Mercenaries’ Tale – 3.03 The Turn
The Dark Worlder removed the blade from Doug’s midsection and allowed the mercenary to fall to his knees.
“Now, sevraq, that wasn’t so bad, was-” a ball of flame impacted his face and knocked him back a step. The large man flailed at his head in a bid to stamp out the flames as he became aware of the two newcomers, just in time for another two blasts to slam into his chest and drive him back further, away from Doug. The Dark Worlder roared in anger and focused his attention on his new antagonist. A flame-haired human and the Lusininan’s fire mage stood in the entrance to the room. The human looked livid, her focus being on the man bleeding out on the floor. The mage was channelling energy for another attack.
“Farnxl yvggyr ohttref! Don’t think for a second those tiny attacks can hurt me!” The big man warned.
“I was merely getting your attention,” Gratin replied. He clapped his hands then thrust them forwards so his palms were facing his foe. A jet of flame burst forth from them and rushed forward to crash into the Big Man with enough concussive force to fling him across the room and through the opposite wall. There was an explosion, the room beyond catching fire. Gratin stood guard, keeping his senses attuned for any signs of survival. Blaise, however, had other priorities.
She ran forward and skidded to a halt on her knees next to Doug, immediately checking the damage. It didn’t look like the blade had penetrated anything important but the resulting gash was sizeable and Doug was losing a lot of blood. She set to work attempting to patch him up, removing her coat and a small first aid kit she kept for such emergencies.
“Stay with me Doug! You have got to stop scaring me like this!” She scolded as she worked. Doug groaned as he turned his head to peer at her, his eyes struggling to focus.
“…Angel? You came back for me…” he muttered. Blaise smiled sadly at him as she finished sewing him back up.
“Of course I did, you idiot,” she replied. She moved so that he could get a better look at her. Doug chuckled, wheezing in pain as a result.
“…You must hate me for this,” Blaise shook her head at him.
“No, I’m bloody annoyed at you but I don’t think I could ever hate you. Not completely,” she assured him. Doug gave her a lopsided grin and reached up to caress her face. She didn’t move as his finger brushed her cheek. The grin slowly turned to a frown as he finally managed to force his eyes to focus.
“…Blaise?” he sounded confused.
“Yes…?” she asked, concerned. He sighed and pulled his hand away, attempting to move away from her. His wound seared with pain at the motion.
“Argh…why’d you follow me?” He sounded as though he was coming to his senses now. Blaise watched him carefully.
“I wasn’t about to let you run off and get yourself killed,” she told him. He glared at the floor, avoiding eye contact with her.
“I thought you wanted to bugger off…thought I was just a sodding waste to you,”
“I’m sorry,” Doug turned to stare at her, taking in her sombre expression.
“I was frustrated and said some things I didn’t mean. Even so, I think you owe me an explanation,” she continued.
“You wouldn’t understand. You never had to watch some maniac slaughter your family in front of you…” Doug replied quietly, turning his gaze onto the floor once more.
“Salmanic killed my whole family,” that caught him off guard.
“Arson attack. My home burnt down with my family still trapped inside,” Her fists were tightly clenched on her lap, “my father, my annoying big brothers, our family pets…none of them escaped,” her voice was beginning to crack and she was only barely managing to not cry, “they got all the buildings. The house, the garage, the stables. I can still hear the horses as they were roasted alive,” she was shaking now, her eyes closed as the tears began to well, “I was about eleven, nearly twelve. Couldn’t do a damn thing to save them,” she opened her eyes and scowled at Doug, who was watching her with his mouth agape in shock over what he was hearing.
“So don’t you ever, ever, assume that I wouldn’t understand your pain.”
“Faust, Blaise, I had no idea…” was Doug’s response, the merc staring at her wide eyed. He knew Blaise had a difficult past but he hadn’t expected that. It made sense though; the aversion to fire, the distrust of strangers, how difficult it was to get close enough to her to be considered a friend. All of it made sense.
“…It’s not exactly something I advertise…” She averted her gaze from him and turned away. She was shaking like a leaf, something she tried to hide by wrapping her arms around herself, willing herself to calm down. Doug watched her carefully, a million different thoughts and questions bouncing around inside his head. Through the muddle, he found himself chuckling.
