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Seviryn led them a good ten minutes in silence through the alleys and backstreets towards the parking structure where Alex’s bike was parked. They finally paused beneath the cover of darkness and shadows within sight of the building, taking a moment to consider what they should do next. There were two security droids stationed at the entrance, and two more at the stairwell leading to the upper levels. Seviryn suddenly wished he had a scope or some binoculars to look through to make sure there were no more soldiers or droids hidden inside where it was impossible to see from where he was.

He hoped the brunt of NOAH’s forces were being committed to chasing the set of shiny keys Cael was nice enough to provide, jingling off in the distance towards Main street. Well… there was really only one way to find out, so Seviryn took another moment to check and make sure all of his guns were loaded, then started to move towards a position where he’d have a better line of fire when Alex pulled him back.

“Dude, what if there are more?”

“I imagine I’ll be shootin’ them tae. Look, Alex, I kent see from here an I don’t have a scope or anythin’,” he explained quietly, then started to move only to be stopped once again by Alex.

“What if we try some… diplomacy? You know, instead of causing a huge commotion?” Seviryn paused, shrugged, then pulled out the Colt .45 he’d obtained from Alex and flipped the safety off.

“Well, I’ll have tae get a little close fa me likin’ t’use ‘Diplomacy’ but I think tha surprise factor will gimme tha edge,” he nodded in agreement, then stood to move. Alex pushed him back down with a wide eyed expression. “Wha’ now?”

“That’s not what I meant! I was thinking we should try… negotiation instead of drawing attention to ourselves,” he explained, trying to choose his words carefully. Seviryn shrugged again, thrusting the Colt into Alex’s hands and shouldering his P90.

“Well ‘Negotiation’ is a little light fa the armored droids, but I brought plenty of ammo fa it. Volume ovah precision. I like where ya head is at!” He grinned, but was once again stopped by Alex, who stabbed him with an annoyed glare.

“I meant try a little mercy!”

“Oh…”

“Yeah!” Alex huffed. A moment of relief passed into Alex’s eyes when he thought he’d made his brother understand precisely what he meant.

“Ya want me tae use tha big gun! Why didn’t ya just say so?” Alex gaped at him for a long moment while he positioned the P90 so he could pull it up easily but it wouldn’t be in his way, and shouldered the .50 caliber Beowulf.

“You can’t tell me you dove head first into this with your only strategy being ‘shoot it until it stops moving, try not to let it shoot me, and let the detectives sort out the details?!’”

“It’s a solid plan!” Seviryn stared back at his brother with that expression that said: “I don’t see what the problem is” before finishing his check on the weapon. “Look jest stick close an’ when I give ya tha signal… skootch ya bootch up tae tha bike an’ bring ‘er down tae tha entrance.”
“Okay, so what’s the signal… never mind, I’m sure it won’t be hard to figure out,” he said, rolling his eyes and finally letting Seviryn move into a better position.

It wasn’t long before Seviryn found a cozy place behind a beat up steel dumpster to hole up behind and Alex had hidden himself somewhere in the shadows… he was good at that. Seviryn peered over the top of the dumpster for a long moment before he took aim. POW! The head one of the droids exploded into shrapnel, and there was a large divot in the cement behind it where the bullet had continued through. POW! He demolished the second one near the stairwell before the droids triangulated his position and began to return fire. The two by the entrance sought cover and fired at him from behind cement pillars, and there was a cacophony of sound and lights as dozens of droids inside the structure activated and began closing in.

Seviryn picked off the ones that stayed in the open for more than a few seconds, and stayed crouched behind the dumpster as the symphony of impacts rang against the far side of it, sometimes spraying dust and gravel down upon him when the bullets bit into the brick and stucco of the building beside him. He peeked out from the side of the dumpster, looking for an opportunity to shoot again, and flinching every time a bullet caromed off the street or the steel close to him. He peered upwards farther into the structure, seeing the odd muzzle flash, and the glint of steel against the moonlight. There was a pause in the gunfire, and Seviryn popped out, hitting a droid that was making a break across the open center mass and knocking it into the one coming up behind it. He shot it twice more in the chest and once through the head, nearly demolishing the second one as well. When it pulled itself free of the wreckage, he sent a bullet through its neck assembly and knocked the head flying into the air.
He was quickly sent behind cover as a barrage of bullets rained down upon him, but he’d got their attention once again, or at least pissed off enough of them for Alex to slip by and gun down or slice up the ones that got in his way. His ears perked at the sound of an engine roar to life and tires squeal on pavement. He peered out enough to watch a light race through the structure and down the ramps, and Alex streak past the entrance and around the corner. Seviryn began making his way towards the back of the alley and was met shortly by Alex, who stopped just short of the alley entrance.

“It’s about time!”

“Shut up! Do you know how many were in there?”

Seviryn threw the Beowulf around on its strap to get it out of his way and caught the helmet that was roughly thrown at him with a sigh. He really didn’t like motorcycles, but there didn’t seem to be a better option. He pulled it on and straddled the older model Hyabusa behind his brother, gripping a handle tightly with one arm while the other held the P90 in a firing position.

“You won’t have enough leverage holding on to that, grab me around my waist and hold tight!”

“Ya know, I donnae think I’m comfortable enough with me sexuality tae be holdin’ ya like this,” he muttered as he reluctantly shifted his grip to around his brother’s waist.

Alex grinned and slapped the face guard of his helmet down before turning them around. He sped through the alleys nimbly until he found a suitable place to exit where the droids from the structure couldn’t immediately fire upon them, and in moments they were screaming down the road. Seviryn fought to keep control of his stomach as they rode, occasionally firing bursts from his P90 at the blurry objects he recognized as soldiers whipping past them at speeds he wasn't sure he wanted to know about... especially not with Alex carving up the roads like he was. In moments they burst out onto Main Street, and rather than shoot at the soldiers, Seviryn chose to cling to Alex for dear life. They were still a good ways behind the truck, but with Alex driving... they were gaining ground very very fast.

“Hey!” Her eyes fell on the guy lying in the bed, “They want to know if you have any rockets back there? Also, Cael has this awesome plan,” not really, she thought, “which includes us going right down Main Street where the entire Turpis Militia will be waiting for us with lots of guns and rockets and death.” She suddenly smiled, “Just thought you’d like to know! Better prepare yourself.”

Oh fuck... Shale thought.

He yelled back at the girl, he remembered that her name was Emma, “I got some 40mm grenades so far. It looks like there’s a LAW launcher in the back here too… I see a couple RPG’s. Say three of them.”

Hey, she’s kinda’ cute… Shale noted. Not now, focus Shale. Gotta get ready to face off the rest of the Turpis Military…

Shale set down his SCAR and duck out the RPG launcher and lay it on top of the ghillie net. His M107 lay next to him, for the moment. He dragged out the three RPGs and lay them next to the launcher. Next, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a 40mm grenade, slotting it into the EGLM on his SCAR. He checked the mag and saw it was still full of 5.56 rounds.

Just as he finished, the truck swerved around the corner and came onto Main Street. The display of force was quite clear to Shale, but it seemed superficial. There looked to be quite a few security droids, lots of militiamen, and few choppers. Strangely, there were two tanks. He set himself up behind the truck’s cab with a loaded RPG and sighted in on the tank and waited.

“I’ll wait for your signal Cael,” Shale yelled. “Better hurry!” In his mind, he thought, This is suicide!!!

The skies had already turned dark more than an hour ago and the clock read a quarter before 10. Special Forces demolitionist Jacob Lei felt uneasy about escaping Turpis this night, but knew he only had one shot at removing the chip and one shot to get away. If he didn't pull the plug now, he'd never get another chance, and if he blew this opportunity, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. It was time to cut the bullshit and rip that damn chip out for good. There were no missions tonight, no assigned training routines or any work to accomplish around the compound, which made this particular night one word, perfect. "No turning back now," Jacob thought, brushing his black hair back in determination. Flicking out his pocket knife and raising it to a point along the side of his neck, Jacob took a deep breath, gripping the knife tightly as he stared at his mirror complexion. He always knew there was a chip at the side of his neck and that it monitored the calibrations and position of every human being under NOAH jurisdiction. There was not another moment to spare and he knew that once he removed the chip, his special forces status would immediately terminate followed with a special protocol to locate his body. Most likely NOAH authorities would hunt him until either he or they were dead, but he was willing to take the risk.

