–Outside Dr. Zack’s House, 5:17 AM–
The two AFIs had managed to conceal themselves in the park, even taking enough initiative to stay hidden under the trees there, and away from the motion sensors that dotted the building’s eight-foot high fence. One of the AFIs was prepared for anything coming in from above, having a rather large gun that looked like the love child of a cannon and a harpoon. The other held a fifty calibre machine gun in each meaty fist.
Just as the sky began to lighten, producing a false dawn, the first AFI raised the harpoon cannon, tracking a small form that vaulted neatly onto the wall, then almost immediately leaped over to the visible balcony on the two-story house. The form stayed there for several seconds, seemingly waiting for something, but didn’t get a chance to enter the building. The cannon fired with a loud ‘Ka-Whoomp’, launching the harpoon at a speed comparable to that of a small sports car at maximum speed.
The figure turned enough to avoid a direct hit, but the harpoon still slapped into its arm with enough force to punch right through, revealing several of the barbs sticking out of the back of the person’s arm. The AFI then grabbed the chain linking the harpoon to the cannon, and, setting its feet firmly against the ground, it heaved. The person the harpoon was sticking into was literally launched into the air, ending up with a dull thump against the inside of the wall. The AFI yanked again, and the form was slowly edged up and over the wall, landing on the sidewalk with a dull thump and a muffled scream.
Just as the AFI was about to produce a third yank, which would have brought the person into squeezing distance, a dull snapping sound was heard and the chain was sent flying back into the AFI’s face. Ignoring the fact that its face had just been opened up almost as smoothly as with a scalpel, the AFI caught the machine gun its ‘sibling’ threw it, fed the gun a belt of ammo, and immediately opened fire. The person just huddled on the ground, absorbing incredible amounts of punishment as both streams of fire hosed across its midriff, knocking the person back against the wall.
Instead of just sitting there, the person was slowly pushing the metal spike out through the back of its arm, seemingly ignoring the bullets that continued to rake across its exposed flank. Finally, after almost fifteen seconds of sustained fire, the form wavered, dropped to both knees, and screamed again, only this time in anger, then suddenly burst into action. It scooped up the bloody spike from where the chunk of metal had finally fallen, and in a fairly creditable underhand toss, it lobbed the spike straight for the face of the AFI who had already had the chain whiplash it. The AFI easily dodged the spike, but it was forced to let up on its unrelenting stream of bullets and flame when the gun drifted to the side.
The form was up and moving, but it wasn’t fleeing as the AFIs expected. Instead, it was advancing straight into the hail of fire still being directed at its chest, with almost all of the bullets slamming right into the person’s chest. Finally, just when the first AFI adjusted its aim and knocked the person’s feet out from underneath it, a black form appeared from the inside of the house, looking more like the moving shadow of a person instead of a person.
The first AFI, instead of hosing the prone form that it had previously been shooting at turned and simply sprayed bullets at the form leaving the house, not really caring about collateral damage. By now, both guns were red-hot, and steam was billowing from the exhaust vents in the coolant lines with each bullet fired. The shadow moved, shifted, and raised a small pistol, which it then fired five times in quick succession. The result was messy, grossly blown out of proportion, and splattered sustenance-laced blood all over the road as all five shots hit the AFI’s chest. Each shot flared into a bright cerulean glare, which literally ripped fist-sized chunks from the AFI’s torso, revealing metal plates and bone underneath. In response, the larger creation simply shrugged, and continued to empty the three linked belts of ammunition from the machine gun at its antagonist.
The shadow had moved again though, getting closer at a steady speed, and continued to fire the pistol at the wounded AFI, but the beleaguered cyborg had ducked back behind some trees, which were subsequently shattered by a flurry of explosive flares of energy. The uninjured AFI continued to hammer away at their primary objective, but both were wondering if they hadn’t just been ordered to their deaths.
