.”
I came to a stop, a little winded. Looking at my map, we’d gone a couple of blocks. Far enough for now, but couldn’t stop for long. Garcia had been struggling for breath when talking with his command. Not used to running and talking. This was probably the most he’d talked on comms to command.
Thankful for the stop, he leaned against the side of a building, the wood flexing under him. I looked up at the one-story structure, afraid it was going to fall down. Garcia worked to catch his breath.
“The major wants us to meet up with the rest of the team. They are regrouping at an abandoned club.”
“You know where to find it?”
Garcia looked around, glancing at the nearest end of an alley. He walked that way, I followed. Not stepping out, just close enough to get a couple of landmarks, he turned back to me.
“It’s two blocks that way,” he said, pointing across the street before us. “A little to the north.”
“Lead on.”
I wasn’t sure why I was still going through with this. The Del Muertans had already shown they weren’t that good. Ditching their own teammates was bad enough, but getting into that ambush showed a complete lack of tactics. Major Tomas had seemed to know what he was doing. Had Sergeant Jimenez really wanted to screw me that badly?
That didn’t make sense. No one was that petty, to put the lives of their men at risk just because I’d asked questions they should have.
There hadn’t been an Operation failed notification, which meant there was still a chance to finish the Operation. How, was the question. Wyvern was on alert now and had been. Those positions weren’t thrown up in minutes; they did take some time to set.
They either knew we were coming or had been there for a while.
I was leaning toward they’d been there.
Just part of the launch site’s security.
Maybe it couldn’t have been anticipated. Still didn’t let the Del Muertans off the hook.
It hadn’t been just my squad that had been ambushed. There had been others.
We crossed the street, one at a time, providing cover. It was dark, empty. The streetlights had been shot out. By whom, didn’t know and didn’t care at the moment. Garcia led us into another alley. As we ran, I scanned through my log, looking to see if I’d missed anything from Lowdown or Mustang during the jamming. Nothing. They weren’t even appearing on my map anymore.