Exhaling calmly, Jacob took a few deep breaths before placing one finger below the square shaped outline along the left side of his neck and his knife above it, using a precise flick with his wrist to carefully cut a small slit. Delicately and swiftly, he pushed the chip out, placing his knife on the counter quickly after he'd made the cut. There was very little blood that actually seeped from the wound and he felt almost no pain as he took the necessary force to yank the small square object from its position along his neck. What little blood that did seep out was quickly dispatched with the appliance of his two right fingers along the outer areas of the cut and a swift appliance of a soft gauze pad dampened with alcohol. The delicacy with which Jacob had attended to the wound had stemmed the bleeding efficiently enough to prevent excessive blood loss, which enabled him to sew the wound shut. That was finished in less than 3 minutes, after which he crushed the chip with his fist and quietly flushed the pieces down the toilet. "2 words, suck it," Jacob said angrily throwing his left index and middle finger at the NOAH emblems along the bathroom walls. He'd spent the last decade of his life killing for NOAH and there was little else he did other than to destroy the lives of others. The removal and destruction of the chip also meant the removal and destruction of his obligation to serve NOAH. It was calmly reassuring to know that he would no longer follow someone else's ruthless agenda and the first thing he did was check his watch, which read 10:00 pm.

"Huh, that was quick," he observed as he exited the bathroom, "Well, show time." With a sly smirk, the ex-special forces demolitionist quietly wiped his knife down with paper towels, flushed the paper towels down the toilet, walked to his locker, and with determination, climbed in. There wasn't any sense in walking out the front door, especially when there were armed guards with identity guns and chip motion sensors scattered along all the major entrance ways. He felt a little sad that he could not use any of the useful vehicles that NOAH had in stock, but knew that even if he were to hijack a C-117 Globe master, 2 of which lay on the tarmac on the other side of base, there was no way he could ram a plane into a his objectives and avoid killing innocent civilians. He wanted to minimize the loss of life while hindering as much of NOAH's authoritarian power as possible. To do otherwise would defeat the point of even resisting because if he killed innocent civilians, he would be no different from the authorities that ran the NOAH regime. He wanted no part in anymore of NOAH's schemes and to flee Turpis in secrecy. There were no security cameras inside the barracks locker rooms and no surveillance cameras inside special forces lockers, which made it more practical to escape through his own locker than through the front door. Behind his locker wall, he was fortunate enough to have access to a network of pipes and it was through the pipe gaps that he would sneak his way out of base. The pipes were complex and the gaps between different pipelines proved narrow, but Jacob knew how to find his way around; he always did and he'd spent the last few months exploring the best gaps to maneuver around. Provided that tonight was a night of little activity, the pipes would never excrete much steam, which made navigation immensely less difficult. This proved to be the case and Jacob soon found himself climbing into one of the upper storage facilities of ordinance supply depot G3536.

The Vishnarajan barracks were located close to ODP-G3536, where supply weenies regularly loaded and transported supplies to different sectors of Turpis. Experience and common sense over the years had told him that the supply weenies barely spent a lengthy period of time in G3536 other than to load spare parts into their assigned transport vehicles. Any weenie assigned to supply duty wasn't too bright since it required nothing more than just lugging heavy containers from sector to sector, which left most supply depots in the company of moronic muscle men. There was no reason for Jacob to concern himself with being caught for suspicious activities and after navigating through the rooms, Jacob paused for a moment as he reached a scheduled check list of the arrival times and destinations of all supply shipments. One of the scheduled arrivals was due in a few minutes and the intended pick ups were a couple of large containers of power cables that were destined for the main power plant deeper into Turpis. "That's my ticket in," Jacob thought, grinning as he climbing into one of the power cable containers. What better way was there than to sneak in through the resupply containers? It was a free lift and provided that no one opened the container he'd curled inside, it was gave him guaranteed access to the power plant without the ugly business of slitting throats, trashing security tin cans, and attracting an unhealthy sea of machine gun fire. In less than a minute, the room with which he entered opened and the container he'd curled inside lifted with the sounds of grunting and groaning.

Jacob remained silent throughout the whole transit and controlled his breathing to reserve as much air as possible. All would go according to planned once he actually reached the power plant and once the power was down, Cael would have a much easier time transporting the women and children out of Turpis. Jacob had planned this for months, separate from Cael's own knowledge, studying the supply routes and the architectural plans of Turpis' main power generator. Cael was going to need a lot more than just picking the right time for a break out and if Jacob pitched in himself, the results would greatly increase survival. There wasn't any sense in bringing along any materials, especially when they'd just slow him down. Besides, he'd already hidden caches of explosives in the power plant and it just made life a lot easier to hide them in a safe spot than to risk bringing them along. As Jacob waited quietly, a sudden and violent thud dazed his head as the supply hands heaved his container into the back of a truck; his head began to spin, but after a few seconds, the numbness began to subside. In no time at all, the truck began to move and off towards its destination. Once he arrived, he'd pay back all the lives he was forced to take and the destruction of property he caused. He kept running his plan over as the truck moved onwards and throughout the journey, it was no less bumpy than it was without incident. The ride was calmly relaxing in its own way and he was sad when the truck came to an utter halt, wanting the journey to continue. He heard doors slam and the creaking whine of hinges as the truck safety boards were thrown down.

"10:18 pm," he observed, checking his watch as his container began to move, "I'm impressed. Never seen weenies move this fast." The security guards patted down the supply hands as usual and it took a moment before the security bots finally scanned them down. Finally, after a few tense moments, the security bots finished scanning the supply hands down, allowing them the clearance they needed to move again. Jacob's container was left completely unchecked and as usual, the bots never checked the container for any dangerous materials ... or humans. This was all to Jacob's advantage and he smiled as the supply hands began moving through automated doors, down flights of stairs, and through corridors before they dumped his container onto the ground. Waiting patiently, Jacob lay completely still for a few moments before lifting the lid an inch. The area was dark and the supply hands were nowhere to be seen, probably assigned to unload other ordinance supplies in whatever godlessly monotonous resupply assignment that dictated the rest of their shifts. Where ever they went was now irrelevant to his current situation because he had no idea where he was. Time was slowly ticking away and if he didn't move soon, he'd lose his only chance to blow Turpis' power. Silently, he flipped on his pocket light and found himself searching a room filled with power couplers. "Alright, where did you bastards put me," he thought, swinging the small pocket light along the walls. Suddenly he heard footsteps down the hallway and quickly dove behind a stack of containers, controlling his breath as he dropped to the floor. The voices came uncomfortably close, but they soon died away, allow the ex-special forces demolitionist a short moment to catch his breath.

He waited a few more moments in case other unexpected annoyances appeared before switching on his pocket light again to find out where he was. After a few moments of searching he found an information sign along the room's entrance way, which read "F-Wing Storage Compartment Y28." This was very good news and it meant that his explosives cache was only a floor down. Silently, the ex-special forces demolitionist ran his plan through one more time before closing the lid to his container and stalking out into the shadows of the narrowly lit hallway. After climbing down another set of stairs, he began to notice the ever increasing presence of security cameras and the appearance of security guards. It was time to find his explosives catch; if he was caught in the open wearing his Special forces black leather jacket with nothing, but his bare fists, his chances of accomplishing his objective were lowered by 60%, and most dangerous of all, he'd completely lose his element of surprise. Quietly, he began to time his dashes as he entered security camera ridden hallways, diving for cover when the cameras rolled his way, then sweeping out once they reached their blind spots.