Just as the shadow-like form finally moved into the light revealing a black suit and a ski mask, the second AFI’s gun finally jammed, mainly because the barrel had warped into a form of abstract art due to the immense amounts of heat from the near-constant firing for the last two minutes. Both AFIs looked at each other, ignoring the dust, flying brass casings, and smoke floating about, and started to retreat into the park.
The person who had absorbed most of the bullets paused for a second, then pulled a massive rifle from over its left shoulder and aimed carefully at the AFI who still had a working machine gun. The gauss rifle is a unique piece of machinery, for, as it is fired, there is absolutely no muzzle flash. Then the spike, accelerated to Mach 12, flash-heats into a bolt of plasma producing a streak of bright white light that acts like a strobe for almost five hundred yards in every direction. Less than a second later, a thunderclap created by the blast wave of compressed air blew all the grass flat ninety feet in front of the gun.
The first gauss slug from the gun, visible as a streak of white light trailed by close to ten billion sparks, just barely missed the AFI, streaking past its head, and smashing what appeared to be a several-hundred year old tree flat. The second shot, which followed the first almost exactly, ended up smashing right into the AFI’s chest, just below the upper edge of the breastbone. The impact alone staggered the AFI, distracting the immense being, but the burst of plasma also ripped away its skin, revealing the articulated metal plates that acted as sub-dermal armour.
The other AFI was not faring any better. The explosions caused by the pistol’s ammunition were easily punching through the internal armour that guarded its internals and brain, but what finally dropped it was a three-round burst from the pistol, of which the explosions rearranged the alignment of the plates in the AFI’s exceptionally thick skull. It stood there for a few seconds, swaying slightly, then collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut when its body realized ‘Hey! You’re dead!’.
The pistol ceased to bark out its statements, but even when it was speaking, it was near-constantly drowned out completely by the primal, supersonic anger of the gauss rifle’s mauling of the AFI that was still trying to retreat. Much of the skin on its chest had been ripped off, and most of the armour plating underneath was smoking and pitted from the constant pounding that it was taking. The AFI tried to raise its gun, but was battered to its knees by another massive volley from the rifle.
Almost all of the slugs-turned plasma bolts stitched a line of destruction across the AFI’s chest, hammering through the armour and ripping into the soft and vital internal organs that were guarded by the metal ribs underneath the plating. The AFI stopped moving for a second, then was knocked flat by a stream of fire from the rifle, ending only when the magazine of spikes automatically ejected from the stock of the gun.
The smoking remains of the AFI finally stopped twitching as the person rammed another magazine home in the stock of the gun, swivelling to the side to acquire the other AFI in her sights. Upon seeing it was dead, with its brains dribbling out of its shattered head, the person slowly raised the gun towards the sky and safed it by disengaging the coils in the barrel. All around the small field of battle, it looked like the devil’s own janitor had cleaned up. The air was clear, but several houses had lost windows, and of the surviving trees, several had burning branches from near-misses from the gauss slugs. Also, many of the empty bullet casings from the (now decidedly shattered and useless) machine guns had been forcibly embedded into the tree trunks, creating a tracery of brass veins wrapped around the tough wood.
The injured person sighed slightly, letting the gun drop to the gravel pathway beside her. "Well, that’s one reception I don’t want to deal with again. At least I was wearing my dancing clothes." The shadowy person who had hammered the other AFI into bloody scrap muttered something under his breath, and his black clothes changed to an off-white shade, making the person look like he was encased in thermal underwear, gloves, and a ski mask. He then pulled off the gloves and ski mask, and the mustachioed face of Dr. Zack glared down at the still-twitching corpse he had emptied his pistol into.
"Hrrrmph. Even uglier in one piece than when scattered over three autopsy tables. Still, they’re tough as nails, nasty as all hell, and they knew how to retreat. How’d you manage to kill that one over there with only one magazine? The other one that I saw had taken about five hundred shots before being considered deceased."
