Mercenaries’ Tale – 3.08 Doug Rides Again
The other two mercenaries attempted to rush forward to catch their friend but were dissuaded as the G-men trained their guns on them.
“The fuck did you do to Gratin?!” yelled Doug, focusing on the one thing that mattered through the haze of brain-needles.
“GR4-71N is ours, I suggest you move along,” the leader pressed, standing firm.
“Fuck off! We ain’t leaving without our mate!” growled Doug, fists clenched at his side.
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” the Leader sneered. They were at an impasse, Doug attempting to stare the stranger down despite his opponent’s face being completely obscured. It looked like Doug was preparing to do something incredibly reckless but was interrupted by the sound of gunfire.
More Salmanic Security had arrived. They were descending the stairs in the lobby, opening fire on the trespassers they could see through the half opened blast door. Less guns were pointing at the mercs now, the security clearly the bigger threat. The leader of the group made the mistake of taking his eyes off of Doug, turning to see what was happening behind him. The next thing he knew, a bionic arm had wrapped around his throat and was crushing his windpipe.
“We need to get to the…the…” Doug stumbled over his words, trying to think clearly despite the odd sensation in his head. It was difficult to concentrate, the sensation of pins and needles in his brain diverting his attention in a multitude of directions at once. It was hard to keep his thoughts straight. Clicking his fingers, he jabbed his index finger in the vague direction he wanted to go as he tightened his hold on the flailing G-man, “the thingy! You know, the wossname!”
Kate risked a glance to see where he was pointing as she raised her pistols in preparation to defend her friend.
“The door?”
“Yeah, that! Let’s… y’know… go!” he yelled, having dropped the now un-moving Leader and was now mid-way through punching one of the other G-men in the face as it tried to grab him from behind. Kate nodded, and set to work clearing a path, attempting to shoot those blocking their way. There was four of them – the two that were guarding the stairs and a further two that peeled away from the gunfight as they realised what was transpiring behind them – each of which were raising their machine-guns ready to open fire. Kate remained on the run, trying to stay a moving target in a bid to avoid being shot whilst returning fire. Her usually impeccable aim was suddenly found to be lacking, the bullets going wide as the gunslinger failed to focus through the cloud of brain-needles. With every miss, Kate found herself becoming more and more frustrated until she found herself muttering “to hell with it” and reaching into her coat for a grenade which was then tossed to the feet of those in the way. It was hardly as elegant a solution as she would usually use to rid herself of obstacles but this was not the time for precision.
The G-men all attempted to dive aside as the grenade landed, two being riddled with shrapnel from the explosion, one of which being on the receiving end of a kick to the head as Kate closed the gap. She spun on her heel and plugged a bullet into the Forth’s head at point blank range. Doug scooped the unconscious body of Gratin up, tossed him across his shoulder and made a break for it, sprinting in the direction of his companion who was in the process of swapping key components of her rifle for a slightly different arrangement of tubes until the weapon had been transformed into a shotgun, which was then put to use blasting the face of the first G-man that tried to prevent their escape.
Doug reached the door first, Kate laying down suppressing fire as she followed, the large spread of her buckshot doing a much better job of hitting her targets than her pistols now that her aim was compromised.
Once in the corridor, they both broke into a run in an attempt to get as far away as possible, every step seeing them better able to focus now that they were leaving the range of the strange device the G-men had been in possession of. It was a relief to feel the pressure lifting, Kate’s aim improving now she could think clearly.
They could hear shouts behind them, G-men attempting to get away from the Security force swarming the power rooms. The sound of gunfire was almost deafening even from this distance, Kate willing to bet that a lot more had turned up this time. There were shouts, cries of “grenade” accompanied by a loud “bang”, a cacophony of gunshots followed by an eerie silence. Doug hesitated momentarily, straining his ears as he caught his breath.
“We’ve got seconds before either the G-men give chase or the Salmanic guys realise we’re not there!” Kate impatiently warned over her shoulder as she slowed to a jog. Doug, red in the face and sweat pouring off of him as he tried to force his breathing to even out could only swear in response before breaking into a laboured run once more.
This corridor led to an elevator and an emergency stairwell. Judging from the display above the elevator’s doors, someone was currently riding it down. Kate inspected the stairwell, saw it was clear and nodded towards it to let Doug know which was the safest route up, allowing him to pass. She kept her shotgun raised as she climbed the stairs backwards, keeping the gun at the ready just in case those riding the lift ran for the stairs.