Timing was especially tricky and the presence of the human foot patrols made evasion a nuisance. Through the knowledge he'd learned in training, combat awareness was a key component to survival, regardless of any amount of guns or weapons that were available on any given mission. Combat awareness saved his ass on almost every occasion and there was no sense in not utilizing the available supply crates and empty storage rooms for cover while he maneuvered undetected through the hallways. In several encounters, Jacob could not find any cover and it was only his awareness of some nearby supply containers that allowed him was wedging himself in before any security camera or foot patrol person saw him. He evaded every close encounter, maneuvering steadily, quickly, precisely, and with utter silence, delivering himself undetected through the lower hallways. Soon, he found his demo charges, packed neatly in a large tool box he'd hidden behind a hole in a forgotten wall mounted first aid box. The last time he'd last infiltrated the power generator was months ago and it was during that time period that he'd found the hole behind the wall mounted first aid kit with which to hide the toolbox. No one had tampered with the first aid box, let alone acknowledged that highly deadly explosive charges lay behind it and all his charges were largely still in their sealed packages; awaiting unwrapping.

Jacob didn't know if it was luck or his advanced training, but apparently he'd moved remarkably quick thus far. He intended to reach his objective without drawing attention and to do so, he knew even before he'd entered the facility that he needed a disguise. Silently, the ex-special forces demolitionist crept into a dark corner to fit into the white electrician's jumpsuit he'd also hidden months before behind the wall mounted first aid kit. Without an outfit and a security clearance card, maneuvering with his Vishnarajan black jacket and camo plants was suicide and seeing as how there were security cameras in every corridor, that meant bad news for anyone sneaking around after 10 pm without a uniform. The fact that the lower facility levels were under tight surveillance was proof enough for Jacob to don an outfit and he knew that he'd need a safe area to change. That was resolved months ago and he remembered selecting the wall mounted first aid kit as a hiding place because there was a nearby janitor's closet that was blocked from the view of the security cameras overlooking the hallway. In less than a minute, he had outfitted himself with the electricians jump suit, folded his Black Demon clothing, and donned the appearance of nerdy Turpis electrician by the time he was under surveillance. Now came the part where he was to locate and enter the generator's mainframe. He found the entrance elevator leading down to the mainframe in less than 2 minutes and waved to the plant technicians to mask his unwarranted presence. Few of the technicians actually waved back, so absorbed in their own work that they hardly looked anywhere else.

Pleased with the lack of attention he was paid, Jacob slid his stolen clearance card into the security lock, where he gained access to a main frame elevator. Locating the main frame was a piece of cake, but once he actually entered the main frame room, he'd be under surveillance the moment he stepped in. There were likely security guards down there as well, but according to the time, which read exactly 10:30 pm, the security bots were in the process of switching, leaving the guards to fend for themselves at this part of the night shift. That meant that at most 2 or 3 security guards with semi-automatic pistols were detailed for the protection of the entire main frame. Formulating a plan, Jacob grabbed the revolver he'd concealed within the tool box, and waited patiently for the elevator to reach the bottom. As the elevator neared its destination, Jacob shoved himself to the elevator's side, glancing along the mirror panel ajacent to the elevator's double doors for view of the outside. As he stared into the complexion, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. There was only a one lonely security guard standing watch and the poor guy had his back turned to the elevator. Either the man was oblivious to any recent arrivals or he was asleep. Upon closer observation, he heard loud snores, giving evidence that the man was asleep.

"Keep dreaming," the ex-special forces demolitionist thought, "You won't feel a fucking thing." Without another word, Jacob pushed the revolver wheel out, placing 3 explosive rounds in 3 separate chambers and followed with the placement of a powerful knock out dart. Pushing the wheel back, he screwed a silencer onto the revolver's barrel aimed precisely before he fired all of his shots. The first 3 shots hit all 3 security cameras monitoring the room, punching straight through their lens' with successful results. The fourth shot hit the security officer straight in the neck, causing the man to drop to the floor. With the cameras sparking and sputtering in severe cases of malfunction and the security guard unconscious, this left Jacob the freedom he needed to rig the main frame without fear of discovery. "Much better," he said, placing the smoking pistol back in the tool box. No other living being was present and with the security bots changing shifts, that left him roughly 10 minutes of freedom to rig the room, set the explosives, and leave before the droids returned. He quickly set to work with the explosives he'd brought, moving about the massive room with finesse and speed. Part of the cut was cutting the C4 and he loved separating them into chunks. The clay like condition of C4 had allowed an unprecedented number of ways to utilize its effectiveness and it could be molded into any shape the user intended. Half way through rigging one of the biggest processing units, Jacob pulled the green dart out of the unconscious security guard's neck, bound his hands and legs in plastic wires and carefully shoved the man into to a nearby locker. He then turned and began placing cut slabs of demolition charges all around the other the massive machines and computer systems, unwrapping the nice plastic that surrounded his charges. By the time he had finished, he'd rigged more explosives than was ever needed to blow the systems, even squishing a few slabs of C4 into the gaps of the elevator as well as the door entrance leading to the facility's stairway. He wasn't taking any chances and wanted the whole generator to go offline as soon as the charges detoned. Along with that, he wanted the *all* access ways leading to the mainframe blocked off. NOAH had made his life and the lives of others difficult so he wanted to make NOAH's life difficult in return. By blowing out the mainframe *and* making repair attempts to be exceedingly difficult, this would not only put the NOAH regime in a world of hurt, it would put them in a world of hell.

Grinning proudly at his progress, Jacob glanced over the 20 packs of C4 and other highly dangerous materials strapped along the main frame's machinery to double check for any areas he'd missed. After that finished, he then proceeded with accomplishing the final tasks, which were to set up the timers and release the countdown. The entire process of rigging the mainframe took less than 6 minutes and after releasing the timers from a 10 minute countdown, Jacob grabbed his tool box, exiting the room through the staircase. Carefully he chose his routes, making his way through various shortcuts until he found a room with a ladder leading up to a giant hub cab. It was one of the forgotten service ladders leading to one of the power facility's helicopter pads and it had not been used in quite sometime. This was his ticket out because up above, lay 4 emergency helicopters that the power plant housed in case of a major disaster. NOAH protocol demanded that the massive power facility at least house 20 emergency helicopters and each chopper was to be checked for any malfunctions every few months. In the time of that each helicopter went under maintenance and review, a fresh replacement helicopter was cycled in by NOAH air technicians so that the power plant always housed 20 helicopters to evacuate its workers. Jacob knew this and specifically chose the closest cycle day to Cael's break out so that he could hide weapons, rations, medicine, ammunition, and water in the storage compartments of one of the helicopters. The power plant used a Sikorsky S-92 to evacuate workers in case of a meltdown or accident and contained both medical equipment and medicine in case injured workers required immediate transportation to medical facilities. Because of safety protocol, helicopter pads also were required to be located all over the massive facility to avoid traffic jams and collisions in case of a major disaster occurring. Jacob was aware of this built in security measure and months back, he knew that if he was to rig the main frame, that he would need to find the quickest route to a helicopter pad if he was to stay in one piece.

He checked his watch again, which read 10:42 pm. It took surprisingly less time to rig the main frame than he'd anticipated and he'd set the charges 5 minutes ago. That gave him roughly 5 minutes to get to on one of the Sikorsky S-92's and fly the hell out away. He remembered the code number of the Sikorsky S-92 he'd hidden all his weapons and supplies in and its model number was J77. There was no way he could move past the nearest helicopter terminal, without all those security guards wearing kevlar vests and armed with uzis, security cameras, and security droids noticing. No, Jacob took a different route, one that lead him directly onto the middle of the pad and away from the packs of security guards that infested the terminals. He began to steadily climb the ladder and once he reached the top, slowly and steadily, he moved the hub cap a fraction. After a quick peek through the slit, he quickly concluded that there were 12 security guards on duty and 5 security cameras watching the perimeter. Common sense told him to wait 3 more minutes until the power short circuited, to which he patiently. What happened next was both a moment of glee and pure suddenness as a loud rumble echoed from down below. Immediately after the rumbling stopped, Jacob raised the large hubcap again to see just how much devastating had been inflicted.