“I’m such a self centred idiot,” he proclaimed, “anyone with half a brain would’ve seen how upset all of this was making you and would’ve realised you’d had run ins with Salmanic in the past. Not me though. I was too busy wrestling with my own shit to think for a moment that you had some of your own to work with,” he attempted to shift his position so that he could approach her only to grunt in pain from the strain as his wound began to protest. Blaise glanced over her shoulder towards him at the sound.
“Try not to move too much. You’ll pull your stitches if you’re not careful,” she instructed, turning back towards him. She moved to help him only for Doug to grasp her hand with his human one and hold her still. He stared her directly in the eyes as he spoke, a smile fixed on his face.
“It’s funny in a way. My Mum always used to say that family was what you made of it. She lost her parents fairly young. Grandad died in the PSF and Gran died of the same sickness that eventually killed Mum, it being a genetic thing. Any other family Mum had back when she lost her parents weren’t exactly rushing to help her with her debts so she would’ve been on her own if it weren’t for her friends. Mum used to say family was anyone willing to stick with you when life turned hard and you needed someone to help you up. It’s because of that I have a whole mess of Aunts that I’m not even related too; they were just close to my Mum so that made them family,” he chuckled again. His eyes were watering but the smile stayed firmly in place. It was an odd contrast, his eyes betraying how upsetting the memories really were for him but Doug was determined to keep the appearance of being the same old Doug as he shifted through them. It was as though “Doug McCraken is a jolly bastard” was a universal constant he had a duty to uphold.
“The same thing happened to me in the PSF. Everybody felt like family there. So long as you were a member, they would look after you as one of their own. My squad mates weren’t just mates, they were brothers.”
“I think I know what you mean. I’ve had similar experiences…” Blaise muttered, failing to elaborate. Doug nodded.
“Annie mentioned something like that. I shoulda twigged then that you might’ve actually understood what I was going through. When I lost them…When my mates were all killed…” he had to pause to take a deep breath, his stomach knotting up from the memories. Blaise managed to readjust her hands so that she could give Doug’s a squeeze in reassurance.
“I know…” she whispered.
“It was just supposed to be a recon mission. Some planets that pay for PSF protection were getting worried about this warlord gathering weaponry and an army on the edge of their solar system. They wanted the PSF to intervene so my squad was sent in to see what was up. Only the warlord, Kraken, had received a tip-off. We were ambushed and brought to him. He tortured us, killing us off one by one. I had to watch them tear apart my mates…” the tears were flowing freely now. Blaise moved forward and wrapped him in a hug. He tentatively raised his arms to envelope her, holding her tight.
“You don’t have to go on if you don’t want to. I-I know how painful this must be-” stammered Blaise.
“No, you were right. I do owe you. I’ve dragged you out here, to the people that fucked up your life. You might as well know the full story of how they fucked up mine,” he grimaced, took a deep breath and plunged on.
“I was chained up by my arm. Had to hack through the bone to get free. I barely remember doing it now; I was just seeing red. I was berserk. Made Kraken pay for what he did. It wasn’t until everything went quiet and I was lying in a pool of my own blood that I noticed a lot of the crates littering Kraken’s base had the Salmanic logo stamped across it…”
“…You mean-?”
“Salmanic had been subsidising Kraken’s operation or something. There was a cover up. A bunch of suits turned up and took away all the evidence before the PSF had a chance to properly investigate. I quit soon after and did a bit of poking around on my own. Didn’t have to turn over many rocks before I found out Salmanic were the ones that tipped off Kraken in the first place. It’s their fault my mates were killed…” he let out a sob. Blaise stroked the back of his head, allowing him to let out all of the pent up emotion he was carrying.
“And that’s why you wanted to come out here, is it? To find a way to get back at them?” she asked. Doug nodded his head, which remained buried in her shoulder.
“Thought if we impressed Silverton Salmanic enough, we might be able to get close enough for me to rip his head off. That’d teach him for treating people like play things,” he muttered.
“I used to have similar fantasies,” said Blaise, her voice quiet, “but I doubt we’d ever have managed to get that close to him.”
“Had to try. The anniversary’s coming up and I made my mates a promise I’d get back at Salmanic for what happened to them. Couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by…”
“Then let’s make the most of it,” Doug raised his head to stare at her, surprised.
“You’re gonna help me? After everything I’ve put you through?” he asked. Blaise smiled at him, tears leaking from her own eyes.
