She was in there somewhere, and all of a sudden the four platforms that comprised the structure seemed rather vast, whereas moments before the target felt small and manageable. Now it was a labyrinth of stairwells, heavy machinery, and hostiles.
Perhaps she thought the shooting would be over one way or the other before he found out, for surely she could not have been so callous as to not care. Sparing his sensibilities the distraction and worry of his wife in harm’s way was more likely, Samuel thought to himself, at once angry with his wife and ingratiated to her for the concern over his own ability to focus upon the task at hand. The universe had always been hard on the Hyst family, and it appeared that today was no different than any other.
“Garn, get these mosquitoes off my back!” growled Narek. The sporadic gunfire coming from the compound increased as the rover drew near, and the gunner nodded as he took aim. “Corin I want you to jump that first barricade, the rover can take it, then we’re bounding from there, boys.”
“Copy,” said Samuel, his voice more steady than he felt, and his word was echoed by the other mercs just before Garn’s machine gun roared behind them, drowning out all other sounds.
As the rover neared the compound, Garn’s cone of fire washed over the ground floor, and this time the carnage was not hidden by bursts of stone and wood. Men and women in orange jumpsuits scattered as many of them were cut down by the hurricane of small caliber rounds. Sparks flew in showers as the gunner unleashed sustained fire, moving his weapon side to side to hose down a full one hundred and eighty-degree field of fire. The rover was almost to the base of the compound, and in the last seconds before they jumped the barricade Garn angled his weapon up and managed to spray several bursts of deadly projectiles into the second platform.
Corin earned his rate as he gave the rover a burst of power at the last second and clamped down on the brakes of the back two all-terrain tires. The maneuver shot the nose of the rover upwards and the momentum of the vehicle carried it over the prefab railing barricade of the compound. The thin metal of the barricade was meant to keep out dust, debris, and unwanted local fauna more than it was a high-speed armored vehicle, and it shrieked as it crumpled under the weight of the rover. Corin released the brakes and gave it more power, which kicked the back up and finished carrying the vehicle through and over the barricade.
Samuel had done his best not to notice the body of the staffer in orange that the rover plowed over. Hopefully, the man was already dead from one of Garn’s bullets before the vehicle hit him. Once inside the compound he could see just how much damage the outlawed Fenrir weapon had done, and he understood why it had been so perfect for urban combat. The small caliber rounds were plenty capable of tearing through the unarmored bodies of the mining staff and yet did not possess the power or penetration capacity to do much if any, damage to the compound itself. All around them were the dying and the wounded, and Samuel realized there were far more than twenty people staffing this compound.
Garn had not actually killed very many people, though there were many wounded casualties scampering through the platform, fleeing in all directions from the merc squad suddenly in their midst. Narek wasted no time in disembarking. As soon as his boots hit the deck he’d already put a hot round through the back of a fleeing worker.
Samuel leaped out of the vehicle and was about to protest the shooting of unarmed people beyond what was necessary when several rounds peppered him, Narek, and the rover from the stairwell.
The marine’s instincts took over, and before he realized what he was doing he took a knee and punched three tightly clustered rounds through the chest of a man wielding a pistol.
What hope the man thought he had of stopping such men as they Samuel could not fathom, though in the heat of battle strange things happened. Samuel stood and pushed inwards, heading towards the stairwell as he swept his rifle across the cowering forms of two other staffers. He’d seen cor-sec officers engage with pistols and shotguns against heavily armed gangers in the downspire of Vorhold. Having a weapon in hand made a person feel powerful, perhaps even invincible, especially if they were inexperienced with truly horrific combat. Shooting targets and unarmed civilians, perhaps the occasional poorly armed red lister, gave you no functional awareness of how pitifully outclassed you might be when faced with true killers.
Samuel raced up the stairs, eager to finish this fight and find his wife, especially if she was somewhere above and now rather likely engaged in her own contest of life and death. Jayce fell in behind him, the younger merc coldly executing two wounded staffers with his auto-pistol as he rushed to catch up with the marine.
Samuel nearly turned and shot Jayce himself, but focused on the task at hand. It had become painfully clear that none of the other mercs had any interest in the complexities and inconvenience of taking prisoners, as Samuel could hear the all-to-familiar report of Narek’s Helion rifle spitting hot rounds into anyone he caught sight of. Garn and Michael were not far behind Jayce, with Corin and Narek bringing up the rear.
It was not lost on Samuel that despite Narek being the first off the Rover and into combat, he’d deftly positioned himself at the rear of the squad, while Samuel, in his haste, had become the tip of the spear. The marine shook off his frustration with the mercs and pulled his rifle tight into his shoulder. There would be time to balance accounts and redress offenses after he’d found his wife and they’d secured this damned compound.
Samuel emerged from the stairwell ready for battle, and instantly his iron sights were filled with targets. A man leaped into view and swung a blowtorch at Samuel, only to be stopped short and thrown backward by two tightly controlled bursts from the marine. Without pausing, Samuel kept running and twisted to the right so that he could punch several rounds through the groin and thigh of another pistol wielding security staffer, the man’s chest armor doing him little good. The other mercs fanned out behind Samuel as the gunfire intensified.
Hard rounds slammed into the marine and he was knocked to the ground. His armor held, but he was temporarily shaken. From his vantage point on the ground, Samuel could see two rival mercs counter-attacking those from the Rig. Both of them were in full combat armor that looked to be of a decent make and carrying combat assault rifles with extended magazines. They poured on the fire, and suddenly a heavy weight fell on top of Samuel just as he was trying to get up.
Michael had been filled with holes, his affordable but flimsy patchwork suit of armor having done nothing to save him from the hail of bullets coming from the rival mercs. Jayce had sprinted to the right, disappearing into the maze of heavy support equipment for the drill mechanism on the platform above. Garn had taken cover behind a support strut, his empty machine gun discarded back in the rover and hands now filled with a stubby sub-machine gun that Samuel suspected had little hope of penetrating the enemy’s armor.
“Draw them out, marine, I’m on the stairs,” came the gravelly voice of Narek in Samuel’s comm-bead, the order firm, and Samuel, ever the soldier, reacted just as much with the conditioning of a long military career as he did with conscious intent.
Samuel scampered left, after Jayce, but as he got to his feet he bracketed the two armored mercs with fire from his combat rifle. The Grotto rifle was a workhorse of a weapon, so while it did not quite have the penetration capacity to foil the enemy armor, it had plenty of knock-down power. One of the rival mercs stopped firing and evaded, disappearing behind one of the pieces of heavy machinery. The other staggered as he was hit, each round sending him further backward until suddenly he stepped into Narek’s field of fire.