The lights along the helicopter terminal flickered for a moment, followed by those of some nearby building. Then, like dominoes, the lights flickered off for good. It was time to leave and Jacob waited until the security guards were gone before gleefully lifting the hub cab over the side. The area was pitch black, it was the perfect time for his getaway; quietly sliding the hubcap back over the service tunnel, he sprinted for emergency chopper J77 reaching the helicopter in no time. After a quick check of the compartments, he climbed into the pilot's seat and threw on a helmet, flipping switches as he checked his joystick and gauge meters. Firing up the top rotor blades took roughly 3 minutes to reach full spin and soon Jacob was ready to lift off. No doubt, NOAH authorities were wondering what the hell was going on and why the power had suddenly switched off. That was too bad for them because Jacob was already gaining altitude, flying higher and higher into the sky by the time anyone knew that one of their emergency helicopters were missing. He had just flown a half mile out when he saw plumes of smoke near Turpis' main entrance, immediately proceeding to jerked the flight joystick left. He switched the radio on, but was greeted with static and as the helicopter moved closer, he noticed a number of fires and smoke trailing from the streets. Apparently someone had been busy making life merry hell for NOAH and as he flew onwards, he saw a the smoldering remains of an attack helicopter along one of the streets. "What the hell," Jacob whispered as he flew over the wreckages of police vehicles and burning fires.

Lowering the helicopter's speed, he set the Sikorsky on a hover mode to take a quicker look at the situation. In the pitch black, he saw many bodies of burnt police officers and evidence of a firefight that had taken place not too long ago. In front of the police vehicle wreckages stood a dark alley way where dozens of bodies lay. Upon a closer look, Jacob noticed in utmost horror that the bodies were of men, women, and children. Their bodies were ridden with bullet holes and the alley entrance was splattered with blood, causing the ex-special forces demolitionist to hunch over to cover his mouth as images of slaughter came to mind. He didn't know where the hell Cael was, but apparently a massacre had already taken place and he was too late to stop it. Silently Jacob looked around to survey other areas around the alleyway to accustom himself with a better grasp of the situation. There were tire marks leading away from the alley way and he noticed the name of a familiar shop at the entrance of the alleyway. "Bertucci's," Jacob said, pulling the Sikorsky out of hover mode. The sounds of gunfire, screeching, and engine whines made it evident what was going on; Cael was in deep shit and NOAH was onto him. The sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance and the sounds of other helicopters gave Jacob the notion that it was time to leave.

As he flew close to the gates, he watched from a distance as the remains of an attack helicopter lay smoldering in flames on a nearby street. "Yep," Jacob thought, "Cael's definitely in deep shit." Without another word, the ex-special forces demolitionist prodded the joystick forward, keeping his eyes peeled for any attack helicopters. After clearing another city block, he noticed flashes coming from a motorcycle, where 2 men rode at top speed behind a fast moving truck. Turpis police officers were swarming the alleyways and military personnel were taking position along the rooftops. The men on motorcycle were gaining speed and one of the men was firing madly at packs of Turpis soldiers. Jacob pressed the joystick forward, moving the chopper forward as it he flew over the 2 men on motorcycle. Jacob wanted to repay his lateness and he pulled out an HK417, loading a fresh clip into the holster. After a quick check of all the systems, he threw opened the pilot's door, and with one hand on the joystick and one hand on his assault rifle, opened fire on some soldiers along various rooftops. Flashing a peace sign at the two men on motorcycle, Jacob grinned and emptied his clip before veering the helicopter off course ...

Nax held himself still as the truck bounced off a curb and carreened through Main Street. The sight that met his eyes worried him. A lot.

He ducked down, putting the RPG back in the truck bed, frantic, he scrambled around the bed, pulling up covers and other crap looking for something useful. A shiny item caught his eye. He dug down to it and found a M2 .50 cal in a hidden compartment of the bed. Oh yeah... he thought. He pulled it out along with a couple boxes of ammo. Awesome. Shale grabbed his SCAR and shot a square shape in the trucks camper, then lay back and kicked it out. He groaned and pulled the big Mah-Deuce onto the top of the truck camper, facing the rear of the truck. Carefully, he loaded a belt into the feed slot and racked the bolt back.

Fuck this Shale thought. He yelled to Cael, "If you got any other plans that I should know about, you better tell me before I strafe these bastards!"

Finished waiting, he guessed the range and started sweeping half inch lead slugs up and down the row of Turpis military. Droids and men flew apart, blasted into large chunks of flesh and mech parts. One of the Leopard tanks turned to face the oncoming truck. Oh shit... Nax figured. If those tanks locked on to them, they were screwed. Suddenly, five more vehicles swerved onto Main Street, joining the truck. Adding to those five others, the Hummer from earlier burst onto the street topped with a Javelin toting angry woman. Quite abruptly, the odds seemed that much better.

“I hate this, Cael! I swear to God if you get me killed I’m going to haunt your ass until you go batshit!” Emma yelled.

Nax had a good chuckle to himself, then returned concentrating on popping the heads off the droids which seemed to be much better marksmen than the militia, who actually looked almost as scared shitless as he felt. A round whooshed by his head so close that he heard the CRACK!!! of the passing bullet. He remembered a rule of thumb, "If the bullet goes WHIZZ or WHING, it was far off. If it goes CRACK then you almost got shot." Best to keep that in mind, he thought to himself.

A tongue of flame leaped out from one of the 20mm chainguns on the Apache and ate up the asphalt next to the truck. Scared shitless, Nax swung the big fifty around and poured a couple dozen rounds into the windshield and rotor assembly of the hovering Apache. The helicopter exploded in a massive ball of flames shooting out shrapnel, flaming aviation fuel, and shards of rotor. The chopper next to it was unfortunately too close. A shard of rotor smashed into the tail, completely shearing it off. The expensive piece of scrap metal spun out of control and whirled down to the road where it landed on a cluster of soldiers and droids, adding another fireball to the predawn sky.

The Hummer, further down the street, swerved across his line of fire, taking a round into the front grill before Nax adjusted his aim away. Damn, that was close. The big SUV continued on and swerved off the street, tailed by an Apache. Nax resumed his firing, shredding up the cannon fodder/infantry, waiting for a break, like the tank commander who just opened the hatch on his Leopard. What an IDIOT! The young mercenary turned his sights on the tank commander and shredded him into very expensive mince meat. The hatch fell downward, deflecting two rounds into the tank, to cause who knows what havoc.

“Oh shit,” Jacob said as he veered the Sikorsky off the main street leading to the gates. He heard the sounds of helicopters and they sounded a *lot* like Apaches. Turning his head, he squinted, hoping to god that he was wrong. Out in the darkness, 4 silhouettes whirled in synchronization, highlighting their awesome arsenals amidst blinking red, white, and yellow lights. It was as he feared; the sounds were Apaches and the distance between the main gates was thinning ever so quickly. If he was not mistaken, he also noticed a barrier in front of the main gates and a sea of machine gun fire that began pouring down both ends of Main Street. Calmly, Jacob pressed the joystick forward, flying low behind buildings along the next street so as to disrupt any visual reads the Apaches might have designated on his chopper. He then whirled the Sikorsky across a wide alleyway, veering onto yet another street so as to mask his presence further. If he remained in the open too long, the Apaches would surely find him and from there, if even one of the Apaches got a lock on him, it was lights out. Come on, damnit, I need somewhere to hide. Scanning the tops of buildings, the asian demolitionist searched frantically for a place to land and hide, but all he was greeted with were clipped rooftops wide out in the open. The ground was pitch black and aside from the lights coming from his own helicopter, he couldn’t see very much else. Come on, there’s gotta be somewhere to hide …wait a minute … yes! Up ahead he noticed a wide-open courtyard right in the middle of a tall housing project. Come on baby, just a bit more. Pressing the joystick left, the Asian black ops veered the helicopter left, leveling it so it hovered over the ground, and hoping to god that no Apaches were following him. He then increased the torque, increasing altitude until the helicopter was more than high enough to the reach courtyard’s open entrance.

