Chapter 9: Babylon Triumph: Part 1

"Is this place enough comfortable?" — Alicia asked when we entered a relatively small but comfortably furnished room with a small table, a couple of armchairs and a sofa.

"Yes, quite." — I replied.

There is really enough space to sit comfortably here for everyone, a snack (mainly for Chloe) has already been brought. And we don't need more. It wouldn't hurt to just close the only window here, which I did, quickly moving the rather thick curtains and plunging the room into semi-darkness.

When it was dark enough in the room and everyone was sitting around me, I took out a tablet and put it on the table in front of us. A couple of taps, and the display, which does not exceed the size of the smartphone, projects its holographic copy in front of it, enlarged to the dimensions of a good monitor. The girls, from among those who have not yet seen my technological tricks from earth, stared at all this with a mixture of surprise and childish delight, which slightly caused a slight smile of superiority from Olga and an ironic laugh from Chloe. I would probably have laughed at their reaction too if it wasn't for what I was going to show them.

A few more touches, now on the icons hanging in the air, and an image appears on the screen. The recording showed the interior of the landing shuttle compartment. It was conducted by the word from my eyes, which at that time were already artificial, and showed the audience a metal wall, it is also the side of the shuttle, along which seats with fasteners stretch. There are people sitting in them, dressed in dirty gray armor made up of hexagonal cells. Each of them was unique in his own way, everyone had a different facial expression, hairstyle, eye color, someone had scars. But there is one thing for everyone, a common face. My face. Now they are frozen, in different poses, waiting for me to press start.

Unbeknownst to me, a warm smile crept onto my face.

"Why do they look so much like you?" — Prim asked timidly, touching with her childlike spontaneity.

"These are my brothers." — The girl's eyebrows flew up, and her mouth opened slightly. Very cute. — "I had a big family."

"You had?" — Maya asked, which surprised me somewhat. Since that very skirmish, we have hardly spoken to her and most of the time we were far from each other.

"Yes, I had..." — I answered uncertainly. There is no guarantee that they are still alive and still fighting somewhere out there, on a distant Land. Although I really want to hope for it. Very.

"I'm sorry ..." — Although Maya asked such a tactless question, she apologized for it, which in principle conveyed the general mood. What all the girls around me are good at, without exception, is empathizing, even my dark elves, though the latter are only with me.

"When you said that you are very similar with them, I did not think that so much." — Olga defused the atmosphere a little, carefully examining the faces on the record, probably comparing them with me.

"Hmm, surprise!" — I laughed, and then mentally slapped myself for being distracted. — "I must warn you. This is especially true of you, Prim, Celestine." — I take turns looking into the eyes of the most impressionable members of our small company. — "Things you are about to see may shock you, even to the point of nightmares." — I said this for a reason, I myself woke up in a cold sweat for a long time afterwards, although I had not dreamed at all before. — "Not to mention that there will be a lot of blood and death."

In response, he received only resolute nods. Well, I warned you.

"Okay." — I nodded and pointed at the "start" button. — "Then share with me one of the worst days of my life."

The conversations subsided as soon as the sound from the speakers dispersed around the room and the frozen picture came to life.

— [Is it in your world, Carrier?]

— [Yes. Don't you know?]

— [I haven't looked into this section. I thought that the data from there is something personal, and it will be unpleasant for you if I look at them without asking.]

— [Thank you]

The members of the Fenrir squad stirred, chatting and exchanging jokes. There was a low hum in the compartment, consisting of voices, the sound of engines running, and the tapping of feet and gun butts on the metal floor.

— "Wow.!"

— "As alive…"

— "Can I touch them?"

The girls, as if hypnotized, looked at the recording, catching every glint in the picture with their eyes. Even the dark elves, though they held up better than others. Of course, I have already shown them the images, and after the first time, it was almost impossible to tear Chloe away from the music, I even noticed her quietly singing along to some compositions she particularly liked. But, nevertheless, singing and drawings are one thing, they can draw here, and sound recording, although amazing, is tolerable, but video is a completely different level.

I feel like Moses, who pushes the sea apart with the power of thought and calls for manna from heaven.

[Pf-f-f... nothing special.] — But Martha was not impressed, which is not surprising.

"Kay!" — A voice from the other end of the compartment attracted the attention of the person from whose face the recording was being made. The picture jerked with a turn of the head, showing the speaker.

"What?" — The operator responded in my voice.

"Oh! They're talking!" — Prim screamed, and immediately put her hands over her mouth in shame. However, she was not alone in her emotions, everyone else was also with bright eyes, ready to climb headfirst on the other side of the screen in order to see how everything was arranged from the inside, and only Pride and the Rules of decency did not allow them to do this. With a capital letter, yes.