The elevator dinged as it arrived on this floor, the doors opening. Kate and Doug froze momentarily, holding their breath to see if they were about to have to fight again. They were three floors up at this point; not easy to spot from the ground floor if they hugged the walls. There was a rush of footsteps as nine heavily armoured members of Salmanic Security sprinted out and began running towards the power rooms. One hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, giving them a quick glance before rushing off to meet their cohorts. Doug and Kate let out a long breath in relief and began to climb the stairs as quickly and quietly as they could, Kate overtaking Doug in order to protect him in the eventuality that anyone did decide to start climbing down the stairs.
At the top was a security door with an electronic lock. Doug gently placed the unconscious mage on the floor so he could force the lock open, shoulder-barging the door with his bionics until it was bent out of shape enough to pry his metallic fingers in and rip the obstacle out of its frame.
They emerged in the parking bays. Kate stepped around Doug and fired on the trio of guards waiting up here, the gun slinger pumping the first full of shotgun buck, diving into a roll to get into cover behind a parked up buggy and throwing a grenade at the remaining two. The coast now clear, Doug scooped up Gratin once more, risking a quick glance down the stairwell where he could now see movement.
“Shit, gotta move Love! I think Security won!” he informed his partner, Kate slinging her shotgun onto her back and drawing her pistols once more as she surveyed the car park.
Most of the vehicles were patrol cars: dune-buggies that were good for going off road but were lacking in speed. They also all only housed two seats; no room for all three of them. Kate felt her stomach sinking as she ran through the car park, hopes of finding a suitable vehicle slowly dying as their options trickled away. Then Doug spotted their salvation tucked in a corner sandwiched between two of the buggies: a hover bike with a sidecar. It was a sleek design, reminiscent of a dirt bike, the vehicle built for off-road travel. The addition of the sidecar seemed somewhat unusual but Doug wasn’t about to look a gift-horse in the mouth.
Laughing, Doug rushed towards it and slipped Gratin into the sidecar, taking care to buckle him up. By the time Kate caught up to them, the soldier had made himself comfortable on the bike itself and was putting on some goggles he had found on Gratin’s seat.
“Hop on!” he grinned at her. Apprehension was evident on the redhead’s face.
“Oh gods…”
“What? You know I’m our best bet at driving us out of here in one piece! I-”
“Used to be a taxi driver. I know. You’ve told me the story before,” she told him, removing her hat and fishing the music player out of its band.
“It was a job you had for two weeks and ended – and I’m quoting you here – when you managed to total not just your own car but five others and a boat?” she continued, placing her headwear in the foot-well of the sidecar.
“Well, yeah but in my defence I was just getting used to driving with only one arm and then this truck-”
“Just promise me you won’t get us killed,” she interrupted him as she straddled the bike and finished setting up her music, placing an earpiece into her ear. She wrapped her arms around Doug’s waist, her colleague grinning as he revved the engine.
“No worries, I know what I’m doing!” Kate could only roll her eyes as the sound of guitar strings began to reverberate in her ear, the gunslinger taking a deep breath as she absorbed the melody.
As the Salmanic Security burst out of what was left of the security door, they were just in time to hear the hum of hover thrusters warming up and the sight of the dirt bike shooting out of the parking bay, into the light of a rising dawn over the desert. They opened fire, aiming for the thrusters but they were too late, the mercenaries rapidly disappearing into the distance.
Swearing, the security ran for the dune buggies in the hopes of chasing them down, one of them grabbing a radio to call for back up.
Kate was watching over her shoulder as they flew down the road, Doug aiming to put as much distance between them and the power plant as quickly as they possibly could. They were close to hitting 80 miles per hour, the trio already midway down the stretch of road that led out of the complex. In the distance, Kate could see the buggies leaving the parking bay and beyond that more aircraft were taking to the skies.
“We’ve got company!” she announced, Doug grinning at her words.
“Hold on tight!” he was upping their speed, eyes on the gate and boundary fence that was rapidly approaching them. Ninety feet in front of them.
Seventy…
Fifty…
Thirty…
Suddenly, a buggy that had been out on patrol crested a dune just outside the gate, sailed through the air and landed just outside the boundary, the vehicle speeding towards them. Doug swore and jerked the bike left, swerving to avoid the incoming car and zooming out onto the rougher terrain beyond the tarmac. The buggy matched their course, gaining speed behind them, the passenger grabbing their side-arm and opening fire on the fleeing mercenaries.