Immediately, gaining height, he pulled the joystick right, easing the Sikorsky’s speed when he came within view of the apartment. As the Sikorsky moved within a close distance between the courtyard entrance, the Asian demolitionist skillfully tilted the joystick again, maneuvering the chopper left until it leveled into a hovering position over the housing project’s courtyard. Then gently, the Asian demolitionist pulled the joystick towards his body, pushing back a few handles until the chopper began to make a slow descent towards the ground. Waves and dust jarred in every direction as the chopper touched the floor, landing its back two wheels first followed by the wheel under the Sikorsky’s nose. As the helicopter landed smoothly, Jacob immediately loaded a fresh clip into the HK417, carefully placing it to the ground before closing the pilot door. He then climbed out into the front passenger row, opening 2 floor compartments where he pulled out an M.T.A.R. 21, an ammunition belt filled with magazine pouches, a duffel bag with 2 spare Stinger missiles, a pair of binoculars, 6 fully loaded magazines of 5.52x42mm ammunition, a Kevlar vest, a small radio box with an attached microphone, and a fully loaded FIM-82 Stinger. After strapping himself down, he closed both floor compartments, threw the left passenger door open, unwound the M.T.A.R.’s safety switch to semi-automatic, and dove out into a roll, pointing the M.T.A.R. 21 left and right as he came to his feet. No police officers or soldiers seemed to have appeared on the premises, which prompted the Asian demolitionist to shoulder the rifle and rush towards a nearby ladder.

The Sikorsky’s whirling blades made a large commotion, causing many sleeping citizens to pop their heads out of nearby windows, but Jacob proceeded onwards, knowing it was futile to silence the Sikorsky’s noise or to calm any suspicions from awakened citizens. He had to reach the roof before the Apaches caused any more damage to Cael and the rest of the escapees. The sounds of gunfire echoing in the distance gave Jacob more motivation to push himself, prompting the demolitionist to double his pace up the tall shaky ladder. As he neared the top, the blades of the Sikorsky were still heard, but he continued to ignore the sounds and the collection of citizens that were beginning to assemble in the courtyard, focusing more of his attention on the loud exchanges of gunfire that were heard from just a few blocks away. In a careful manner, Jacob placed his gear down, grabbing his binoculars in the process. Within seconds, he had switched the digital visual sensors to night vision and scanning the streets for a better grasp of the current situation. Somewhere a few blocks away, he noticed green objects moving slowly along the streets. The objects’ outlines were unmistakable; they were NOAH foot soldiers and mechanical battle droids and they were moving in synchronization with the 2 slow moving Leopard battle tanks along Main Street. His bird’s eye view of Main Street gave him an amazing position with which to observe the unfolding events and it was here that perhaps he could commit his part in the escape effort.

Whistling in understanding, Jacob shook his head, acknowledging the evident; NOAH wanted Cael dead and the presence of the Leopards made it evident how dangerous the situation was becoming. Combining the Leopards, foot soldiers, and droids with 4 Apache attack helicopters just made one recipe for sol. Grunting in discomfort, Jacob turned his attention towards truck, to which he knew carried Cael and escaping civilians. The truck was speeding at a very quickly down the road and an asianic looking soldier had just opened the cab’s roof hatch, carrying what seemed to be an M2 Browning machine gun. Shifting in his position, Jacob watched fascinatingly as the soldier loaded the machine gun and unleashed a barrage of molten lead into packs of humans and droids alike. Shaking his head again, this time in admiration, the Asian demolitionist whistled, nodding his head in support as the man’s deadly accuracy tore through the foot soldiers with remarkable precision. Following the deadly barrage of bullets, Jacob turned his attention to a new development as 6 other vehicles swarmed out onto Main Street, the last vehicle consisting of a hummer with a woman carrying what he thought was a Javelin anti-tank weapon. Some of the men and women in the other vehicles carried machine guns while a few others carried rocket launchers.

The arrival of the vehicles proved a surprising development in favor of Cael’s situation, but with the presence of the Apaches, there was no way anyone in the convoy would escape alive. Jacob didn’t want to be the only one escaping and calmly the Asian black operative crept towards the roof area he’d dropped his stinger and radio, wanting more than anything to establish contact with someone in the high speed convoy. After reaching the Stinger, he pulled out the radio and flipped the power switch on, cranking a few frequency knobs to adjust the radio’s reception. The radio wasn’t all that difficult to tune and after a few knob twists, the Asian black operative raised the microphone to his mouth, saying, “Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3.” Static greeted him, causing the demolitionist to tweak the knobs a few more times. It took a few twists, but after adjusting the switches to a rare frequency level, he finally found a clear signal, prompting the Asian demolitionist to attempt radio contact again. “Testing, testing, 1,2, 3,” Jacob said, pressing the microphone talk button, “Is anyone on this channel?”

Silence ensued … then the speakers crackled to life, bursting with sounds of gunfire, engine whirs, and various screams. Amidst the chaos, a young sounding voice said, “W-what? *gunfire* Who the hell is this?!”

“This is Jacob Lei, special forces. Well, ex-special forces now that we’re fighting NOAH. Now who is this?” (Jacob)

“*gunfire* Who the fuck? Why should I tell you? Oh I know; you work for NOAH, don’t you? You know what? Why don’t you just s-” (Unknown rebel speaker)

“Listen, I’m on your side and if you want to make it out of Turpis alive, you’re going to have to trust me. There are a lot of innocent people that are trying to escape the city and you screaming into the microphone isn’t going to make things a whole lot better. Now if we’re going to make it out of Turpis alive, I’m going to need your full cooperation, do you understand me?” (Jacob)

Silence “Prove it.” (Unknown rebel speaker)

“Okay, I’ll do that. We don’t have a whole lot of time so I’m going to tell you what I see; if you stay on Main Street, you won’t last long. I’m looking at 4 Apaches coming from your rear, plus 2 Leopard battle tanks and … let’s see … a combination of around … 50 or 60 droid and human foot soldiers. Oh yeah … I also see a massive barricade at the end of the road. Now you can get off of Main Street, but you’re going to need to turn on the next right, do you hear me?”

“*gunfire* Um … what did you say? I’m sorry, I didn’t get the last s- whoa jesus!!!!!” Swweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrvvvvveeeeeeeee

“Oh shit,” Jacob muttered in horror as he watched the hummer behind the leading truck swerved left and right along all 4 of main street’s lanes, dodging chain gun rounds that began tearing Main Street apart.

After a moment, he saw the swerving hummer gain control again and pull up alongside the leading truck. The speakers on Jacob’s radio box crackled back to life, channeling sounds of tramense barrages of gunfire. “Hello? Is anyone still there? We’re getting hit from fucking everywhere!” (Unknown rebel speaker)


“Alright, just calm down,” Jacob said scanning the road ahead of the main group, “I think I see an alley opening to your next r-”

“*gunfire* Oh my god!!” Sweeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrvvvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Flinching, Jacob winced as loud screeches and sounds of metal grinding echoed from the radio’s speakers. When the screeching stopped, he raised the microphone back to his mouth and said, “Is anyone still there, over?” For a moment the only thing that came out of the speakers was gunfire. Then, out of nowhere the speakers crackled again and the same voice burst onto the speakers.

“*gasp* Still here. We almost hit a tree, but we’re okay. Who is this again?” (Unknown rebel speaker)

“Jacob Lei, ex-special forces. And who are you?” (Jacob)

“Sergeant Graziano. Nice to meet you, Jacob.” (Sergeant Gratziano)

“Nice to meet you too Sergeant. Let me see … I think I see you; you’re in the hummer next to that big truck with the Browning .50 cal, am I right?” (Jacob)

“Yeah, how’d you …” (Sergeant Gratziano)

“Never mind that, there’s another alley coming up ahead and I need you to turn onto it. Should be on your right in just a moment.” (Jacob)

“I see it!” Sweeeerrrvveeeeeeeeee!Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrroommmmmmmmmmmmmm! “…Okay, I just turned into an alleyway and I’m heading d- *gunfire* whoa shit!” Vroom Vrooommmmmm

Throwing down the microphone, Jacob noticed bright blinking lights hovering some blocks away, and peered through the binoculars before knowing what was happening. Formulating a plan, the Asian demolitionist grabbed the microphone and said, “Uhm … hello? Are you still there, Sergeant? There’s an Apache on your tail and it’s moving up fast. I got a plan though so listen up. I need you to make a sharp left after you get on the next street. Once you do that, just gun the engine. Got it?”

