Anyone else have the opening and ending theme to
Ouran High School Host Club stuck in their head? No, just me? Alrighty then.
Previous Chapter
Part Four: Assault
“We need to get you and your pilots to the roof,” Mr. Matthews said, reaching into his pocket and attaching an earpiece behind his left ear. As soon as the piece was attached he started barking in rapid English. I looked to Kenji, but he shook his head; he must’ve been talking to fast for Kenji to understand him.
Mr. Matthews started trotting into the hall, and we followed.
“We need to get a squad down here to defend you and the last of our departing agents. We also have to ensure all data here is destroyed or taken with you.”
“You said you had AA?” Kenji asked.
Mr. Mathews nodded, “two 40 mm quad guns, hidden in the forest. They’re radar controlled, but with the radar jamming they’ll have to fire blind,” Mr. Matthews paused as someone started talking to him through his earpiece, “damn, the helo’s are coming in faster then we thought; we’ll never be able to shoot them all down.”
“How many personnel do you have here?” Kenji asked.
“Thirty-six, not counting you two, the pilot, co-pilot, and the six men going with you. All of them are trained in combat and ready to die to ensure your evacuation, except the pilots, whom I recommend you keep alive.”
Before we could say anything else, Mr. Matthews walked across the hall to the door opposite the archive room we had just left. It was open and people were filing in and out at a rapid pace. We followed him, and it became obvious that the room was an armory. Weapons, ammunition, and combat armor was stacked and shelved everywhere. Mr. Matthews reached for a backpack and tossed it to Kenji, who failed to catch it, instead jumping back as the item hit him.
“Put the package in there, you’ll need your hands,” Mr. Matthews said, quickly undoing the lock again before returning to the shelves. When he returned he grabbed a brown helmet and body armor, throwing them on while a shorter, younger man standing next to a row of shotguns and rifles handed him a rifle and a couple of magazines.
“You two will need weapons,” he said while I repacked the papers and bourbon. Kenji, already wearing body armor and a helmet, quickly tossed me a helmet and armor to throw on before I put on the pack.
“We’re good,” Kenji said, pulling out his Tesla. Mr. Matthews eyed the Templar weapon, but nodded.
“And you?” he asked me.
I slung the pack onto my back and pulled out my own Tesla. Mr. Matthews looked uneasy.
“You should probably have another weapon,” he said.
“This is fine for me,” I said, “and don’t give him anything bigger then a pistol- he’s blind.”
“Only legally! And I can handle a weapon just fine, man.”
I raised an eyebrow, “remember Kyoto?”
Kenji groaned, “I said I was sorry.”
At that a young man in combat armor and helmet trotted in, his assault rifle ready in his hands. He spoke quickly to Mr. Matthews, who turned to us.
“You’re escort squad and pilots are here. Get to the roof, and Godspeed.”
His tone made me realize that he didn’t expect to survive the attack, despite the relative equality of numbers, “none of you expect to survive this, do you?”
Mr. Matthews nodded, “we have to hold off long enough to ensure your departure and the destruction of the data.”
“What about your families?” Kenji said.
Mr. Matthews smiled dryly, “I assure you, Mr. Setou, no one on this island will be mourned or remembered when they are gone. Now get moving.”
I didn’t feel like arguing with a dead man, so I followed the young man out into the hall. Ten others were in the hall, all of them armed and armored. I noticed four of them had packs similar to my own on their backs- the most important data, most likely. The squad leader turned to us and spoke in horribly accented Japanese, “I’m Tiler Hicks, stay in the middle with the agents and pilot, and we’ll get you to the roof.”
Tiler was his rank, by the way- the Freemason Society used the same ranks as the organization, for the most part.
I nodded and the squad surrounded us in the narrow hall. Cautiously but quickly, the twelve of us made our way to the stairway, the door of which was open. The guard in front steadied his rifle in front of him and peered into the hall, quickly looking up while another followed him to check the stairs and corners. They both said the stairs were clear and were urged forward by the Tiler. We all herded into the stairway and up to the first floor when we stopped halfway up the stairs to the next floor. The door to the first floor was closed, but I still heard the explosion, somewhere on the first floor. Someone said something into Hicks’ earpiece. I could just make out his anxious face, so I looked to Kenji, who was frowning and closer to Hicks.
