Weaving through the buildings to find a place where he could come out on the street, Dave felt the most relaxed he’d been all day. He could almost pretend he was a kid walking through his friend’s apartment building for a slumber party again, and not about to launch what could well be a suicide mission. The halls weren’t even that much dirtier and run-down than that one friend’s...shit...what was his name...Frankie? Damn, he hadn’t thought of Frankie in years...hopefully that wasn’t a sign, like his life flashing before his eyes.
All too fast, the door to the street loomed before him, and he stepped out onto the cracked pavement. He let out a breath.
“Nervous?” Anton asked beside him.
Clearing his throat, Dave nodded.
“Good. You’re not in shock, it means.” Anton nodded back.
“I find that just taking a nice, long breath and letting it out can be helpful.” Twilight chimed between them, her hooves tapping on the concrete.
Dave’s half-lidded eyes slowly rolled to her beaming gaze.
“Like this!” She announced, demonstrating with a foreleg going to her chest and fanning out at her next breath.
“That’s...very nice, young miss.” Anton looked up to Dave, shrugging. With a sigh, Dave locked eyes with her, and returned the breath, mimicking her same motion. That seemed to satisfy her, a smile lighting up her adorable features. Granted, it did calm some of the shaking in Dave’s hands.
“Okay…” he let out a breath, looked at the others. He gazed over his shoulder, where Lisa smiled and nodded to him. He let out another breath, turned back to the pair. Anton was stepping back, having knotted the end of a ratty old rope around Twilight’s neck. Her eyes rolled up to meet his, and with a final nod, one that seemed to put an end to all the delaying and waiting, they took a step around the corner, heading towards the entrance of the complex.
Immediately, Twilight’s head bowed as he and Anton walked along, pulling balaclavas over their faces. Dave had to admit, she certainly looked the part to him. But would she look that way to a couple of terrorist psychos?
Yes. Yes, she would. She had to.
The pavement crunching under the combat boots he’d scavenged from a dead UN mook up the street, David’s heart pounded in his chest. The guards barely even moved as they approached, their heads turning just enough to watch them draw near. Somehow, that made it all the worse, giving Dave the impression of walking up on a half-asleep bear, knowing that it was just watching you now, but at any moment it could turn and turn you into jelly with a single swipe of its paw.
As they neared, Dave realized there was no way to calm down, no way to stop the shaking in his hands. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He suddenly took Twilight’s rope, walking a little faster, only pausing when the guard held up a bandaged hand to stop him.
“Hey man, c’mon,” he gasped, his breath wheezing in and out in a way he hoped looked like excitement. “We gotta get in there.”
“Woah there,” the guard broke into a smile. “Dude, where do you think you’re going?”
“To the commander, gotta show this off!” He held Twilight’s rope up, hauling her maybe an inch or two off her front hooves. “C’mon man, look at it! I bet he ain’t seen nothin’ like this before!”
“Hold up,” the other guard stepped forward, an older-looking black guy who’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Why ain’t you already inside with the others?”
Dave’s heart leapt into his throat. “What…?” He squeaked, then an answer practically materialized in his head. “’Cause we were too busy tying this thing up, man, c’mon! You ever seen a little one with horns and wings!?”
The older guard’s smile faded, but the younger turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “Gotta say, I ain’t. That’s definitely different.”
“C’mon, this is big, probably huge!” Dave gasped, not needing to fake the desperation in his voice. “I gotta tell somebody, anybody!”
The older man’s eyes now straight-up narrowed, and Dave couldn’t help his trembling hand drifting closer to his holster. “How come I ain’t seen you around before?”
This time, the lie came to him in an instant: “What, you think we’re UN!? How many white dudes do you see hauling one of these technicolor freaks around out here!?”
That finally broke him, his gaze softening. A short guffaw escaped the older man’s lips. “Hell, you gotta point there!” He chuckled as he finally, mercifully, waved them through.
They shared nods, Dave hurrying them through into the waiting, flapping corridor. Their boots clattered over metal and crunched gravel, and then, they turned a corner and were through. A breath he didn’t know he’d been holding left David’s chest.
“Alright, we’re in…” Anton gasped.
“And now?” Twilight whispered.
