Mercenaries’ Tale – 4.15 Warehouse Inferno
Kate had never ran so fast in her life.
She could feel the heat baring down on her. The ends of her hair were singeing. Sweat was pouring out of her at an alarming rate. Her sides were aching over how much she was pushing herself to keep moving. Staying still was a death sentence; moving at least bought her time to formulate a plan. Any plan.
Abaddon was floating in the middle of the warehouse, cackling madly as he tracked her path via flame thrower magic. This wasn’t any kind of flame thrower though, he was using his ability to manipulate the fire to sculpt the flames into a herd of horses that he was puppeteering, forcing them to chase her down.
Kate dove over boxes and pallets, sprinted towards the stacks of shelves and leapt through a gap, rolling upon landing and springing right back onto her feet, weaving between obstacles in the hopes of losing Abaddon in the stacks. The horses didn’t need to worry about obstacles; they ran straight through them, setting everything they passed through alight.
She needed to think. She could only run for so long before she would inevitability tire out and be consumed by the flames. What did she know about magic? What could she use against a mage as powerful as Abaddon?
“I am sensing the innate mystical energies that cling to all living things.” a memory sparked. Gratin had said that on the cruise liner. Abaddon could use those energies to track her. Gratin had been hampered when too many people had been around…that wouldn’t do her any good here! Think HARDER!
She skidded left at the end of the stack, darting deeper into the warehouse and towards the fire exit. She was closing in, only a few feet away…
The flooring directly in front of the door exploded, the force of which sent Kate tumbling backwards, the gunslinger scrambling to get back onto her feet before the flaming herd caught her. Using all of her strength, she threw herself down the closest row, narrowly avoiding being set ablaze by their hooves. The herd needed to make a tight turn to follow her, the horses collapsing into one another, flattening into a small flame and then bursting back into their equine form facing the new direction to continue the chase, roiling over one another like a tidal wave of flame.
Kate mentally grasped for another memory. Anything Gratin had said to her over the years that could help.
“Magic is emotion,” They were camping in the Dustlands, staking out a safehouse their target was using, the mage stoking the flames the group was using to keep warm through the night, “when I use my empathic abilities, I am not exactly reading your emotions but rather how the aether in your vicinity is reacting to you. It’s a subtle art but it can help identify when something living is in the area…” that was more helpful. Abaddon didn’t need to see her to track her. He was tracking where these mystical energies – the aether – was reacting to a stimulus. Her fear was telling him where she was! If she could just calm herself down she could hide. Maybe buy some time…
She swerved right and dove through the gap between the shelving, barely avoiding getting stuck. She landed roughly and turned into a roll, going underneath the next stack of shelving and popping up in the next aisle.
Focus on your breathing. Your heart beat. Ignore the heat! She urged herself, mentally counting between each intake of breath. She needed to be emotionally numb. She needed to be harder to track.
She was getting closer to her original path through the shelving. This end of the warehouse was burning, the wooden shelves alight between the steel racking that held them together. It was harder to breathe here, smoke beginning to fill the area, obscuring it. Kate dropped low to where the air was slightly cleaner. She crawled under one last set of shelves and held still, focusing on counting her own breaths and trying to remove her scarf in order to use it as a makeshift mask.
The horses had lost track of her, the herd exiting the stacks and spilling out back onto the empty warehouse floor. Abaddon was floating over them, confused. His senses weren’t as finely tuned as Gratin’s, the madman never having to rely on them as heavily as his rival and former partner. A moment ago, Katherine had been radiating so much fear that she had been akin to a trembling black hole to his empathic senses; a black spot amongst all of the fire magic he was throwing around. Now she was blending in, the fear suppressed. He couldn’t even track her heat signature, the inferno in the stacks obscuring her.
If that’s the way she wanted to play it then fine. He had all the time in the world to smoke her out…
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
It hadn’t taken Doug long to find the security office. It was exactly where the technician had said it would be. What he hadn’t been expecting was for it to be so crowded.