“Family’s anyone willing to stick with you when things get hard, right? Well that’s us. Salmanic killed my Dad. I think they have it coming,” Doug let out a laugh and beamed down at her, their eyes locked together. It was as if they were looking at one another for the first time. The walls were down, the shroud of lies and secrets abandoned for the time being. It was just them, two lost souls against the world and willing to risk it all for one another.
Without thinking, Doug lent in towards Blaise, Blaise staying perfectly still, her eyes closing as he did so. Their noses brushed against each other, their breath caressing each other’s lips as the gap began to close…
The sound of rubble being pushed aside made Doug freeze. A hunk of wall hit the floor and the spell broke, the mercs turning to see the giant of a Dark Worlder heaving himself back through the hole in the wall, his uniform now ripped, torn and singed. He caught sight of them, glanced at Gratin who was standing ready for a fight, his arms wreathed in flames, then back at the two embracing humans and began to laugh. Doug rearranged himself so that he was in front of Blaise, acting as a human shield in case the Dark Worlder decided to charge. Blaise grabbed a pistol and inserted a fresh clip.
“What’s so funny, arsewipe?” Doug asked.
“Hahaha, nothing to concern yourself with, sevraq. I did not think I would find a small piece of beauty in this evil place. It is funny, see?” said the brute, continuing his laughter. The two humans exchanged a confused glance before returning their attention to the Dark Worlder.
“Do you know why I am here, sevraq?” he was asking, his posture relaxed as he lent against the edge of the hole he had just climbed through. Doug shrugged, doing his best to ignore the searing pain of his stab wound.
“Aside from trying to fuck things up as much as possible?” he guessed. The Dark Worlder laughed again.
“Haha no, that is not the only reason. My wife was taken from me. She was a fire mage, passionate and kind. She made the best cnfgevrf in town. I loved her with all my heart and now she is lost,” the Dark Worlder ceased his laughing, his features becoming forlorn.
“Sorry to hear that, mate, but that’s got nothing to do with us, right? Everyone’s lost something to the war but what you’ve been doing’s hurtin’ a bunch of innocent people that’s got nothing to do with the war effort,” Doug replied. The Dark Worlder stared at Doug, the atmosphere tensing up.
“Vqvbg. You have no idea what is happening here, do you?”
“Guess not but I don’t much care, either. I’ve got a job to do and you’ve pissed me off.”
“Ha! You are injured! You can barely stand! You should take your woman and leave this evil place. Enjoy your life while you are able,” the Dark Worlder told him. Doug glanced down at Blaise. She nodded at him.
“I’m with you,” she assured him. Doug grinned and turned his attention back onto the brute on the other side of the room.
“Can’t do that, pal. We’re professionals, gotta see this job through to the end,” he announced.
“Then you will die.”
“Bring it.”
The Big man surveyed the three mercenaries and began to chuckle again, shaking his head and slapping his thigh. In one lightning fast motion, he threw an arm up towards Gratin and unleashed the concealed throwing knife he had been holding, flinging it at the mage’s head. Gratin dodged left and catapulted a fireball in the Big Man’s direction but the Dark Worlder was already on the move, charging towards Doug. McCracken braced himself but Blaise calmly stepped around him, her pistol rising smoothly into place as she fired three shots into the Dark Worlder’s chest. The first one was barely felt, the second one stung and the third caused the man to stagger off course, blood beginning to weep from the entry wound. The Big Man barely had time to plot out a new course of action, the second fire blast Gratin had been holding slamming into his side and lifting him off his feet, sending him sprawling across the floor.
A thought occurred to Doug as he observed, half remembering something that had happened during his rampage.
“He knows how to enchant himself; he can make himself stronger. Bet he hasn’t got long left ‘til he’ll need to recast it though,” Doug informed his comrades as he eyed their enemy. The Big Man’s muscle mass had shrunk somewhat during their scuffle. It had not returned back to its normal size just yet but it wasn’t far off.
“That’ll explain why the first bullet didn’t put him down then,” Blaise replied as she drew her second pistol and trained it on their opponent. He was still moving, the Big Man wrapping his hand around a chunk of wall debris which he then hurled at Blaise. The redhead bobbed out of the way, Doug following suit only to fall to his knees as his injury flared up. The Big Man leapt to his feet and charged once more, hoping to get his hands on Doug in a bid to use him as a bargaining chip. His plans were scuppered when a wall of flame shot up from the floor, blocking him off from his target. Blaise then opened fire on the Big Man, the Dark Worlder diving aside to avoid being peppered with bullets. Blaise readjusted her aim, focusing on the retreating man’s calf muscles. The man was mildly bullet proof but that protection weakened under sustained fire. Four shots to the same spot saw his tendons obliterated, his lower leg exploding in a cloud of blood and sinew.