“’Perimeter breached, ground floor,’” he translated for me.
Crap.
“The stairs will be compromised soon,” Hicks said, “there’s a fire escape outside on the wall opposite the front entrance. It’s exposed but a better bet than the stairs.”
“Should we split up?” Kenji asked.
Hicks looked annoyed, but nodded after a moments thought, “you have a point. It’ll divide our firepower, but in these enclosed spaces it doesn’t matter. You two, the pilot and one of the agents will stay with me and fire team one. Fire team two will escort the other agents and the co-pilot, and will head for the fire escape.”
Hicks repeated the instructions in English, and after a somewhat dramatic “Masons! We! Are! Leaving!” Two of the guard’s huddled around three of the agents and the co-pilot at the entrance to the ground floor, in preparation for their push to the fire escape. The rest of us continued up the stairs. On the way to the second floor Hicks got a new message, which Kenji told me meant the third floor was breached. Great, that meant the roof was probably swarming with enemy soldiers. When we reached the second floor we heard the door below us explode.
“That can’t be good,” I said.
“Keep going,” Hicks barked from the front of the formation. The guard behind us said something and started firing down the hall. Deciding to be proactive for once tonight, I reached onto my belt and pulled out a Tesla grenade.
Each one had blue-purple jolts of electricity jumping from the two points inside, while one end had the power source and the pin. I was tempted to take one apart, but I didn’t feel like tempting fate- if I accidentally set it off, odds were good I’d suffer a heart attack. I pulled the pin and tossed the grenade down the stairs below us, warning our group as I did so. I heard it go off in a burst of loud static and shocks as we made our way to the third floor.
As we made our way around to the last batch of stairs towards the third floor I paused. My heart was beating hard and erratically. Now, of all times? Damn stairs.
“Hang on,” I said.
“Why?” Hicks barked.
“His arrhythmia,” Kenji said.
Hicks rolled his eyes, “great. Take your time, orders are to get you two to the roof alive at any cost.”
It took a few seconds to get my heart rate steady, and as we started to ascend the last steps up to the third floor, the door to said floor burst into pieces.
“Get down!” Hicks barked. He fired a quick burst from his rifle while the rest of us started crouching down on the stairs. When two frag grenades started rolling down the stairs he swore and dropped his rifle. He quickly dove at them and tossed them down the stairs, where they went off, inflicting some damage on our newest batch of pursuers, it seemed. As Hicks went back for his rifle two men entered the stairway above us.
Both were dressed in white and light gray clothing, with gray body armor and helmets with goggles and gas masks. One was holding an automatic shotgun of some sort, while the other had an assault rifle. Both fired at Hicks at the same time I fired my Tesla from behind Hicks. An arc of blue energy slammed into the two soldiers, and all three collapsed onto the floor. I moved forward, Kenji behind me, to check Hicks’ pulse, but the fact that half his face was missing told me what his lack of a pulse confirmed.
“He’s dead,” I said.
“We need to keep moving, man,” Kenji said, then repeated it in English. As the one agent moved closer, his rifle steady, the guard behind him started firing down the stairway. He barked something to us, which Kenji translated.
“They’re coming from the second floor, we have to hurry up.”
The five of us moved forward to the top of the stairway, just as two more enemy soldiers stepped up to the former door’s threshold. This time Kenji fired his Tesla, dropping the two almost on top of their comrades. We quickly peered into the third floor, and the sight did not boost my confidence.
About six Freemasons were firing their weapons behind a hasty bulwark of chairs and tables around the elevator and stairway recess, while around them, using the walls or doors for cover, ten or so Illuminati were returning fire. The five of us ducked down to join them when our rear guard took a hit to the head. Kenji swore and spun around as the guard crumpled to the floor. He readied his Tesla just as two soldiers ascended the stairs into the doorway. He fired a quick shot and managed to hit them both, but as they collapsed another soldier took up a position along the threshold’s left wall. It didn’t take me long to notice he was armed with a grenade rifle.
+++
Next Chapter
Moar Dakka.
For those not in the know, a Tiler is the front door sentry at the Lodge. His main job is to look pretty and make sure only Members enter the Lodge. It can also be spelled Tyler.