"Why are you sitting there like you've got water in your mouth?" — Rusty asked meanwhile. Of all of us, he was the most good-natured and compassionate. Always sparkling with a bald head and a positive white-toothed smile, which contrasts with a long scar through his left eye, giving him a scary look. He was sitting on the very edge, near the door to the cockpit, and in order to see me well, he leaned forward strongly, not falling out of the seat only thanks to the safety belts.

"For what purpose are you interested?" — You can't see it on the record, but I remember for sure that I smiled then.

"Checking the morale of our leader before the battle, of course!"— Rusty replied. — "If you feel bad, don't worry, I can always replace you in such a responsible position!"

"Nah! Rusty, you won't be able to become a commander instead of Kay." — One of the guys, Archie, I think, strangled the poor guy's hope at the root. Yes, he's right there, his sniper rifle is next to him.

"They wanted to displace you?" — Olga asked, frowning, pushing me with her shoulder and bringing me out of a light nostalgic trance.

"What makes you think that? These are our usual jokes. Nothing serious, none of the guys would try to be in charge instead of me. And it wouldn't work, even if someone wanted to." — Judging by the expression on her face, she's worried. Even if a hypothetical danger has threatened me in the past. Pleasantly. — "Rusty generally liked to make a good joke. Well, at least he was genuinely trying to do it. It turned out, however, not very well."

"Hmm ..." — the sorceress did not answer anything and turned back to the screen.

"Hey!" — On which poor Rusty was indignant about his heavy share. — "How can I not?"

— "Maybe because you're an asshole?"

The shuttle's side was drowned in laughter.

"Yeah? Hmm ... somehow I didn't think ..." — Pretending to be thoughtful, but in fact trying not to laugh with everyone, Rusty scratched his chin with his fingers. — "A good version! Explains a lot..." — Here he made a spiritually moronic face. — "But I won't give up! And I will become the best commander, dattebayo!"

Another fit of laughter echoed off the metal walls.

"Come up when you learn to play billiards with dice." — I said, laughing. — "Although then you won't be able to become a commander, but immediately a God…"

Squinting at the flock of women next to me, I note how they are watching such a seemingly primitive action with undying interest. I have been a mystery to them until now, and they are probably all very flattered by the fact that I have revealed some of my secrets to them. Even Maya is not far away from the others.

"And what is billiards? And how can the ability to play it with dice make you a god?" — Prim, of course, couldn't resist asking.

"Folklore of my homeland, don't take it seriously." — I shrugged my shoulders.

In parallel, the events on the screen developed further. Suddenly, the speaker connecting the cargo hold to the cockpit came to life.

"Gentlemen, pack your things! We'll be at the drop-off point in two minutes." — The pilot informed the squad in a hoarse voice distorted by the speaker.

"So, you heard him, jokes aside! Getting ready!" — Having lost the cheerful notes, my voice on the recording became strict and focused. With a single movement, causing sighs from the audience, amazed by the synchronicity of movements, and I have a surge of pride, all the members of the Fenrir squad, including my digital double, took out helmets with a blind visor from under the seats. And at the same time, weeks of them on their heads. For a moment, the image faded, leaving a solid blackness in front of us, but then it rippled and recovered. This was how the eye implants were synchronized with the helmet electronics. In addition, symbols appeared in the corners displaying current data, such as a rangefinder, an inactive ammunition counter, squad status indicators and armor status. For girls, all these symbols remained incomprehensible, but not for long.

[I'm translating it into Eostian.] — Martha echoed in her head, and all the inscriptions changed to the writing familiar to the inhabitants of this world. By the way, a funny fact: Eostian sounds almost indistinguishable from Eart's English. I, at least, have been quietly communicating on it since my appearance in the Tower. Minor differences created no more difficulties in communication than for the natives of the British Isles, a conversation with the inhabitants of the North American mainland. The text is another matter. There are as many as fifty-six letters in Eostian, none of which has anything to do with the letters of the English alphabet. I first came across this when I was going through Beasley's former office. It's good that Marta came to the rescue, putting simultaneous translation right on top of the text I was reading.

How it turned out that two such different languages can be so similar at the same time, I could not understand. And I don't need it, to be honest.

The seat fastenings unfastened, allowing everyone to stand up, which the whole squad did. Having secured their weapons and equipment, everyone froze in anticipation of further commands. Except me. I walked briskly to the ramp leading out, which was about to descend.

— "Report readiness!" — I commanded.

— "Fenrir-1 is ready!"