The Big Man screamed in agony as gravity brought him tumbling to the floor. Through the intense pain, he reached for another knife to throw in a last ditch effort to do away with at least one of his enemies. Gratin had other ideas, the wall of flame crashing down on top of the Big Man like a tsunami with a wave of his arm. The Big Man raised his arms in an attempt to protect himself but it did little to stop the intense heat from frying him to a crisp. All that was left when the flames subsided was a burnt out husk.
Blaise holstered her weapons and went straight back to Doug’s side, helping him to his feet. Doug did not resist, leaning on her for support as walking under his own power proved to be painful. He grunted as his wound protested at the movement, wincing.
“I ain’t gonna be much good like this. Don’t think these stitches are gonna last long either…” he grimaced. Blaise put on a brave face, holding his hand and giving it a squeeze.
“We’re nearly done here. Two more to go and we can get you patched up properly,” Doug nodded in reply and the two began making their way towards the door, Gratin leading the way out into the corridor and towards where he could sense the others.
The corridors all connected together in a big loop ending in a modest staffroom. From what Gratin could feel, the remaining terrorists had rendezvoused in the staffroom and were now pinned down in there, hiding behind upturned tables and chairs. The other mercenaries were positioned at each of the two entrances to the room; Harper, Parkinson and Tupper to the west and Annie and Thad to the east. The Squat Dark Worlder with all his vials and chemicals had attempted to ward off Harper’s group by throwing some manner of incendiary device at them, that corner of the room now alight with a coating of napalm. The Captain, having decided that this dire situation called for a different approach, had retrieved his machine gun from his back and was laying down suppressing fire to keep Thad and Annie at bay. Thad had also decided firearms were more appropriate in this situation and had retrieved his own semi-automatic pistol from his vest. The Gentleman was taking pot shots whenever The Captain needed to reload but was otherwise hanging back due to the Squat Man also being armed with a pistol of his own.
Gratin relayed this information as they approached from the west, Harper and the boys coming into view, outlined by the burning napalm in the room beyond. Harper was first to notice their approach, alarmed at seeing Doug’s sorry state.
“Faustus, what happened to you?” exclaimed the scouse, attracting the boys’ attention. Doug waved off her concerns with a joke.
“I’m gold, you should see the other guy. You guys need a hand?”
“If you got one to spare, sure. Kinda at a stalemate here,” Parkinson informed them with his usual irritated demeanour. Doug and Blaise turned their attention onto Gratin, who began to levitate in preparation.
“How’s your energy reserves doing?” inquired Blaise, aware that her friend had been using a lot of magic of various levels of strength throughout the night. A smile tugged on the mage’s features.
“Do not worry, Mistress, I have a little in me yet before I will need to refuel,” he turned his attention onto the scene in front of him, the others backing up to give him room. Gratin slowly raised an arm as he floated towards the entryway, the flames bending towards him as though being sucked from the room, a vortex forming as they were drawn towards Gratin’s arm, wreathing it in flame.
The doorway now free of burning obstacles, Gratin entered the room. The Squat Man saw his approach, yelping in surprise and unloading his pistol at the new comer. The bullets pinged harmlessly off of Gratin’s shield, the mage pointing his blazing arm at the alchemist and letting loose the flames he had collected onto the little Dark Worlder, the fire slamming into him and lifting him into the wall, the Squat Man screaming all the while.
This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by The Captain who whirled around to lay eyes on the floating demon wreathed in emerald flame that was burning his demolition expert alive. He scrambled backwards, falling over himself and out of view of Thad – the Gentleman not shooting only because it isn’t everyday you come across a scene such as this one – and began to fire at the infernal visage before him. Gratin’s response was merely to flick his wrist towards The Captain, the flames following the motion and tossing the burning carcass of the Alchemist into its superior officer.
As the screams and flames began to die down, the others began to poke their heads into the room, surveying the damage.
“Is that it? It’s over?” Annie asked apprehensively from her position behind Thad. The others began to enter, Doug and Blaise leading the way. Doug settled down on one of the only unbroken chairs in the room.
“I count six dead, so yeah. Guess so,” he fished his cigarettes out of his jacket and lit one up, “what now?”
