She fired off two more shots herself. The struggling Twelve was preventing her from being able to take careful aim, but she did graze Eleven’s bicep with one, and the man shrieked in pain, the hot round exploding as it glanced off bone. Twelve flailed again, and this time succeeded in knocking the pistol from her hand, sending it flying through the air. In frustration, she cocked her leg and her foot shot out in a blur, like a rattlesnake striking. It connected with Twelve’s jaw and there was a loud pop. The bounty hunter wailed in pain, forgetting all about the fight now. The pain of his broken jaw now superseded everything, as he activated his Dr. Feelgood.
Her own weapon now ten feet away, she grabbed for Twelve’s pulse rifle, firing it wildly. It was hard to take aim with it still slung over the man’s shoulder. Calming herself, she slid over behind the fallen man, and using him now as a breastwork, she squeezed off another shot, once more hitting him high in the chest plate of his vest. Again, it did little, save for knocking him back a few steps.
It was the next shot that would count. It hit him square in the mouth. His tactical mask hid the look of complete and utter shock as he went rigid, every muscle in his body contracting tightly. He felt as if it were about to rip apart from the inside out, the unbearable pain helping push him into unconsciousness. His finger squeezed down on the trigger of his rifle as his arm muscles clinched tight, drawing up the barrel of his rifle, sending a bolt of white pulse energy harmlessly skyward. Just before tendons ripped from bone, Six’s body went limp as he lapsed into unconsciousness and crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
It was only then that she realized she had been holding her breath. Letting out a long, appreciative sigh of relief, she allowed herself a few seconds for her heart rate to slow. Beside her, the merc groaned again and mumbled an obscenity at her through his mangled mouth. It was only then that she felt any twinge of compassion for him. No need to let him lay there and suffer. Rising to one knee, she pulled the pulse rifle’s sling out from around his neck. Turning the gun around, she put it to his neck and pulled the trigger with no hesitation, stunning him into merciful unconsciousness.
“What the fuck!” She could hear someone shouting through the man’s headset that fell off during the struggle. Coming from the ship, no doubt. It was time to deal with that.
She hoped Tiger hadn’t missed her yet.
***
“What the fuck!” Three blurted out, as he grabbed his pulse rifle and stuck it out the main hatch, peering through the darkness with his night scope. “What’s happening? Report!”
Right after the two men had entered the trees, he’d heard abrupt shouts, followed by the sounds of a struggle, grunts and cries of pain and then bursts of pulse rifle fire lit the night. Somebody had been waiting on them. Somebody had ambushed the extraction team.
“What the hell just happe—”
He never finished the sentence, as something suddenly grabbed the barrel of his gun and pulled it violently forward. Unlike Twelve, it wasn’t slung over his shoulder. Yet, his instinct was to do everything in his power to maintain his grip on his weapon. This caught him off-balance and he lurched forward. At the same time, the butt of the rifle’s stock was suddenly coming back at him. It hit him square in the nose. He screamed in rage and agony as the sound of cartilage giving way sounding like a gunshot in his ears. Blood and mucus spewed forth in slimy, thick gushes. Before he could even react, hands were grasping at either arm opening of his tac-vest. Suddenly, he was flying out of the hatch, through the air, head over heels before landing some twenty feet away on his back.
“Mmmmpphh!” Three felt all breath leave him with the impact. For a moment, he was afraid to move, fearing his back was broken. He also was hoping his attacker might think him dead if he played possum and leave him be. He wanted no more of it. Whatever had gotten ahold of him had to have been huge, a hulking, monstrous Goliath.
Having been inside the HC, he didn’t have on any NV equipment now that he’d lost his pulse rifle. Thus, he was dumbfounded when the dark silhouette of a small figure appeared above him. Against the stars of the night sky, he instantly made out the feminine figure. But it was the pointed canine ears and the plume of a big, bushy tail against the night sky that struck cold fear into his heart.
The asset! It’s her! He never gave it much thought before, since he hadn’t been involved in the firefight at the Spaceport Inn. He’d never wondered exactly what she was wanted for. Had she turned on some folks, her masters perhaps, and killed innocent humans? Was she a “Frankenstein” … the slang word for a well-meaning experiment gone bad. Whatever she was, she was one badass bitch and she had just kicked his ass.
He would still be wondering about her when she fired and the night turned painfully darker.
***
Nine had almost shit himself when Three disappeared out the hatch.
“Three!” he roared, “Goddamn it, talk to me!” His only reply had been a muffled cry of pain. When he heard and saw the flash of the pulse rifle just outside the window, he suddenly realized he was all alone in the darkness with an unseen adversary who, in a matter of minutes, had seemed to have taken out three of his comrades. Fighting back panic, he began cycling the engines back up immediately. Fuck them crackers! They’re
