“Shit!” John was in trouble and Kyle was pinned down at the top of the spire. He jumped backwards, his UABs belching as he landed.
These douchebags really mean to do us in!
Without thinking, he smacked his pressure switch and flew up into the air and out of cover. He was several hundred feet off the ground, something the UABs weren’t designed for.
As he descended, he opened up with his Oma Repeater, laying down hot energy projectiles on their attackers.
Before coming to the ground, Kyle smacked the pressure switch again to slow his descent, then the UABs belched again as he landed heavily, rolling across the dusty landfill ground behind a pile of trash.
Weapon’s fire slammed into the crap he sprawled behind.
Kyle screamed as dirt and dust kicked up all around him. “Fuck you!”
Without even looking, he flipped his repeater over his cover and started blind firing like crazy. As soon as he was out of energy, he brought the gun back and slapped in a new energy clip and continued laying suppressive fire on their targets.
As reckless as this was, he and John were now laying down crossfire over their attackers, effectively flanking them.
John shot off three more rails. Kyle knew because he heard the sound John’s pistol made, a hollow crack followed by trailing whine.
He just hoped one of those rail shots didn’t hit his cover, because it would probably go through it and kill him.
The MerCorp Hardware guys weren’t shooting as much now after Kyle finished another clip. His Oma Repeater was glowing red at the nose. If he put another clip worth of automatic fire through it right now it would melt in his hands.
Peaking over his cover, he saw that there were just two guys left. Kyle pulled out his black combat Bowie and tossed it forward. The blade struck the guy laying fire down on him in the head. He jerked, fell to his knees and then went face down in the dirt.
The second guy, unaware that his last ally had just gone down, was shot in the shoulder by John. The rail pierced his body, putting a visible hole through him as he flipped and fell in the dust.
All was quiet for a few seconds, then Kyle stood up. “John?” He asked over their wristlet coms.
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He came out from his place of hiding. “I’m good.”
“What you did was very reckless, Kyle,” Lexa said. “You could have easily been killed.”
“Yeah,” he said, “well that’s how it is in a shootout when you get the drop on you.”
Jogging forward, John met him there in the middle. “What the hells was that all about?”
“I don’t know,” Kyle said, “but it’s not about some fuckin’ monster.”
One of the men they had taken down groaned.
Kyle turned. “Looks like we forgot to finish the job.” He lifted his repeater with one hand.
“Wait,” John said.
“What?” Kyle asked with a shrug. “We’re not gonna let this overlord lackey scumbag off the hook, are we?”
“Maybe,” John said.
The man glanced at them, clearly aware that he was in the midst of the two men he and his squad were supposed to kill.
“If he’s a good boy,” John continued, “we’ll let him live.”
“All right,” Kyle said, realizing what John had just said was for their new prisoner’s benefit and not his.
“You here that, big guy?” Kyle asked. “We want you to squeal.”
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