“We phone it in and call it a night? I don’t know about you guys but I could sleep for a week at this point,” said Thad, holstering his pistol and straightening his outfit up by dusting himself down and readjusting his collar in a bid to look more presentable. Harper fished something out of one of her pockets.
“I’m on it,” she informed them, the object in her hand being a digibook. She wandered back out into the corridor to make the call, the others taking a moment to have a breather. Tupper rummaged through a damaged vending machine that dominated the back wall, handing out snacks to the group. It was a welcome break from the night’s work, the group idly chatting until Harper re-entered the room to inform them that a clean up crew were en-route to deal with the mess.
Blaise stayed close to Doug throughout, hovering besides him in case he needed her. Gratin couldn’t help but note that Doug seemed glad of her company now, the soldier holding the gun slinger’s hand rather than shooing her away as he had done previously when she had fussed over him. For now they were content to be in each other’s company.
Gently stroking the back of Blaise’s hand with his thumb, Doug glanced up at his companion.
“Are we… gonna have a talk when we get back? About… you know, everything…?” he trailed off as Blaise stared at him quizzically, Doug seeming nervous at the mention of what had caused them to fight in the first place.
“…Do you trust me to keep my promises now?” she didn’t sound mad, just curious. Doug took his hand away and began to rub his neck.
“Look, Red, I dunno what to say-”
“Yes,” she cut him off before he could ramble for too long, Blaise carefully picking some plaster out of her colleague’s hair as a display of affection, “as soon as we’re safely alone in whatever safe house we claim, I will tell you everything you want to know. I promise,” this appeased Doug, the soldier nodding and allowing her to dust him off. His gaze was fixed on his shoes, a flicker of a smile across his face that swiftly turned into a more pensive look.
“…I am sorry though. I’ve been kinda… it’s been hard to keep my temper in check…” he muttered.
“I had noticed,” she uttered softly, her hand settling on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Doug reached up and clasped his human hand around it, holding it in place.
“I kinda throttled Thad a bit when we had that talk. Probably should apologise for that…” he admitted, glancing in The Gentleman’s direction. Thad was enveloping Annie from behind as she animatedly told Parkinson some manner of story that vaguely sounded like her encounter with the larger Dark Worlder only far more action packed.
Blaise considered this for a moment, staring off into space.
“Hmm. I suppose a good person would encourage you to do that…” said the red head thoughtfully. There was a beat, Doug glancing up at his friend as he waited for a reprimand that never came. Once realising that he wasn’t about to be told off for strangling one of their allies, Doug sniggered, which mutated into full blown laughter, Blaise following suit, the two clasping onto one another as the one innocuous statement became the incubus for a giggle fit, all the tension that had built up over the course of the last 24 hours escaping from the pair of them in one prolonged burst.
“Gods damn it,” said Doug as he wiped a tear away from his eye, ignoring the other mercenaries staring at them, “lets not fight again,”
“Deal!”
When it came time to leave, Blaise helped Doug back to his feet and acted as support once more, Doug leaning on her as the group made their way back out into the dwindling night. A slip of light on the horizon told the group that they were only a couple of hours away from sunrise, the darkness – although still prevailing – not having long left. They were alone out here, it being hours before the Salmanic employees would start to arrive for work.
Or so they thought.
Suddenly the early morning din became a whole lot brighter. Search lights illuminated the area, nearly blinding the mercs below. Doug felt Blaise adjust herself so that she had easier access to her guns as he attempted to suss out what the lights were attached to.
Two light aircraft materialised above them, their onboard cloaking devices being switched off. The air was tense as the crafts came in for a landing. Tupper could be heard asking loudly what was happening. Doug became aware that Blaise wasn’t the only one with a hand on her weapon; all of her friends had become just as jumpy. In fact the only one that wasn’t nervous by the new arrivals was Harper. The scouse was grinning broadly and waving the occupants of the crafts over.
Salmanic guards began piling out of the aircraft and lined up in front of the mercs, each one carrying a large machine gun. One stepped towards Harper, his helmet opening up to show a weathered face of a man in his fifties.
“You reported the capture of the targets?” he stated. Harper nodded.
“Yes, to a point. They’ve all been eliminated. Three are inside and there are three more out here,” she told him, causing him to nod.
“And your other assignment?”
“Coming to an end, I’m afraid,” she grinned. Doug frowned.