There were five heavily armoured individuals inside, their suits painted blue and silver, a diamond motif running across the design. Their helmets completely covered their faces, giving them an inhuman quality reminiscent of a skull. Salmanic Security. Their presence explained the sudden power outage but what were they doing here?
Doug pressed himself against the wall, observing through the window built into the door, straining his ears for a clue.
“We in?”
“Yes sir, deleting the- holy shit!”
“What?”
“Take a look, there’s more here than we were expecting, sir,”
“The hell! There’s more here than just stuff on Victor and the power plant…”
“Do we continue as ordered, sir?”
Doug frowned. It sounded like they were in the computer system. Did Genetix have dirt on Salmanic? If they did, that could be valuable… he was under equipped and seriously under protected for this sort of thing but if Salmanic were desperate to get some files then as far as he was concerned, it was his job to stop that from happening. Sure, he had a very big gun with an absurdly high calibre of bullet inside but all it would take would be for them to make one shot and he’d be down before he could finish the job. He needed to play this smart…
He glanced around for some inspiration, his gaze settling on the thermostat just on the other side of the door.
The Salmanic field op leader hesitated before turning to face the Genetix security guard that had been in the room when the team had arrived. It was the young guard that had taken Doug’s stuff, the tray on the floor next to him. He let out a whimper as the Op Leader approached him.
“What do you know about this?”
“I dunno man! I just started here a few months ago! I don’t know what’s on the system, I just guard it!” he protested.
“I thought this was a genetics company? It would have taken some serious field operatives to amass this level of intel. What are you people doing here really?”
“I dunno! You’d have to ask the Sisters, man! They’re the brains behind everything!” the kid wailed. He was sweating profusely in his distress. Really sweating. He could feel it running down the back of his neck.
The Ops Leader gave up on his line of questioning, instead turning away and reaching for his radio. The kid noticed the other Salmanic troopers beginning to play with their helmets and neck plating.
“Come in B-Team. We found more intel than we were expecting, please advise…” said the Op Leader, a voice responding a moment later.
“How much more?” The Op Leader rubbed his face plate, swaying gently in place as he considered what to say.
“There’s years of amassed data here. Not just on Salmanic either but key figures of interest. The majority of the files themselves are encrypted but I’m seeing names relating not just to the Pillars but members of the Scanian royal family and the last eight or so presidents of Zhenya…” some of the troopers were now playing with the heads-up display within their helmets. One was using a table to balance themselves, looking as if they were about to faint. The Genetix guard began unzipping his own body armour. It was so hot…
“Make a copy for the eggheads back home to examine then delete everything on the system. Report in when you’re done over there,” the Ops Leader turned to the trooper waiting by the computer and gestured for them to continue.
“You heard what they said. Do…do that…” he trailed off, clawing at his own helmet in frustration. One of the other troopers removed their helmet entirely, gasping for breath. Once the helmet was off, a beeping sound filled the room, lights from the built in display visible. They were blinking red, the visor full of warning messages. Steam was beginning to waft out of the joints of another trooper, the suit’s owner banging on their helmet as they struggled to get it off.
“Sir? There’s something seriously wrong with these suits!”
“Faust sake, how hot is it in here?” the Leader cycled through the various information his own display was telling him. You could almost hear him pale as the kronnie dropped.
“Shit! Get your suits off, now!”
Power armour is great for protecting the wearer in the midst of battle and it can give you an edge in combat, the systems enhancing your natural strength and agility. What it is not great at is running in extreme temperatures. You can modify them to work better at hot or cold environments but not both at the same time. If the systems get too cold, joints stiffen and some of the liquids used to control the internal temperature of the suit may freeze, rendering it inhospitable. If the suit gets far too hot however – especially if the suit had been modified to better retain heat in a cold environment – then those various coolants and hydraulic systems may begin to boil and you wind up with a whole new set of problems. Doug, having worked with and against power armour many times in his long history with the PSF knew this extremely well. He was chuckling like a school boy as he slowly turned the thermostat up as far as it could possibly go. He was watching through the window on the door as he did so, seeing the troopers inside begin to panic and peel off their armour as quickly as they could. It was too late for a couple of them, their suits already running hot in the normal temperature range before the thermostat was interfered with.