The woman just shook her head, then let her armour ripple away from her face and hands. However, her right arm, still with the hole that had messily punched through her upper arm, was almost useless now that the rush of energy had passed by, and her left hand was covering a ragged tear in the armour just above the ribline. "Because four pissed off people decided to try and liquify the damn thing before you got your claws into it. Care to get a couple of bandages and an asprin the size of Lake Michigan before I keel over? This hole in my arm will definitely not do much for my health."
Sel’s voice carried quite clearly to Dr. Zack, who walked over to her and examined the still-bleeding puncture. "Looks nasty. What do you need to help heal?"
"Feels worse. But all I need is some bandages, a few hours to rest, and a painkiller. Still, the gashes in my side’ll be more irritating after my arm heals. Hell, even my armour can be battered down to a thin shell in some areas. By the way, you could’ve earned a gold from that."
Dr. Zack smiled slightly, then helped Sel into a standing position. "Well, I’ll get you into my place, then get some bandages and a friend to help you out."
Sel smiled as she let Dr. Zack carefully pull her to her feet. "I’m grateful for the hospitality, but I have things to plan, stunted sadists to kill, and a daughter to take care of. Speaking of such, is she still asleep, and could she stay here for a day or two?" Sel smiled again, letting her real eye speak volumes about how much something like that meant to her.
Dr. Zack hemmed and hawed for a few moments as the two managed to stagger their ways into his house. The first thing he did as Sel faded into unconsciousness was to grab the first aid kit he had hanging on a strap behind the closet door. He then set to work in bandaging her arm and side.
–Somewhere in Northern Meridiana, 6:03 AM–
"Heeerrreee kitty, kitty, kitty. Come on, I won’t hurt you..." The light, wheedling voice continued talking, ignoring the angry hiss of the alley cat that tried to get out of the sheer cul-de-sac that it was trapped in. The voice continued, but was suddenly drowned out by the angry echoing clashing of several trash cans, followed up by several very angry yowls, which were brutally silenced by a dull cracking noise.
"Niiice kitty. You can stay with me. I think I’ll call you Percy." The voice slowly faded away, still talking to itself and its new counterpart, heading slowly north towards the suburbs.
–Jose’s Mansion, 7:20 AM–
Jose had just awakened quite peacefully, and was looking out of one of the massive windows towards the boundary of the forest between his mansion and Meridiana. He still managed to avoid having to head towards the devastated west wing, where Helmut had lived for a while, but was pleased to know that the repairs were proceeding apace for the damaged rooms.
"Now, if only I could find that new commander of that damn team and turn her into my new appetizer. Well, It will only take some patience. After all, not even Cybersix can deal with two AFIs, and that woman must be weaker than father’s ‘failure’."
Jose stopped speaking to himself as his keen eyes picked out something pale moving through the forest, then he smiled. There, at the boundary of the trees, a young girl walked towards the mansion, holding what looked like a mangy cat. However, what caught Jose’s eyes wasn’t the near-nakedness of the girl, who was wearing only a pair of jeans and a ripped-up hospital blouse, but the bright red eyes that suddenly snapped upwards and glared at him.
Just as he began to move away from the unsettling glare, the girl knelt on one knee, still looking at Jose, and spread her arms. "I am yours to command, Von Reichter."
–Dr. Zack’s House, 8:30 AM–
Sel’s eyes snapped open like they were spring-loaded, and she instantly focussed on everything in the room around her. The first thing she noticed was that she was still wearing her armour, and the wounds in her arm and side were quite neatly bandaged up. *Well, remind me to thank Dr. Zack. It looks like the honorific in front of his name is at least partially earned.*
She slowly sat up, letting her armour set itself to its barely ‘live’ form, and continued to study the room she was in. The room was barely twice as large as the bed she was sitting in, but a set of clothes were sitting on a chair, seemingly waiting for her to wear something more comfortable. Sel smiled at the sentiment, and let her armour shut down totally.
Five minutes later, she left the room, looking at herself in a small mirror that was set into part of the wall. She nodded to herself, then caught the tiny red light hidden in the right corner of the mirror. Grinning, she flipped off an instantly-recognisable gesture to the hidden camera, and walked down to the study she had seen the last time she had talked to Dr. Zack, where she met up with her host, as well as Sebena.