“What’s he talking about, Harp?” asked Doug, attracting Harper’s attention. It was Blaise that answered him though in a harsh whisper.
“She works for Salmanic,” she told him, being faster on the up take than her partner. Doug looked down at Blaise in disbelief, then turned his gaze back to Harper.
“It’s true, Dougie. The top brass were never going to allow a load of feral mercenaries free reign out here so they sent me an’ a coupla others like me to keep an eye on anyone considered especially dangerous,”
“Heh, is that why you were hanging around? I’m on some sorta black list?” Doug sneered.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Luv. You’re small time,” Harper shot back, “no, I’m here because we got a tip off that four terrorists were going to try breaking into the pipe network under the guise of mercenaries. And then, to everyone’s surprise, another known terrorist thought to be in hiding showed up at one of our hiring rallies and she brought a Dark Worlder with her to boot. So that’s six suspects in total for me to keep an eye on,” explained the scouse.
“…What?” Doug glanced back at Blaise, the redhead staring up at him solemnly.
“I tried to warn you about who you were following around but I couldn’t risk her and her friends cottoning on to my real reason for being here. Sorry, Doug, but B-laze’s a real piece of work,” Harper sneered. She appeared to be enjoying this far too much.
“But it’s not too late for you, McCracken. You’ve just been caught up in all this. I can put in a good word for you, probably grant you amnesty. You just gotta come over here and we’ll lock up these scumbags,”
Doug could feel Blaise’s eyes on him, anxious over what his response would be. She could hardly blame him for abandoning them to save himself at this point. Doug clearly had other ideas.
“Fuck you!”
There was a beat of silence, Harper having expected the big reveal to play out differently.
“What-?”
“You heard me, fuck you!” Doug reiterated. Harper glanced at the Salmanic troopers either side of her awkwardly, her eyes sweeping over the guns that were currently pointed at the collection of terrorists and mercenaries before settling on Doug once more, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips.
“This isn’t the time for jokes, luv. If you don’t get your arse over here then you’ll be facing a firin’ squad,” she pointed out.
“I ain’t stupid, Harp. I knew Blaise’s past wasn’t exactly on the level; she’d be working for a private security firm if it was, not screwing around with the likes of me. She’s stuck next to me no matter how much of an arsehole I’ve been so there’s no way I’m gonna run off on her after all that! Fuck you for even thinking I would!” he was glaring at Harper intensely, standing firm in his decision. He felt Blaise give his wrist a squeeze, the gunslinger staring up at him with a renewed appreciation.
“Doug…” she uttered, touched. Harper was less impressed.
“Fine, if that’s the way you want to play it-”
“Hold your horses there, doll,” this came from Thad, The Gentleman confidently stepping forward to meet Harper in the centre of the two groups despite all the guns pointed at him, “you might want to check your intel again.”
“And why’s that?” the scouse asked with a roll of her eyes,
“Firstly, you sure these guys are the terrorists you were told about,” he jerked a thumb at his squad, “’cus I know these guys and they’ve always been on the level. And secondly, I ran guns for Salmanic for years. What makes you so sure that I’m not the guy that tipped you off to begin with?” a memory stirred in the recesses of Doug’s mind, the soldier snapping his fingers as he finally worked out why Thad looked so familiar.
“That’s why I recognised you! I stumbled into one of your trades before!” he could picture it now. Doug had been chasing a target down – a greasy smear of a man that had angered a local gang leader by stealing merchandise and selling it on – and had tackled him through a door which led to the back room of a pub. Crates of weapons could be found there along with two men in suits and a certain nasal-voiced fellow with a fussy little moustache and a shaved head…
In the present, Thad nodded.
“See? I ain’t no anti-Salmanic terrorist and neither are my pals. I don’t care what you do to Katie and her Dark Worlder over there; she’s a bitch and he frankly scares the hell outta me but you’re gonna wanna look at our files again,”
“And you being on first name terms with a terrorist that’s been using an alias isn’t a hint you’re lying out of your arse?” Harper asked innocently. There was a brief flicker of annoyance across The Gentleman’s face as he mentally cursed the slip of his tongue before he calmly shrugged.
“Kate’s only been going by Blaise for a little while. She was still going by Kate when Annie’s ex introduced her. Is dating a guy that weren’t exactly honest a crime now too? Guilty by association?”