There was a worrying popping noise, the hydraulic systems built into the arms of one of the suits steaming so badly some bolts were forced out of the plating and were fired across the room. One trooper fell over as they fainted, the internal temperature of the suits being far too high to handle. The last trooper to undress found it impossible to take their gauntlets off, the internal components expanding around their arm, trapping it.
One of the Salmanic Troopers had enough and made a break for the door, desperate to find some cold air. What they weren’t expecting was for the door to burst open the second they were stood directly in front of it, the door slamming into their face and breaking their nose. The occupants of the room were further surprised when a stark naked mercenary stepped into the room with a FBG in hand and opened fire on the now significantly less protected invaders, roaring with laughter as the bullets sprayed across the room. Three troopers were cut down, the remaining two diving into cover behind the tables and steel lockers. The Genetix guard pressed himself as close to the floor as humanly possible, hands over his head as he screamed in alarm.
Doug ignored the kid, focusing more on the Salmanic invaders. The furniture in the room and even the walls didn’t stand a chance against the 68 cal rounds, each bullet tearing through whatever the Salmanic Troopers were using as cover like butter. By the time Doug ran out of bullets, most of the room had been reduced to splinters, the Salmanic invaders having been reduced to little more than minced meat.
“Faust, I could get used to a gun like this! Shame it’s so bloody heavy!” the soldier exclaimed as he surveyed the damage, “as cool as it was shooting the breeze with you guys, I should really be on my way!” he dropped the gun and turned to collect his stuff only to find the Genetix guard lying on the floor, aiming a gun at Doug’s joy department. There was an awkward pause as Doug came to realise it was his own gun, the guard having grabbed it from the tray of Doug’s possessions.
“Are you being serious right now?” said an unimpressed Doug as he watched the young man shakily climb to his feet.
“Shut up! You’re supposed to be in stasis! We can’t have test subjects running around!” Doug had to give it to the kid, he was committed.
“You’re being invaded by Salmanic Inc right now. I’m the least of your problems. Put my gun down,” the soldier tried to keep his voice level and stern. The last thing he needed was to spook the bloke into pulling the trigger.
“Yeah, but you’re something I can actually do something about right now! C’mon, let’s get you in your box before anything else happens-” he was interrupted by the sounds of sirens going off.
“Like the fire alarm going off, you mean?” asked Doug, deadpan.
“Err…I’m not trained for this…” the guard admitted. The computer chose this moment to make a “ding” noise, the process of copying files completed.
“Bet you aren’t trained for that, either,” Doug pointed vaguely in the direction of the computer. The guard made the mistake of looking where Doug was pointing, the mercenary taking full advantage by grabbing the man’s wrist and dragging him forward, slamming his knee into his gut. With a jerk, he wrenched his gun free from the guard’s grip and smashed it into the back of his skull, rendering him unconscious..
“Serves you right, you prick…” muttered Doug as he hurried forward to reclaim his stuff.
Moments later, he was once again dressed and armed. He decided to inspect the computer, removing the memory stick the Salmanic troopers had been using to copy the files onto and tucking it into his leathers, making note that the Salmanic guys had hooked the computers up to a small battery in order to power it during the power outage. He then noticed the security feeds. The cameras were all out of commission but the bio-circuitory used in the rats and owls were still transmitting whatever they were witnessing. Doug’s attention was drawn to the feed displaying the burning warehouse, Abaddon puppeteering horses made of fire which he was using to chase a panicked Kate around the room.
Doug felt like he was teetering on the edge of a precipice, his heart in his throat. Kate was going to die. Abaddon was bullet-proof; she couldn’t take him in a fair fight. Abaddon was going to incinerate her.
