Two synth-ropes unravel from the top of the wall, and Winters covers the parapet steps that lead down into the temple’s outer compound as my team begins to climb their way up to the top. First Easy, then Lana, and finally Lash who, despite his size, gets moving up the wall like a hellcat climbing a Togus palm.
“Alpha One, this is Bravo One. We have secured the wall and are en route to Bravo Target Two, how copy?”
“Roger,” Hopper replies, and he sounds a little winded. “Running into more resistance than we thought—nothing we can’t handle.”
This surprises me a bit, because I haven’t heard any noise at all coming from inside. No sounding of the alarm and certainly no blaster fire.
“You need support?” I ask.
“Negative. Nothing like that. Just… complications. I’m on comms with Surber to get things cleared up. Over.”
I leave Hopper to do whatever it is he’s doing within the columns that surround Alpha Target Two, and free climb the rope to join my team at the top.
“How’s your climb, Abers?” I ask. The sniper is supposed to be moving to higher ground—the top of the hill—in an attempt to better support us on the other side of the walls if the need arises. He’ll have to switch to full power to be effective at that range, but if we run into trouble inside, the need for stealth will be out the window.
“It’s a short trip to the top, Carter,” Abers huffs. “Arms are tired from holding my rifle more than my legs. This hill ain’t no thing.”
“Copy. Bravo One out.”
That’s the last time I intend to speak out loud until I absolutely have to. You get used to talking in the Legion all throughout an op. Your bucket hides your voice from any hostiles, and the L-comm has never been cracked as best I know. But here, that isn’t happening. Other than Winters, no one has a full-body suit or an enclosed helmet. Those are expensive, and while Big Nee supplies a lot of goodies, it’s up to us to buy anything above and beyond… and if we had the credits to spare for something like that, well, why would we even be here?
I tell the team that I want Easy on point with Lana trailing me and Lash pulling up the rear as we move down the steps of the parapets and into the outer compound courtyard. I step over one of the dead zhee and peer over the edge. It’s empty, just as the bot represented. I’m not surprised. It’s a pretty chilly night, and whatever zhee are here likely opted to stay indoors where the revelry took place.
We stream down the staircase and then flow through the shadows cast by the high walls, moving with purpose toward Bravo Target Two—a sort of barracks for lack of a better word. It’s where all the zhee warriors living in the temple compound sleep. I have no idea how many of them stumbled back to their beds, but our objective is to eliminate any warriors we find.
I can see the IR lights attached to my team’s weapons bouncing as we move, sweeping the compound for targets that aren’t present. They begin to concentrate on our point of entry—a slick impervisteel reinforced door with a nice high-tech lock. It seems out of place on a compound that otherwise looks ancient, even though the zhee only built it perhaps three years prior. Everything is stone and wood. Dusty and dry from the Kublaren heat and moisture-wicking dust that constantly blows along the hard pan.
Lana hustles to the door, grabbing a slicer box from its place inside one of her med bags. She’s not a tech per se, but these military-grade boxes are pretty much foolproof. Even I could use them. The box attaches to the lock’s access panel and makes a direct interface with the lock/alarm system. It’s then a battle of two programmed wills as the box seeks to exploit and override whatever security is in place and the door does its best to stay closed until it’s convinced it really should swing open.
Expensive door locks can be set to trigger an immediate alarm as soon as something like this begins stomping in its yard, but we’re not worried about that for a couple of reasons. The first is that Big Nee definitely can outspend these donks. He’s giving us Dark Ops tech, make no mistake. The second is that even when that level of tech is in place, it isn’t long before it gets shut off. A few clumsy attempts by people who are authorized to enter sets the hairpin trigger off and puts the base or compound on lockdown and then someone in the decision-making chain decides that all the false alarms just aren’t worth it and they disengage the security layer.
Humanoid nature.
It takes all of fifteen seconds for the slicer box to work its magic and flash green with an audible click of the door’s locking mechanism disengaging. Lana tries the handle, modified slightly for the zhee’s hoof-like claws to manipulate, and then pushes the door in just a few centimeters or so.
“Go,” she mouths, nodding her head and moving to the side of the door so there’s no mistake: It’s time for us to storm this castle.
We debated this part quite a bit back in the sled. Everyone should be passed out drunk, and tossing in bangers is sure to wake up at least a few donks in this compound. At the very least alert the guards still up by the front gate. In the end, we decided to keep the noise down until we neutralized our respective Target Twos.
I take the lead position, my silenced rifle sweeping in the darkness with Winters right behind me and
