Tijuana, Mexico. Sometimes it feels like we're policing the American's backyard. There are abductions taking place in Pretoria, Perth and elsewhere... but it's Mexico where I've sent Cpts.. Twitch and Nix, Lts. "Sentinel" Saxby and "Boghead" Borg, Sgt. "Enigma" Lambert, and Sq. James Arnold.
Something darts out from behind a cafeteria, a silver blur. Boghead's headcam crackles, cuts out. Then Sentinel's.
"It's doing something to our equipment," says one of the technicians, alarmed, "we can't get a lock on it!"
"Get those cams back online!"
There is an explosion on the coms, a truncated shriek. Sq. Arnold's cam cuts out, Twitch's. Nix and Enigma are crouched in cover, nothing to see.
"Dammit," I mutter. "Strike team, status report! We're blind up here. What is that thing?"
Twitch's voice echoes around the room. "I couldn't rightly tell you, sir. It's packing explosives, though, and some serious firepower. Boghead got hit by a 'nade, she's pulled back. Arnold took a full broadside, thought he was a goner. Argh, die your purple mother!"
Gunfire, static.
"Sorry sir, Thin Man. This thing's bearing down on us, what should-"
"Sir, I think I've got it." I run over to the technician. He's zoomed in the Skyranger cams, trying to focus on whatever it is took down Arnold and Borg. A sort of silver disc, with satellites swirling around it, blurred even at this range by whatever it does to our sensors.
"Twitch, pull back, unleash everything you've got at it."
It takes everything we've got too. But when the dust clears, we've got a hulk of something to haul back on the Skyranger.
No comments:
Post a Comment