“Now, we see how far we can take it.” Dave hissed back. They were already being followed. To his left, something rattled the scaffold supports. To his right, a thud sounded.
“We got another one, boys!” A voice called out as a whoop rose from the shadows around them. Dave let out a breath. The others could start any day now...any time…
Someone scrambled up from some scaffolding to his right, pulling himself up to smile at them. “Damn son, didn’t know princesses came in fun size!” He guffawed.
“Aheh, yeah…” Dave said, sweat gathering under the balaclava.
The man’s eyebrows hunched. “Hey man, where you from? Not sure I know your voice.”
“Uhhh...yeah, I’m one of the newer guys, haven’t had much time to get t’know everyone.” His hand drifted to the holster.
“Well, why dontcha take off the mask? I’m sure everyone wants to get to know the guy who hauled in a princess with just one other dude.” The man turned to Anton, and frowned. “Hey man, I really should know you. You look like one of the old-timers. Whatcha doin’ out there?”
Dave’s grip tightened. Anton’s Russian accent would give them away in a heartbeat, and he had no idea if these people would recognize his face. Sure, he might just have been another UN stooge back at the camp, but the odds of it were too--
A loud explosion sounded from the corridor behind them, followed by a burst of gunfire. “Shitfuck! UN found us already!?” The man pulled a pistol out, apparently from thin air, as a couple of riflemen ran past, shoving by without even acknowledging Twilight. “Get that little bitch inside! We’ll handle this!”
Like clockwork... head spinning at his own luck, Dave jogged ahead, Anton bringing up the rear as Twilight trotted to keep up. After a few more steps, he let out a breath. “Anyone else almost piss themselves there?”
“Almost,” Twi gasped.
“Children, please,” Anton chortled as they rushed along, deeper into the twisting maze.
When the first explosion hit, the Old Man had to pause. He’d only made a few more slight incisions in the cunt’s face and already had her quivering like jelly. Sure, she kept up a brave face, he’d give her that, but she wasn’t too good at keeping the quiver from her wings or the tears from her eyes. Then the compound creaked with a roaring explosion, and he realized something was very wrong.
Cursing, he tossed the scalpel aside, already turning for the door. “Watch her!” He shouted at Jimmy.
“Wait...dontcha need help!?” Jimmy shouted back, always the loyal soldier. It made the Old Man grin even as he undid the clasp on his hip holster.
“Watching her’s more important! I’m not risking it when we’re this close! I’m countin’ on ya!” The Old Man turned, smiled at Jimmy, and Jimmy smiled back with an easy little nod. For a second there, he thought he saw a little unsure shake in that nod, but the Old Man chalked it up to nerves. They were very close to writing their names in the annals of history, after all, nerves were to be expected.
He slammed the door behind him and rushed through the halls, his M1911 clenched in his hands. He brushed past a couple of guys in the hall, barely registering the small equine shape between them as he barreled ahead. Along the way, the Jap fell in at his side. “How did they find us so fast!?” He growled in his heavy accent.
“I have no idea.” The Old Man rumbled back.
“Someone on your side fucked up.”
“How do we know it’s not your side!?”
Their bickering stopped as a fighter slammed back into the corridor ahead of them, two holes in his chest. Cursing, the Old Man popped around the corner, letting off a few shots, ducking back as a couple more rounds whizzed by in response. A shell-shocked fighter fell to his side, eyes wide, breath heaving, surplus Kevlar vest covered in blood.
“You!” The Old Man bellowed, grabbing him by the vest. “The hell’re we doing here, getting potshots taken at us like a buncha amateurs!? The hell aren’t we pushing for!?”
“Th-They gotta sniper, sir!” The kid gasped. “Pecks off anyone what pokes their head out, dude’s a fuckin’ madman!”
The Old Man rolled his eyes, a vein in his temple pulsing as he gripped the kid’s shoulder. “Then why in the hell are we sitting here and not flushing him out!?”
The kid just stared back, eyes wide. Another shot cracked into the burning ruin behind him. The Old Man grumbled, dragging the kid back down another corridor. The shoulder in his grip relaxed, right until they found another group of fighters, weapons leveled, aimed out of any hole they could find and remain relatively safe. Or so they thought, until a crack sounded and another fighter’s shoulder disappeared in a spray of blood.