“Yeah! Christ, I just hope you know what you’re doing, we got women and children in here!” (Sergeant Gratziano)

“I am aware of that. Just trust me on this one, I got a surprise waiting up the road.” (Jacob)

Throwing down the microphone, Jacob smiled wickedly, waddling to where the Stinger lay. After finding a wide-open space, the Asian demolitionist adjusted his posture, waiting until the Apache came within range. Before he was able to get a lock, however, a missile came streaking out of one of the nearby streets, slamming into the Apache with deadly force. Throwing the Stinger down, Jacob grabbed the microphone again and said, “Hey uhm … you know about that Apache? The one that was on your tail? Well … someone just took it down; did you just do that?”

“Fuck yeah we did! Make that one dead helo!” (Sergeant Gratziano)

“Uhm … good job, but there’s still 3 …” Suddenly the skies lighted, pulling the demo man’s attention away from the radio. Farther down the road, another Apache whirled out of control, slamming into a building in a brilliant explosion of red and orange flames. As the chopper exploded, one of its loose rotor blades slammed into the tail rotor of another nearby Apache, causing the nearby Apache to also spin out of control. In seconds the nearby Apache slammed into one of the Leopards, exploding into a brilliant ball of red and yellow flames and in the process, killing a number of droids and foot soldiers. “Uhm … nevermind! Make that just 1 Apache left.” He had just turned the binoculars to the last Apache when he watched it closed in on the lead truck. “Oh shit,” he muttered, hastily throwing down the binoculars at the new situation.

Grabbing the Stinger from the ground, Jacob pushed the lever along the back of the weapon before calmly waiting until the menu crosshair locked onto the hovering Apache. Upon hearing loud bleeps and screes burst out of the Stinger’s menu, the demo man pulled the trigger releasing a missile into the air. A series of fires blew out of the Stinger’s side and rear, causing the demolitionist’s shoulder to rock backwards. The large cloud of smoke and fumes that filled the air were miniscule in comparison to what happened next. Upon seeing the missile streak into the sky, Jacob dropped to the floor, rolling behind the safety of the shack’s walls as the streaking missile slammed into their Apache’s belly. It burst into a brilliant ball of red and yellow flames, showering metal parts, glass, and plastic along nearby rooftops and street causeways.

Jacob shook his fist at the skies as the last remaining Apache fell to the ground, showering the rooftops with bits and pieces of glass, fiery metal, and melted plastic. Waddling back towards the radio box, Jacob grabbed the microphone and said, “And that’s how it’s done.”

“I saw that, hahaaaaaa! Damn, that was close, sure glad you’re our side!” (Sergeant Gratziano)

“Yeah well, we’re in this ‘til the better end. For the time being, I’d advise to keep your eyes peeled in case any more choppers come your way and if you can, try not to get yourself killed. We’re still outnumbered 100 to 1.” (Jacob)

“Right! Well … thanks a ton; we owe you our lives. I think we can manage from here, Jacob. Gonna head back on main street now and see if we can’t link up with Cael; I’m still hearing gunfire a few blocks away.” (Sergeant Gratziano)

“Alright Graziano, keep your eyes peeled and good hunting. I still see 2 Leopards on main street and a fuck load of foot soldiers so I think I’m gonna bail; not much point in hanging around this spot anyways. Jacob, out ...” (Jacob)

Miles behind everyone else, the road towards the gate was relatively clear, with only patches of soldiers and droids that could not react fast enough to fire at the pair. However, at 180 mph, the miles melted away faster than Seviryn would have liked and they were suddenly coming up on the rear of the group that had formed up behind the lead party. Alex slowed the bike a little when Seviryn leaned over to look past him and shouldered his P90 with one hand. The tanks were a problem for sure, but he didn't have anything that could take down a Leopard and he'd be in the open far too long to climb atop one and drop grenades into the hatch. He was about to direct Alex down one of the side streets so they could go around the whole mess when a commotion above them caught his attention.

An Apache gunship tore off the main street in pursuit of one of the trucks in Cael's convoy and was blown out of the sky moments later. Almost immediately afterward, a barrage of .50 caliber bullets ripped a second one in half, causing it to crash into a third. Everything else seemed to happen in slow motion as he watched the tanks rushing up on them. A couple soldiers turned around to see what was coming, and Seviryn pumped a handful of rounds into the group before his P90 clicked empty, dropping three in the back line. He dropped the P90 back onto it's strap since it was useless to try and reload it with Alex driving, and clung to his brother for dear life. When he looked back up, the flaming wreckage of two Apache gunships were plummeting out of the sky, and judging from their trajectory he guessed they would land right on top of them if Alex didn't do something.

Alex swerved the bike quickly to the right as the severed tail of one of the Apaches came crashing down beside them. Bits of shrapnel caromed alarmingly off of Seviryn's helmet and he screamed something at Alex, who was ignoring him to concentrate. Seviryn clawed at his brother in terror when the bike angled for a small gap between the platoon of scattering soldiers and one of the Leopard tanks. Against shouted protests, Alex cranked the throttle back and the rear wheel broke free for a scant moment, causing the bike to lurch forward when it regained traction. They shot through the gap, narrowly dodging a soldier, and Seviryn felt the corner of the tank's tread brush the skin of his shoulder as Alex cut in front of the vehicle to avoid wild gunfire from the pack of droids. They swerved again, causing the rear wheel to kick out and the bike to slide for a few feet before Alex brought it back under control and cranked the throttle a second time. Seviryn shut his eyes, feeling the heat of the flames lick his back through his coat and burn against his neck as one of the ruined gunships crashed into the group of soldiers while the second landed almost directly on top of one of the tanks. They were showered with burning shrapnel, and explosion from a fuel tank rupturing and catching flame rocked the bike roughly. It was Alex's skill that kept the bike upright, and luck that kept them from being skewered by flying shrapnel. Alex steadied the vehicle and quickly began to catch up to Cael's truck. Seviryn would have stopped to make sure all his limbs were intact and functional if he didn't think letting go of Alex would cause him to fly off the bike.

"Was tha' completely necessary?"

"Pussy. It's not over... I still need to concentrate so quit bitching!"

Of course it wasn't... Seviryn didn't think the tanks would be stopped merely by dropping an exploding gunship on them, though the drivers would certainly need a few moments to regain their composure. There was also the problem of the rapidly approaching gate that didn't look like it was opening any time soon. With tanks behind them and a dead end ahead, Seviryn suddenly felt trapped. He didn't have the means to take down a pair of tanks but if they could get to the gate house they might be able to open the doors... Alex seemed to have been thinking along the same lines, because he was lining the bike up behind Cael's truck for cover, and from the angle he was approaching, he guessed Alex was going to slingshot around the truck to put them on a vector for the gatehouse... everything else was left up to luck and timing, so Seviryn braced himself and held on tight.

Shale swept the sights of his aging Mah-Duece across the rear of the truck one more time and satisfied himself with the fact that every mek and militiaman was dead. Excpet for the two Leopards. But he couldn't do anything about them. He swung the heavy machine gun around to point towards the oncoming barricade. Or rather, the stationary barricade. They were the ones about to crash through it.