Sebena’s reaction was the more surprising of the two, as she just looked at her mother for a few seconds, smiled, and stuck her tongue out. "Sebena! Why would you do that to your mother?"
Sel grinned and shook her head. "I’m guessing she’s just annoyed because she missed the lightshow. Well, you’re going to miss the next one as well, because I like you alive instead of dead." Sel finished addressing her daughter, then turned to her host.
Dr. Zack stood up, and shook Sel’s hand, but stopped when she winced as she accidentally flexed her bad arm. "Ouch. Still, I’m surprised to see you here. After all, don’t you have a day job?"
Dr. Zack grinned, letting his walrus moustache bristle outwards. "Well, I have a good half-hour to make the twenty-minute walk to the school. Besides, I needed to wait to make sure that your charming daughter didn’t break anything."
"I hope she didn’t. Sometimes she’s more destructive than a tornado. I wish that she could have a playmate her age, but, with all the travelling I do, I just haven’t had enough time to settle down and live a normal life with my family."
Dr. Zack frowned, but let his thoughts go unsaid. Sebena cut in with a smile and a sharp poke to her mother’s leg. "Mom, I really don’t care about where we live, so long as you’re alive. Why don’t you go and beat up the bad guys so we can have some fun?"
The response was a shared look between the two adults, followed by a set of smiles. "Out of the mouths of babes, huh? Just wondering doc, but could I use your phone for a bit? I have to call my second, so she can take care of the bean while I finish with some business. Also, if you have any infiltrators in the area, I’d recommend you pull them out before the fireworks start going off. This fight’s going to make Antietam look like a rainy picnic."
The look in Sel’s eyes told Dr. Zack that she wouldn’t brook any arguments, so he just nodded, then turned to the small box she had given him less than two days ago. "Take the pistol you gave me as backup to that rifle you have. It might just save your butt." Sel nodded, then walked into the kitchenette so she could make the calls she wanted.
–Outskirts of Meridiana, 10:20 AM–
The heavy APC’s brakes squealed for a second as the vehicle slewed to a stop at the entrance to the logging road that was one of the three documented paths towards the mansion that was the primary source of the 4G activity in the city. Inside, three people were sitting, and they were looking at each other, mentally hashing out their assigned roles in the upcoming battle. Sel was sitting in the driver’s seat of the APC, with Tsier sitting beside her, systematically arming every weapon system the APC had.
Behind her, Bellinger was checking all the weapons the three people had, and he was loading the three gauss rifles with specialized ammunition that not only went through just about anything solid, but also blew up into a spray of caustic gases on impact. The secondary weapons were the standardized gauss pistols, also loaded with the special ammunition, and Bellinger had taken upon himself to bring along one of the two surviving Man-Portable PPCs for heavy support.
"Well, all we have to do is wait until the infiltrator sends us a flare which tells us he’s in the free and clear, then we get to move in and rip the place to hell." Sel then leaned back in her seat, absently turning off the engine before closing her eyes and listening to the gentle clicks and beeps as the weapons all checked out.
Tsier looked up several minutes later, and grinned. "There’s the flare, boss. Ready to head in?"
"Yep. Just give me five minutes to wake up and we’ll be off. Bellinger, got the guns ready?"
Bellinger grinned. "Yeah. We’re going to blow up the east wing this time? We worked over the west side pretty good last time. I only wish the others were here."
Sel smiled as she opened her eyes just enough to see the slowly falling flare. "Both sides and the middle. This is calling for a scorched-earth policy, and we get to go there, blast the place to tiny, bloody bits, and make sure that the only survivors are the microbes. Also, everyone else is busy keeping the peace back in the city, and the other three APCs are posted to the other exits to cut down any escapees."
The two men chuckled, stopping only when Sel leaned forwards and started the big engine up, ready to drive into the forest. She grinned, then fired off one of her infamous quips. "Hey, Kemosabe. Bite me."