Doug took evasive action, weaving this way and that to make them a harder target as he searched for a new way over the fence. Kate turned in her seat, left arm still wrapped around Doug as her right brought her pistol around to aim at the hover boosters of the pursuing buggy. The moment her sights lined up, she opened fire, the first two bullets merely denting the metal but the third found a fuel line, the left booster losing power. The whole left side of the buggy sunk down, hit the ground and sent the whole vehicle flipping over itself. It landed on its roof, the thruster in the back still going, causing the car to scrape along the floor and plough into the concrete base of the fence.
The other buggies were rapidly approaching having gone off road and were now speeding along diagonally from the tarmac, hoping to meet the mercs at the fence. They were the least of the trio’s worries, however, as the aircraft were much faster and armed with machine guns. They were starting to make bombing runs; the crafts flying in low, machine guns blaring, swooping in over head and turning back in preparation for another.
Doug sent the bike skidding away from the fence and back towards the plant in a bid to escape, barely avoiding the hail of bullets. He spotted a hut with a sloped back, the structure leading down into the pipeline’s maintenance tunnels. Lining the bike up, he went full throttle towards it and ramped off of it, flying clear over the buggies coming the other way and landing perfectly back onto the tarmac. Once there, he swung the bike back around to face the gate and bolted for it, Kate watching the buggies awkwardly having to turn around whilst trying not to crash into each other. It was chaos, the Salmanic guards clearly shouting at each other to get out the way as they attempted to rejoin the pursuit.
The aircraft didn’t have any relatively tight spaces to contend with, easily readjusting themselves in preparation for another bombing run. What they hadn’t expected was for a new ship to appear – this one in black and green as opposed to the metallic blue of the Salmanic craft – as the on board cloaking systems turned off, the craft opening fire on the first Salmanic craft to get in its way. Kate relayed this development to Doug.
“Some of Gratin’s friends are still about!”
“Just what we need! Lets hope they take each other out!”
One of the Salmanic aircraft continued its pursuit of the Mercs, the others getting into a dogfight with the G-ship. The black craft barrel rolled out of the way of an enemy plane, then applied sustained fire to a second, piercing an engine, the resulting explosion lighting up the early dawn sky.
This was lost on Doug who was far more preoccupied with the road ahead. It came as a shock as a hail of bullets rained down from above, forcing Doug to turn into a skid as his exit was cut off. He only had a moment to make a new exit plan, more vehicles cresting the dunes outside the boarders of the Power Plant’s compound. The disturbance at the plant had summoned all the security patrols home.
Cursing loudly, Doug retreated back into the concrete complex they were desperately trying to escape from. They blasted past the buggies that had recovered from being wedged in the narrow corridor, those that were now free resuming the chase.
The parking garage was a building all to itself connected to the rest of the facility by a corridor resting on a bridge that overlooked one of the roads that ran through the compound. More Salmanic soldiers could be seen running through it as the mercenaries’ bike raced underneath followed by five buggies. Above them, The G-ship was still being pursued by two more aircraft, the pilots of which seeing the black craft as the greater threat right now. It looked to be an intense aerial battle, the G-ship pulling out all the stops as it looped around the skies, staying just low enough to to prevent the turrets on the silos from being able to properly target them. The larger Salmanic aircraft were struggling to keep up with the manoeuvrability of the sleeker G-ship. It was an aerial ballet and a joust all in one, Kate craning her neck to see who was winning. From her vantage point on the back of the bike, she could see the one Salmanic aircraft not involved in the skirmish circling around for another bombing run.
“Doug-”
“I see ‘em!” he glanced in the bike’s mirrors. Not only was the aircraft rapidly coming to meet them, the buggies were also catching up. As soon as he saw a turning, he swerved towards it, darting down the narrow roadways towards the barracks.
The roads were busier here but not with security. What were essentially pickup trucks were moving deliveries of supplies to where they needed to go; food, cleaning chemicals, laundry; everything the facility would need to keep the compound liveable needed to be moved about and deliveries were more likely to occur at night so that their contents would be where they were needed by the time people had use for them in the day. This meant narrower roads as the trucks took up space. That gave Doug the advantage, his bike far more agile than the security buggies.