Oh shit. That was the last emotional thought Shale had before he was forced to duck down into the safety of the truck bed. A dozen rounds CRACKed past where his head had been. Shale was now supremely pissed off. He looked through the window into the cab and saw Cael on the phone. He only heard "Mom" before his eyes clouded over with red. "IF WE EVER GET OUT OF THIS ALIVE CAEL, I'LL CUT OFF YOUR NUTS, FEED 'EM TO RABID DOGS, AND STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH MYSELF!!! GODDAMN SUICIDAL UNPLANNED MISSION!!!"

In a wasted hope to attempt to save some of the passengers of the vehicles ahead, the mercenary racked a 40mm AP grenade into his SCAR and popped up through his hole in the camper. He was glad to see that his M2 was still there, sitting on the roof, loaded and ready to go. With careful aim, Shale managed to put the 'nade right on top of a soldier next to some cars. Inadvertently, Shale had wrecked half the spike strip with the explosive. Unfortunately, neither he, nor anybody else knew that. Shale dropped down and grabbed another of the 40mm nades and popped up again, this time using a "bunker-buster" style nade. He took aim at a much larger target, a concrete barricade, and loosed the round. He watched the fat 40mm round spiral in. It landed a bit short, only wrecking the bottom half of the barricade, but spreading large fractures all the way across the obstacle. The gunner dropped his SCAR with care and locked in with the M2 again. He had been careful to try and conserve ammunition, but even so, he only had a box and a half left, about 375 rounds. With his body on auto-pilot, Shale locked onto soldier after soldier, droid after droid, trying to drop each with less than three shots. He didn't always succeed in killing them, but he never failed in dropping them.

Shale had fallen into a robotic killing mode, seeing nothing but targets to kill, enemies that had to be eliminated. There was no soul in him right now, nothing but automatic motions. His eyes saw nothing but the flare of the muzzle flash and the targets, slammed back by the force of the round, or in the case of the droids, exploding in spectacular booms. The bolt locked open and Shale reached down mechanically, to grab another box of ammo. His fingers searched and found only one box left. He released the machine gun from his left hand and grabbed the empty box, hurling it through the air at a nearby soldier, just to get rid of the box. With his right hand, he pulled up the last box of .50 cal ammo. Working methodically, he racked in the first round and unlocked the bolt.

Through his peripheral vision, he saw a series of bright flashes, three rounds, probably from a M4 carbine. He registered the flashes as gunshots directed straight at him. His mind screamed, DUCK!!!!, but his body was too slow. The first round flew wide, missing him completely. The second and third were better aimed, the former burying itself high in his left shoulder, the latter blasting through his left bicep. At first, he felt nothing, only yanking the gun up and destroying the soldier that had shot him with the carbine.

Then the pain hit. His nerves screamed in protest and he clutched at his shoulder, suddenly feeling his legs turn weak. Shale clutched at the heavy weapon on the camper shell for support, holding himself up by fingertips. With an almighty jolt, the truck rolled to the left. The heavy Mah-Duece slid down, towards the hole Shale had made in the camper shell. He tried to hold it back, but was too weak with pain. The gun slid through the hole, just as he slumped to the ground. He tried to roll out of the way of the falling gun, but only partially succeeded. It crashed to the bed of the truck, landing flat on his legs, just as the truck levelled out again. He yelled in pain, again, and reached down to roll the gun off his legs. Already, Shale could feel blood rushing to his legs. They were going to bruise a lot...

The sound of gunfire, death, and explosions suddenly disappeared. There was no sound of rubber on asphalt. Only the quiet whisper of travel across silent sand. He heard Cael shout, "We made it!" Light flooded into the truck bed in the growing dawn. A cloud of dust stretched back behind the truck. Smile lines creased his face. His eyes closed and he lay his head down, suddenly tired. The blackness overtook him in seconds.

The whirling blades of the Sikorsky helicopter called for Jacob's departure and he was in the mid process of slinging his stinger filled duffel bag over his shoulder when the sound of whirling rotor blades filled the skies. "What in the hell," he muttered, pulling out his binoculars to see what the rotor sounds were. Out in the distance, near the front gates, he noticed flashing lights blinking in the skies, signaling the unwanted arrival of 2 more Apaches. "Son of a bitch," Jacob cussed, gritting his teeth at the unexpected reinforcements, "Won't these assholes just fuck off?!" He'd just downed 1 Apache and members of the convoy had dispatched 3 others. Now there were 2 more?! NOAH's military was growing more aggressive by the second and there was no telling when they'd deploy fighter jets. He hoped to god they didn't send the air force because if that happened, the convoy and everyone in it would die before they even reached the gates.

Then again, that reality seemed to be imminent in a different way with the presence of the two Apache attack helicopters and the sheer amount of machine gun fire that was flooding down Main Street. The dark alleyways lighted with rifle and machine gun fire illuminating the streets with yellow and red tracers. Farther down the streets, Jacob followed the tracers back to their source; a huge barricade erected at the gates. Behind the barricade were soldiers, armed with various weapons of standard NOAH issue and they were pouring everything they had at the oncoming convoy. The immense amount of small arms fire pouring into the convoy wasn't the only problem, or the unwanted arrival of a pair of Apaches; it was the fact that one or two of the vehicles had sped at full speed into the barricade a la kamikaze fashion. For a moment, Jacob's mind froze, as he contended the bleakness of the convoy's survival.

5 cramped SUVs and trucks didn't give a whole lot of room for many survivors to escape and if the convoy had just lost 1 or 2 out of the five or six vehicles, mostly due to kamikaze tactics and small arms fire, a ticket to hell seemed the more probable of possibilities than escaping this mess. He had to think quickly; abort mission and abandon the helicopter along with everyone in the convoy or wing it through to the end. He didn't have long to find inspiration to follow through with the escape because about the moment the Asian demolitionist turned his gaze to the skies, an explosion filled the air. The explosion turned out to be one of the attack helicopters and it quickly plummeted to the ground in a fiery ball of red flames. Jacob lowered to one knee and slung the stinger filled duffle bag to the ground, unzipping it quickly as he did so. "Fuck it," Jacob said turning to the Stinger, "It's all or nothing." Even if he were to bail, he couldn't live with running away while everyone else died around him. He was in this to the end and if that meant murdering as many of those genocidal maniacs as he could, so much the better.

That meant directly eliminating the one remaining Apache that was hovering dangerously close to the convoy. Jacob fell to one knee, and slung the shoulder mounted duffle bag onto the ground. There were 2 stinger missiles wedged into the bag's holdings, which gave him only 2 shots to take down the Apache. He had to make those 2 shots count or else there would be no way he'd escape alive. The Asian demolitionist wasted no time in releasing the FIM-92 Stinger Missile Launcher's safety hatches and ramming a fresh missile into the front compartment. The missile fit in nicely, after which he effectively activated the Stinger's targeting systems to produce a lock on the remaining attack helicopter. Remembering to keep as much space for the Stinger's back blast as possible, Jacob found a wide area to kneel that allowed plenty of back blast space for when the missile fires would burst out.

With positioning taken care of and the crosshair menu already locking onto the new target, the Asian demolitionist only had, but to wait before he heard the familiar screes resound from the Stinger's targeting screen. Quickly Jacob pushed the launch button and for the second time that day, a missile screamed out of the launcher's long tubular barrel, producing a smoke filled trail in the sky. Seconds later, after whirling and twisting in a wild frenetic path, the missile slammed into the remaining Apache's belly, lighting the sky with bright red light while showering hot flaming debris around the gate barricade. A second explosion followed shortly afterwards as the flaming derelict Apache slammed to the ground, plastering the gateway entrance with scorching red flames, sharp burning metal, and fuel. "Direct hit," Jacob muttered, pumping his fist in the air!