Breathing out of control. Red tinting his vision. Doug placed his human hand on his bionic bicep. He had something that could help. He just needed to get over there…
There was a map of the complex on the wall by the door he had entered by that was supposed to be a reference for all the fire exits. He quickly studied it, finding the quickest route possible, grabbed the security keys he had previously pilfered and ran out of there at a sprint.
Blaise wasn’t about to die on his watch.
He wasn’t going to lose another friend.
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
Kate kept her eyes closed tight as she tried to block out the heat and noise around her. If she was going to come up with a plan, she needed to remain calm enough to stay hidden. It was easier said then done, the heat in the warehouse stifling. Her clothes and scarf were soaked through with sweat and she could see the flicker of the flames and shifting of light through her eyelids. It was taking all of her willpower not to panic.
She tried to focus on what she had.
Her guns were no good. Unless she had a way to mess with his concentration by scattering a lot of shots over a sustained period, it would take a cannon to blast through his shield. What else did she have? An assortment of grenades? The smoke grenades were useless due to the amount of actual smoke filling the room. Flash grenades could make a good distraction if she did have an exit. What about the regular grenades? Set enough off at once and they could potentially break through the shield but could she find an opening to do that? A trap maybe?
Determined now, she rolled onto her front and began to belly crawl to a new position.
Abaddon was running out of patience. It was not a quality he had ever been known for. He had not been bred to wait; if he wanted something, it was provided or he took it. Right now his entertainment had been taken from him. That wouldn’t do.
He aimed a palm at one of the already burning shelving units and tensed, a fire ball blasting forth and exploding upon impact with the structure, scattering wood and steel shrapnel across the room.
“You can’t hide from me forever, Katie!” he selected the shelves furthest to his right and fired again, burning wood and the contents of the various boxes that had been stored there being sent scattering.
“Come out, come out wherever you are!” he shifted his aim to the central unit and began to charge up a far larger blast, intending to clear multiple stacks at once.
A spark of something to his left. Some sort of emotion? Shadows tinged with static. Determination mixed with terror. Katherine.
Abaddon barrelled towards it, his arms igniting.
“FOUND YOU!” he blasted a stack out of his way in the hopes of revealing her. He wasn’t expecting the flash grenade to go off, blinding him. He let out a frustrated scream as his vision filled with white. The next thing he knew, a cardboard box filled with five grenades impacted his shield and promptly exploded, the mad mage being sent soaring backwards, towards the centre of the room, his protective spell shattering around him as he bounced across the concrete.
Shaking with unbridled rage, he attempted to pick himself up only for Kate to emerge from the smoke and flames, both pistols raised and unleashing as many bullets as she could before Abaddon had a chance to rally enough to summon a new shield. His chest and shoulders were peppered with lead, the mage stumbling backwards from the force of the shots, blood seeping through what was left of his robes. Kate let out a cry in her anger as her guns clicked empty, Abaddon lying in a heap a few feet in front of her.
Breathing heavily, she holstered one pistol and began to reload the other as quickly as she could.
The body stirred.
Laughter began to fill the air. A light chuckle at first that became uproarious as the body glided upwards so that it was completely vertical once more.
Abaddon stared Kate in the eye as he tore the bloodied top half of his robes away revealing his bare torso. There were more burn scars there but also a mess of runic tattoos that were all glowing intensely. Ones to suppress pain and boost healing. Others to improve concentration and aether absorption. Their purpose was lost on Kate but she knew they were bad news. Her eye was drawn to the centre of his chest to where a cybernetic device had been surgically imbedded. She recognised it as a device used to help those with breathing problems. It looked new, Blaise having left her mark in her last altercation with the mage.
Abaddon glimpsed down at his many bullet wounds almost lazily, raising a finger to wipe some of the blood away and peering at it as if it were a mere curiosity.