Kate found herself tightening her grip on Doug as her friend began to weave through the traffic at full speed, barely avoiding the moving obstacles in their path. A truck pulled out, Doug veered around it, the rear thruster barely avoiding clipping the larger vehicle. Seconds later, a buggy slammed into the side of the now halted truck followed by a second. Shouts could be heard over the rushing wind in the mercs’ ears as the drivers began to yell at one another. The remaining three buggies managed to squeeze through the remaining gap in the road, being forced to lower their speed to pass by the obstacle.
Doug took full advantage. He used a delivery ramp to vault over another truck and then darted down a nearby alley, finding an open space as he broke free of the concrete structures. They were still within the confines of the fences, however, the boundary line on the other side of a small man-made valley containing a pair of train tracks. It looked akin to a giant storm drain, the sides curving down towards the tracks.
Unable to jump the gap, the bike began to run parallel to it, Doug desperately trying to catch his bearings. The tracks were running north and could be seen disappearing into a tunnel before it hit the edge of the compound. Going down there would be a gamble; who knows what would be waiting on the other side?
Another attack from above helped Doug make up his mind; Doug forcing the bike left as more death hailed down from above. The bike became airborne momentarily, Doug fighting to adjust for the landing as they fell towards the tracks, the hover pad working overtime in order to prevent them from slamming into concrete as gravity yanked them downwards. They bounced violently, the bike swerving right and darting towards the tunnels.
Seconds later, three dune buggies landed heavily in the concrete valley, their hover booster shrilly scraping along the tracks as they tried to level themselves out. Swinging round in an attempt to course correct, they each shot off into the tunnel in pursuit of the Mercenaries.
High above, the aircraft were forced to circle as they waited for someone to re-emerge.
Doug opened up the throttle, pushing the bike to its limits as he tried to put as much distance between them and their pursuers. The tunnel was perfectly circular with minimal lighting. Most of the illumination came from the racing vehicles as their headlamps automatically turned on in the darkness. The widening pool of light told Doug that the buggies were closing in, their engines far more powerful than the scrappy little dirt bike. The buggies didn’t have as good a marksman as Kate on board though, her arm rising as if spring loaded. The shots were near deafening in here, Kate opening fire on the lead car, ringing out over the cacophony of sound created by the engines. She focused on finding the fuel lines for the boosters: a tricky shot in ideal light conditions but damn near impossible to see in the darkened tunnel. She remembered whereabouts they were located however, Kate taking a deep breath and lining her arm up with the spot that she had hit on her previous target.
She took her time, perception slowing around her as she focused, her finger tensing on the trigger. The bullet flew true, finding the line and sending the lead buggy spinning into one of its compatriots, the two crashing loudly into the wall leaving one car still in the chase.
This car had an armed passenger, the armoured individual returning fire at their prey. Doug was going at such speed that he decided to pull a risky manoeuvrer to escape the hail of bullets. Course adjusted, the bike veered left, following the curvature of the walls to travel up, across the ceiling and onto the other side of the tunnel, bullets following them all the way.
Once upside down, Kate had a good view of the inside of the buggy, her aim snapping into place as she opened fire on the gear box. The gear stick broke off in the driver’s hand, the security officer jerking the steering column in alarm. The buggy jolted towards the wall, made it half way up the curved surface only for gravity to stake a claim on the heavier vehicle, the hover pad shorting out and sending the car plummeting onto its roof.
Kate let out an elated cheer as they left the wreckage of the cars behind them, Doug joining in with laughter of his own. They could see light at the end of the tunnel. Things were looking up-
The sound of explosions over head reminded them that they weren’t out of the woods yet. There were still the planes to worry about, something that became abundantly clear as they burst out into the fresh dawn air to find the black G-ship waiting for them, hovering a foot over the tracks in the small concrete valley the tunnel opened out into.
“Oh shi-!” escaped from Doug’s lips as jerked the bike right, the sound of a pair of Gatling guns beginning to rotate reaching their ears.
The bike hit the slope and used it as a ramp, launching them into the air and away from the gun fire. The ship turned in place, bullet spray following the bike until it crested the valley and landed back onto the sands of the desert. The ship rose, giving chase, Doug sending the bike weaving this way and that in a desperate attempt to escape, their only advantage being how difficult it was to typically aim guns mounted to aircraft. They were built for dogfights not disabling nippy bikes after all.