The Asian demolitionist didn't want to know who was caught in the explosion, but knew that he'd temporarily eliminated the air threat NOAH posed over the convoy. With the Apaches eliminated, Jacob wearily sighed a breath of relief; that was 6 attack helicopters down. This was getting ugly fast and he didn't want to stick around long enough to see any fly boys tracking his ass. It was time to leave, but he couldn't leave until he was absolutely certain there were no more attack helicopters nearby. Jacob lost no time in searching for more enemy air support, but after several moments of searching, he found none. Hoping to god there weren't any more air reinforcements, Jacob decided it was time to leave, quickly slinging the FIM-92 Stinger Missile Launcher over his shoulder and grabbing whatever other belongings that he'd carried with him to the roof. When he reached the roof ledge leading towards the bottom, the whirling sounds of the Sikorsky-92 beckoned him to leave, however, that possibility suddenly became more problematic since a large crowd of sleepy civilians had just gathered at the center of the apartment's courtyard. It became evident of how much of a commotion the Sikorsky had made not to mention Jacob's anti-air duties. Many were staring at the helicopter, others pointing towards the roof, while others seemed to be talking on their cell phones, while looking up at Jacob.

It was definitely time to leave and as the Asian demolitionist climbed down the ladder, he was greeted by a group of disgruntled civilians. "Excuse me," said one angry bald man in his early 40s, "Do you mind telling us what the hell's going on here?" Jacob opened his mouth to speak when a disgruntled mother carrying a screaming newborn infant interrupted and shouted, "We don't appreciate you landing this helicopter in our courtyard; we're all trying to get some sleep," shouted a disgruntled mother carrying a newborn infant! There were more angry remarks that came from the crowd and a few seemed more than insulting as the Asian demolitionist inched towards the helicopter. He didn't have time for this and if he waited any longer, he wouldn't be able to escape Turpis. Amidst more hails of insults and angry remarks, Jacob raised his arms and shouted, "Everyone, step away from the helicopter! This is a routine government radio signals checkup so please go back to sleep." The crowd backed away as Jacob cycled around the helicopter, repeating himself. His words seemed to do the trick, especially when he uttered government and soon, most of the civilians began to back away. After he had sufficiently cleared the perimeter, Jacob climbed into the Sikorksy's cockpit and unloaded his belongings into nearby holding compartments.

Time was of the essence and with all of his gear safety tucked away; Jacob slammed the cockpit door and jammed into the left pilot seat. In moments, after the controls were adjusted, the helicopter lifted off, rising higher into the air until the confined walls of the apartment could not be seen. The belated and confused figures down below gaped at the helicopter, some even pointing at it, but that was no concern to the Asian demolitionist as the Sikorsky reached open skies. Now came the tricky part; to escape unnoticed. Jacob scanned the skies, looking for any signs of enemy aircraft or helicopters, but after a few moments, found none. Still, he pulled the piloting joystick right until the Sikorsky hovered above another street. There was no loss in being on the safe side and flying at a low altitude made the best cover to evade enemy aircraft. This was done in moments as Jacob pressed the joystick forwards, fiddling with the controls until he'd effectively lowered the helicopter to just 20 or 30 meters above a nearby street. "Easy does it," he thought, fiddling with the controls again and maneuvering the Sikorksy's torque forwards. The street was rather narrow so he had to be careful not to catch the helicopter's rotor blades along any buildings. Visibility wasn't as poor with the Sikorsky's blinking belly lights and nose spotters to provide lighting along the dimly lit street. Every now and then the demolitionist would scan the skies for any possible signs of NOAH aircraft. He found none, which was relieving, but was still paranoid from the immense barrages of gunfire that echoed from a few blocks down. There was nothing he could do, but fly onwards as the tall reinforced walls loomed far away. In a matter of seconds, all that prevented him from escaping were Turpis' walls.

This was it; this was the big thing and once he left the walls; there'd be no turning back. Of course, there was no turning back the moment he pulled the chip out, but he had no idea what lay beyond the walls and he wasn't sure what he'd expect. It wasn't until he remembered all the slaughtered civilians laying in the alley and the sheer amount of disgust he held for the NOAH regime that he told himself, "Come on Jacob, what are you waiting for? Fuck NOAH and their god damn regime." Shaking his head at the no brainer, the demolitionist brought his fingers to the altitude controls. He had to get the hell out of Turpis! This wasn't shit and giggles anymore and he got straight to work by fiddling with the controls until the helicopter's altitude increased. Thick smoke could be seen to the left and the sounds of gunfire could still be heard in the distance along with the roaring sounds of engines.

The helicopter rose higher and higher in the air and as it did, Jacob did another systematic search of the skies for enemy aircraft. There were none and in about 10 seconds, he found himself looking over a large expanse of wasteland. There was nothing, but pure dirt and waste for miles around and the demolitionist couldn't help, but open the cockpit door and turn his head to look back at Turpis. The tall monotonously cramped urban landscape was everything that NOAH stood for and for a moment, he couldn't help, but scoff at the regime for its ugliness. It wasn't until the helicopter had reached a fairly high altitude that he pulled his head back into the pilot cockpit and slammed the door, pushing the joystick forwards. It was time to move and with that, the Sikorsky's nose dipped forwards, maintaining altitude as it passed over Turpis' walls. Jacob remained calm as the helicopter flew onwards, keeping a close eye on the ragged convoy that zoomed parallel to him. He didn't know where the hell they were going since there was nothing, but wasteland for miles around, however; he hoped that Cael or someone in the convoy knew what they were doing. At some point they were going to run out of fuel and god knew if they'd survive the night ...

As the battle blazed around them and Nathan was driving right through it. Winston Churchill once said, 'If you are going through hell, keep going.' If this isn't hell, heaven is a lie. Bullets shot threw one side of the black Escalade and out the other. Each one could have found its mark, but thank God none did. God? What part did he play in all this? Is he watching? He must not be or else why would this be happening. “It doesn't matter,” Nathan muttered to himself as the Escalade felt like it was going to roll over from avoiding the smoldering remains of a hummer. A hummer filled with the charred corpses of fellow refugees. The thought made a chill run down his spine despite the fact that sweat was pouring down his neck and into his shoulders; right into his wound. Nathan clinched his teeth as he remembered the bullet rubbing against his humerus. That was one bullet that didn’t make it out the other side of the Escalade.

Nathan tried to follow the same path that he thought was the same way a truck of refugees took. At least he assumed they were refugees, they seemed to be doing the running. The task was made progressively difficult as the skies darkened with black smoke that moved quickly across his vision. The smoke was moving a little too quickly, is there wind? Through the barrage of gunfire Nathan picked out one sound…and he didn’t like it. “Damn it! Helicopters,” he exclaimed as the smoke cleared enough to make out a helicopter flying overhead. It was firing at the truck that Nathan so desperately tried to follow. ‘If they get killed I won’t know where to go,” Nathan thought. Almost as soon as he did someone in the back of the truck returned fire. The helicopter burst into flames and fell right in front the Escalade's path. “Da,” the rest of Nathan’s words became part of the background noise as the Escalade’s engine began to roar and the passengers were pressed into their seats as Nathan accelerated through a turn to avoid the crashing helicopter. The sound of scraping metal joined the hellish symphony as a loud blast and a flash of light from behind brought the song to a crescendo. But this wasn’t over. This felt like the longest moment in his life.

Nathan was set on following the truck that he held so much faith in and knew if it made it through he could too. Just then he made a quick turn to avoid a concrete wall that claimed his right side view mirror. Oh yeah. Escalades are just a bit bigger, and turning is harder with one arm. Ok so he can’t follow it where ever it goes, but who uses that mirror anyway.

And it turns out he didn’t need it. What he wanted to see was right in front of him. A horizon filled with stars. A sigh of relief filled Nathan and he was about to start laughing until he heard another helicopter. They were so close. So. Damn. Close. He readied himself to feel the burn of hot lead. He gaught a glimse of the helicopter as it flew over his car, it was not an assault helicopter, and it wasn't shooting at them. Maybe someone on their side had taken one? After he was sure the walls of Turpis were containing raging torrent he sighed and glanced down to see a handheld radio among broken glass and blood in the floor. Nathan carefully held the steering wheel with his left arm as he reached down and picked up the bloody radio. A red light showed that the radio was turned on and had a full charge when Nathan pushed the talk button. “This is Nathan Alexander,” he swallows and wonders if anyone else even has a working radio, “who else is out there?”