“…You drew first blood. Well done,” he barely moved the finger to shoot a lightning bolt at her. She felt her muscles lock up as the electricity knocked her off her feet. A net of static covered her, Abaddon spinning on the balls of his feet and using it to catapult the gunslinger into the centre of the open floor of the warehouse, Kate being sent sprawling as the spell cut out, her gun getting knocked from her hand. Pain filled her senses, a cry of agony escaping her lips.
“You wounded a higher being. You can be proud of that but you are still merely an ant compared to me,” Abaddon was saying as he floated towards her, “Get up!”
He fired a fire bolt into the floor inches from her, Kate being knocked backwards just as she was finding her feet. She stumbled, faltered, then pushed herself into a crouched position. Everything ached.
“Fuck you…” her teeth were grit so hard she thought she might break one. Abaddon was merely amused by her distress, flinging another fireball at her. She launched herself into a run in order to dodge, the ball exploding behind her knocking her forward. She fell into a roll, launched back into a sprint only to have to skid to a halt to avoid running head first into Abaddon’s next blast, the resulting explosion knocking her off her feet.
Her hair was being knocked loose of it’s tie, red strands filling her vision. Her hat was cast free of her head, the gunslinger instinctively attempting to grab it in desperation. Seeing a new way to hurt the woman, Abaddon blasted it out of the air.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Kate watched the fire engulf her headwear, the fabric turning to cinders before her very eyes.
One more connection to her family lost…
“Aww, you look upset. Didn’t your daddy wear a hat like that? How sad…” Abaddon was mocking her from his vantage point in mid air. He was casually tossing a small fireball up and down in his hands as if it were a tennis ball, a sneer on his twisted face. Kate was staring at the pile of ash that used to be her hat, a hand tentatively touching the small pile. Her mind was a mess of thoughts. Her friends had been captured and were locked up somewhere. Abaddon could withstand a barrage of bullets thanks to his many augments. She wasn’t going to survive this without a miracle but that didn’t mean she was about to go quietly…
“I can sense that you’ve developed a healthy fear of fire since our first meeting. Maybe it’s time you succumbed?” the fireball expanded to the size of a basketball, the mad mage balancing it on a finger. Kate shifted her gaze to him, a barely contained fury lying behind her eyes.
“No…no, I refuse to be afraid…” she seethed, forcing herself to stand tall once more.
“Hmm?”
“I won’t let you get to me. You have no power over me!” she spat, anchoring herself to the spot in as solid a stance as she could, her hands balled into fists at her side. Abaddon couldn’t help but laugh at the puny creature before him.
“What’s this? Does the little girl still have some fight left in her?”
“I am not a child. I am not your plaything. I refuse to be some…outlet for your own inadequacies!” she was shaking, anger permeating her every word.
“What are you babbling about?”
“I know your type. I’ve seen it before so many times; frustrated little men tired of being stepped on, tired of being treated like nothing, manage to get a taste of power. A taste of something greater than them and they become obsessed,” she spread out her arms mockingly as she continued, “they lord over everyone around them, trying to prove that they aren’t insignificant, clawing for more power like a starving man faced with a banquet. It’s pathetic!”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” the fireball swelled a few inches larger, a glare forming on the mage’s face.
“Oh no, I know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve got you pegged. The only question that remains is who are you so eager to prove yourself to? A childhood bully? A boss? A sibling? Parent?” at the mention of the word parent, all the flames in the room doubled in size. The fireball Abaddon had been playing with extinguished as he tightly clenched his fist.
“ENOUGH!” he was seething, hatred in his eyes, “Insolent little cow! You’re not fit to breathe the same air as me!”
Kate flinched at the increased intensity of the flames but otherwise didn’t move. She took a deep breath, pushing the fear back down where it belonged, holding her gaze.
“Did I touch a nerve? Was your mummy or daddy too much of an asshole to ever love you? Is that why you’re so pathetic?” this only caused Abaddon to roar, the wall of flames behind him stretching higher and higher in his rage.
“I’ll kill you!”