“More like guilty of being a two-faced areswipe you sonofa-”
“Doug…” Blaise’s voice was a low growl, telling him now wasn’t the time to start lashing out. Now was the time to play things carefully. Doug bit his tongue and took to scowling at the back of the Gentleman’s head, Thad ignoring him. Harper, however, started to laugh.
“Oh man, you must think I’m a real idiot. Sure, the tip off was anonymous but I’m pretty sure it didn’t come from you, luv. You’ll say just about anything to get yourself off the hook!”
“How’d you know it wasn’t me?”
“The tip came from a reliable source from within New Dawn for a start, so you being not associated with those arseholes and yet sending the tip doesn’t make sense,” she started, “the second thing is that after the source came through, our guys were extra vigilant in checking everything was on the level with all the mercenary applicants. Now the fake backgrounds and IDs your people put together for you lot were masterful; damn near pieces of art in fact but there were just enough discrepancies in them that made our guys dig a little deeper. What they found pretty much confirms that your pals work for New Dawn,” a sly grin slowly spread across her impish face as a thought occurred.
“But if you’re so insistent that you’re on our side, well, there’s one simple test I can do to see if that’s true…” no one expected Harper to go for her gun, the scouse quickly drawing it and shooting in Annie’s direction. Automatic fire hit the dirt as Harper’s arm rose to become level with Annie’s shoulder, a bullet sailing right into her flesh. The southern belle screamed in pain, blood splattering the floor beneath her. Thad watched wide-eyed as his fiancé was knocked off her feet and fell to the floor. All intention to talk his way out of this situation evaporated, Thad now seeing red.
“Now if you’re really on Salmanic’s side then you won’t care about some terrorist piece of-” a right hook to the face shut Harper up, the scouse stumbling backwards before being grappled by a livid Thad. Caught off guard, the Salmanic Security raised their weapons with the intent to start firing only to be further surprised when a wall of emerald flame erupted from the ground in front of them, blocking their view. Doug was the first of the bystanders to regain their senses.
“What are we waiting for, get to the bloody monorail!” he yelled, the New Dawn crew complying with the command. Mercenaries and New Dawn agents alike began to run towards the monorail tracks and the awaiting train car sitting on the platform besides the monitor station. Thad threw another punch at Harper, stunning her long enough to grab her and take her hostage, slinging her over his shoulder and making a break for the train.
Doug found his escape particularly hard, his stab wound on fire as he forced himself forward. Blaise tried to help, laying down suppressing fire as they made a break for it, the security coming to their senses and beginning to shoot through the wall of flames in order to stop their escape.
The New Dawners tore off ahead, Doug slowing the mercenaries down. Parkinson and Thad got to the train first, wrenching the doors open. Parkinson flung himself inside, smashed a window open to be used as a vantage point as he turned his rifle on those wishing to stop them. Thad threw Harper onto one of the benches and then helped Annie and Tupper aboard before rushing down to the front of the train with the goal to start the engine. Annie waited at the door, holding it open with her body and reaching out for the mercs with her good arm.
“C’mon sugahs! Ya’ll can make it!” she yelled. Blaise focused on helping Doug to run, aware that the train was slowly starting to move forward. At this rate it would leave without them, a fact Doug was becoming very aware of as his side flared with pain and his lungs began to struggle to continue to breathe evenly.
“Worry about… yourself, Love! I’m just… holding you back!” he wheezed between breaths. Blaise wasn’t having any of it.
“Fuck off, no one’s sacrificing themselves today!” she snapped, urging him on.
“No need to be so dramatic,” Gratin’s voice chimed in, the mage swooping down from above to begin levitating level with his friends. He grasped Doug under the armpits and lifted, Doug’s feet leaving the ground as Gratin flew him towards the train, Blaise free to sprint at full pelt.
They came level with the train just as it left the platform, Gratin practically throwing himself and Doug inside the carriage. He then lent out and extended his arm towards Blaise, the red head wildly leaping at the door, Gratin and Annie catching her and dragging her inside just as a round of automatic fire thudded around the door frame.
Post by Sam | August 27, 2022 at 12:01 am | The Mercenaries' Tale | No comment
Tags: Allan Parkinson, Annie Stone, Blaise, Dark Worlders, Doug McCracken, Galmanoc, Gratin, Jessie Harper, monorail, New Dawn, Salmanic Incorporated, Salmanic pipeline, Thad the Gentleman, the Mercs, Tupper, Twigarnians, vehicles and transport