“You, and you!” The Old Man pointed at a couple of random fighters in the cluster, who stared back, wide-eyed. “You’re gonna flush that sniper out, with the help of your friend here!”
The pair, coming to terms with the random selection, slowly gazed up at him. “B-but sir…”
“Did I fucking stammer!?” He shoved the shivering mass that was supposed to be a soldier at their feet. “You’ll do as I say and we will un-fuck this situation!”
After a moment the trio, still staring at the Old Man, slowly nodded.
“The hell is that look for!? This is your moment, the day we’ve been waiting for!” The Old Man bellowed, clapping his hands on their shoulders. “Now get out there and make me proud!”
With another round of nods, more forceful this time, the group turned to make its way back down the corridor, towards the flaming wreck that used to be the front door. They moved with the purpose trained into them, but their legs shook like men being marched to the execution chamber. They paused just before the flames at the front, gazing at the street before them. One of them gazed back over his shoulder.
“Someone gimme a smoke!” The Old Man shouted, holding his hand out behind him without even looking back. A canister appeared there, and he gripped it tight. “Covering fire!”
As a renewed volley of rounds sounded out behind him, he yanked the pin on the grenade and rolled it out, watching a flood of yellow smoke geyser up into the street. One of the trio looked back, but this time a smile appeared on their face. The Old Man gave a thumbs up. Apparently, that was enough, as the trio broke out into a dead run across the street.
When the smoke finally cleared, the Old Man grinned to see two fighters at the door, only one laying in the street in a pool of blood. The shots still echoed out behind him and calls for more ammo sounded around him, but now they could teach that bastard sniper what-for. He grinned his yellowed grin at the two remaining fighters. Both men looked at eachother, then back at the door, raising their rifles, stepping towards it, kicking it in, ready to show these smurfs what they were fucking with…
And then a towel-head appeared from nowhere and sliced their throats open.
It happened so fast, the Old Man barely had time to piece together what was happening when a brown blur materialized in his view, that fucking towel the only thing he could see from where he stood. There was a flash of silver, and a couple geysers of red. The first kid he’d recruited for this mission turned back to him again, his shirt already soaked in blood as he stumbled out into the street, his rifle clattering to the ground behind him. He reached out for the Old Man, eyes wide and desperate, and collapsed halfway across, right next to the body of his comrade.
“Welp…” the Old Man sighed, turning to the Jap as he stepped deeper into the compound, “At the very least, we confirmed there’s more than one of ‘em.”
“A fireteam!?” His Japanese compatriot shouted.
“Maybe...didn’t get a good look.” He grimaced. “Could be one, could be more, but they’re trained.”
“UN.”
“Probably.” The Old Man growled as more of his fighters appeared from deeper in the site. He waved them along, ordering them to the front immediately. The street outside filled with the rattle of gunfire, with the occasional thud of an explosive. “Whoever they are, we’ve got it under control.”
“As far as you can tell.” The Jap turned away as the Old Man grimaced. “How do we know they’re not hitting us from a different side?”
The Old Man opened his mouth, then he stopped. His jaw dropped. His eyes widened. “Why aren’t they pushing?” He gasped.
The Jap turned back. “What!?”
“Why aren’t they pushing? Why don’t we have people charging us? Why is there only one gunman as far as we know? Why aren’t they trying to sneak in?”
That did it. The Japanese man’s eyes widened.
In a flash, the Old Man reached into the dark, grabbing a cowering rifleman by the collar of his uniform jacket. “You! Anyone report anything strange!? Anyone besides who we got here walk through this door!?”
The rifleman’s eyes were wide, his answer coming in a stammer: “Y-yeah, a couple of our guys! They had another princess with ‘em!”
“Another…” the Old Man’s eyes widened. He turned at the same time as the Jap. “Fuckin’ A-, you gotta be kiddin’ me.”
“They’re still alive. The UN people.” The Jap gasped with him. “And that means…”
“This is a distraction.” The Old Man nodded, glaring back down the hallway. “You hold things down here. I’ll go finish our business with the princess. UN’ll be fighting for a corpse.”
The Jap nodded, eyes narrowing. “Don’t fuck this up again.” He hissed.
The Old Man glared, but turned back down the hall, knowing there was no time to argue as he shot back towards the cell.