“Then do it!” yelled Kate, spit flying, “Strike me down like the god you think you are! It won’t change anything! You’ll only prove me right!”
“No, it may not,” he sounded a little calmer, the mage getting a handle on his emotions as electricity began to crackle around the gauntlet on his left arm, “but it will make me feel immeasurably better!”
The electricity began to collect in his open palm, Abaddon preparing to unleash one final spell on the red head. Above him, a grate in the ventilation system was forced out of its frame. Abaddon was distracted by the noise, looking to where the grate impacted the floor and then shifting his gaze when the sound of some manner of motor or engine filled the air. He looked up just in time to see Doug falling from the ceiling, his bionic arm immensely skinner below the elbow than it was previously. It was a thin rod, its edges moving at speed. A chainsaw.
With no time to react, Abaddon could only watch in horror as the spinning chain of the saw came down on his arm and sliced right through it, obliterating the bone and tearing away the flesh until both the lower half of Abaddon’s left arm and Doug himself landed on the floor. Blood sprayed violently from Abaddon’s newly acquired stump as the mad mage howled in agony and bewilderment.
Doug had landed on his feet in front of the stunned Kate, his face a mask of animalistic rage.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH MY ANGEL!” he roared. He was seeing red, elements of the ruins of Jehoth IV waving in and out of existence on the edge of his vision. It was taking a lot of effort to remind himself that it was Abaddon in front of him right now, not Kraken.
Kate was struggling to process what had just happened. Abaddon’s blood was everywhere, covering Doug and even splattering over herself. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Doug? What?!” he didn’t take his eyes off Abaddon, his head only slightly tilting towards her.
“Hey Love, tried the door but it was a bit too hot so thought I’d drop in and cut to the chase instead. You hurt?”
“I’ll live!” She told him, a laugh escaping her lips as her confused brain struggled to deal with the absurdity of his sudden appearance. His presence brought with it a sense of relief though, Kate thankful that he wasn’t in the process of being pickled for science right now.
The reunion would have to wait, the conversation stalling as Abaddon began screaming anew. He had pressed his right hand to his stump and was cauterising the wound, the smell of cooking flesh mingling with the smoke and scent of ash. He had fallen to his knees, tears in his eyes and a livid aura of pure murderous hatred surrounding him. The screams slowly ceased, the mage panting. His eyes darted between his severed hand wearing the now useless gauntlet, and the mercenaries.
“There are no words for what I am going to do to the pair of you now…” Abaddon began as he straightened up, his feet slowly levitating in the air as he began to float. His eyes were glowing, flame beginning to gather around him like a halo.
The mercenaries prepared for the worst.
The wall that housed the entrance to the warehouse exploded in green flame, scattering rubble and dust into the room, the rush of air stoking the flames on the far side of the warehouse.
Gratin was wreathed in his signature emerald flame, light shining behind the pools of black glass that were the eyes of his mask, the mage floating in the middle of the new entryway.
“ABADDON!” boomed the Twigarnian.
His friends could only gape in shock. Abaddon however began to laugh.
“Brother! What a pleasant surprise! Have you come to witness the end of your pets’ insignificant lives?”
The reply came in the form of the flames in the building combining together to form a giant fist that Gratin used to punch Abaddon through the ceiling, clearly not in the mood to trade barbs. Debris rained down from above, Doug turning on his heel and tackling Kate to the floor in order to use his body as a shield to protect her. A spirit shield glowed around them, Gratin protecting his friends. Doug took in the glow then turned to the mage, the pair sharing a respectful nod before Gratin took to the skies, chasing after his target.
Post by Sam | January 21, 2023 at 12:01 am | The Mercenaries' Tale | No comment
Tags: Abaddon, Animal Sentries, Blaise, chainsaw arm, Doug McCracken, Flashback, Forest Canyon, Genetix, Gratin, Kate O'Donnell, magic and mages, Polaris, Salmanic Incorporated, the Mercs