Doug skidded round, darted under the ship and flung the bike back down onto the tracks, veering right again. Their best bet was the tunnel. It provided cover and hopefully the G-ship wouldn’t know where it emptied out. It was the only plan they had.
It was a good plan but sadly did not account for the pilot of the ship attempting to follow them inside.
Doug was first alerted to this development by Kate’s yells of surprise drawing his attention to his wing mirrors. The craft took up most of the space behind them – the wingspan of the ship being only a couple of feet shorter than the width of the tunnel – and it was now hurtling towards them, its Gatling guns preparing to fire again. Unable to do anything, Kate wrapped her free arm around Doug once more and buried her face into his back, fearing the worst.
Doug, however, grit his teeth and powered on, the little bike weaving across the tracks as it zoomed down the darkened tunnel. He might not have cared what happened to himself at the end of the day but this bike was carrying the precious cargo of two people he cared about most in the world and he was damned if he wasn’t going to fight for their survival.
The guns had limited movement on their own but mostly relied on the manoeuvrability of the ship they were attached to for any kind of accuracy. Seeing as how the plane had such limited space to work with right now, the guns currently had fairly large blind spots to contend with. Keeping out of the line of fire wasn’t Doug’s biggest worry right now because of it. What happened once they broke to the surface again was. Taking out Dune buggies was one thing but an aircraft would require something a lot stronger than Blaise’s pistols.
The tunnel was more all less straight to boot, only the slightest of curves present as the tunnel angled towards their destination. The chances of the pilot cocking up and crashing was fairly low.
Doug could feel his throat tightening in participation.
The worry intensified as light began to shine up ahead. It was getting brighter the closer they got.
Something was wrong, it was approaching faster than expected and wasn’t filling the entirety of the tunnel.
It was a train.
Swearing loudly, Doug violently yanked on the handlebars and swerved onto the parallel tracks, inches from a nasty accident as the train barrelled onwards. Carriages filled to the brim with ore shot past them, zooming towards the black aircraft that was taking up the entirety of the tunnel behind them.
Inside their cockpit, the pilot paled. They only had time to utter the words “oh damn” before the train ploughed through their left wing, obliterating it and sending the craft spinning into the concrete wall. The ship crashed with such force that as the engine crumpled it set off its volatile fuel source resulting in a massive fireball that rapidly expanded to fill the space around it.
As the trio of mercenaries shot out into the morning air once more they were closely followed by flames, shrapnel and billowing smoke. Doug steered the bike up the slope of the half-pipe that contained the tracks, coming to a halt once they reached the sands above.
“Fuck me, that was close!” Doug exclaimed breathlessly, his heart pounding and hand aching due to how hard he had been gripping the bike. Kate eased her head up and scanned the horizon for any sight of more pursuers. There were a couple of fast moving dots on the horizon that were rapidly approaching, the couple tensing up in preparation of another chase.
Things felt off though, the passenger in the lead car standing up and waving at them frantically.
“Wait…that’s not…can’t be…” muttered the gunslinger as the cars became close enough to make out who was driving.
The lead car was being driven by The Gentleman, Annie in the passenger seat with a radio clasped in the hand she was waving with. The other car housed Parkinson and Tupper, the mad bomber gripping his grenade launcher like a lifeline. The foursome looked as if they had fought in a war and yet relief was on all of their faces as they pulled up level to their friends.
“Annie! You’re alive?!” Kate laughed as she spoke, prompting a wink from the blonde.
“Just abouts! Been listening to your escapades on this!” she nodded towards the device in her hand, “heard you’d be over here! Can’t talk now though! This place will be swarming with security any minute now!”
“I suggest we get outta dodge sharpish!” Thad added, revving his engine.
Laughing with the release of tension, Doug revved his own engine and joined the convoy, the trio of vehicles disappearing over the horizon just as the security teams arrived to investigate the area…
Post by Sam | October 1, 2022 at 12:01 am | The Mercenaries' Tale | No comment
Tags: Allan Parkinson, AMD, Annie Stone, Anti-Magic, Blaise, Doug McCracken, Genetix, GR4-71N, Gratin, Kate O'Donnell, Motorcycle, New Dawn, Power Plant, Salmanic Incorporated, Thad the Gentleman, the Mercs, Tupper, vehicles and transport