— "Fenrir-2 is ready!"

— "Fenrir-3…

"...Fenrir-10 is ready!" — The last fighter finished and the turn came to me.

"Fenrir-leader. The Fenrir squad is ready to disembark." — I calmly reported to the pilot over the intercom.

Less than a minute later, they answered me.

"We are in place, gentlemen. Give'em hell!" — The pilot wished good luck and the ramp rose quickly, letting in gusts of cold wind mixed with the roar of engines.

"Lets go!" — I commanded in a voice muffled by my helmet, and the guys one by one rushed past me diving into the void. I left them behind for a while, also jumping down towards the land visible far below.

That time I decided to show off and did a backflip in the jump, which is why the shuttle carrying us came into view for a second. The assault on the fanatics' base began in the dead of night, which is why we couldn't see something with the naked eye, but our improved physiology allowed us to see well in the dark, so the silhouette of the aircraft was clearly visible through the pitch darkness.

— "What is it?"

— "From the sky?!"

— "Goddess!"

The ladies began to express emotions randomly, as soon as they realized at what height the shooting was being conducted. I can understand them. For a person who comes from a medieval culture, it is impossible to even imagine that a person is able to rise so high. The recording, of course, does not betray the full range of sensations, but even that is enough to plunge them into a deep shock.

"And... how many of... things like this do you have?" — Olga was the first to recover, and, of course, immediately hurried to satisfy her curiosity. Besides, the question was not entirely idle. As a ruler, she probably admitted the possibility that where one such beautiful me appeared, there might be others, and now, most likely, she began to figure out what opportunities the aircraft provides. And she realized what would happen if she suddenly had to face those who are able to build and use it.

"Flights were mastered a hundred and fifty years ago, and today it is commonplace." — I couldn't resist showing off. — "So quite a few. However, due to the war, civil flights practically stopped…"

"One hundred and fifty years..." — whispered Alicia. — "But after all, if it happened so long ago, at least once someone would have already flown here. But no one has ever seen such things in the sky..."" — Here she jerked as if from an electric shock. — "How far is your home?"

"So far away that there is no hope of returning there. I sighed sadly." — If you want, we can discuss it later.

— "Okay…"

The picture blinked again, turning green. This turned on the night vision, making the outlines of the earth below us more distinct. There was a battle going on. Rockets and tracers were flying from the mountainside into the plateau in front of her. In the opposite direction, an even more intense fire of the advancing troops was conducted. Explosions flashed here and there, the brightness of which was extinguished by the helmet systems so as not to blind the operator.

The other slope, unlike the first, was empty. It was to him that the detachment was heading.

"And so, listen here, once again I will repeat the purpose of our assignment. While our brave mobile infantry is fighting them head-on, distracting most of the attention, you and I will sneak into the very center of their lair, grab their leader by the ass, and just as quietly disappear into the night, just like a ninja." — An image of a handsome elderly man with a strong-willed face in a monk's cassock popped up in the corner of my vision. — "Here he is, my dear. Name is Kolo Svyattsev, 68 years old, born in Bulgaria. The founder, ideological inspirer, and permanent leader of the radical Christian terrorist cult "The Last Judgment", where he is better known as the "Shepherd". Crazy, but incredibly cunning bastard, so when we get inside, we behave as carefully as possible."

"And they've built a pretty big house for themselves." — One of the guys whistled. — "It's hard for our people down there."

"Before the cataclysm, there was a network of caves with minerals in these mountains. Later, a mining company settled here. When the big fuck came, this desk, like many others, sank into oblivion, but the underground infrastructure did not go away. These assholes use it to transferring reinforcements. It's pretty easy to defend narrow spaces, so they can sit here until Christmas if nothing is done. Fortunately, the old tunnel schemes have been preserved. It's clear that something may not match, but we know approximately where to move." — I explained to the guys.

"They got in there like rats, and now we have to dig them out." — Someone else commented. — "Where did the command look while they were gathering their coven here?"

— "No one cared about the screaming idiots when the clams came. No one could have predicted that they would move from words to actions until it was too late, and their fucking cult did not cover half the world. A third added."

— "Yeah, and there are fucking aliens living on the second one now. We were born in interesting times, I'll tell you."

— "We were born to help clear up all this shit, so we stop talking too much and get to work. The earth is already close."

— "Boss, you're such a bore sometimes…"

That was the end of the conversation. Braking modules were activated on the squad's suits — a one-time mounted system that uses an experimental antigravity generator that reduces the speed of falling to safe landing speeds. It is worth saying that they were safe only for people like us, for ordinary people this method threatens serious fractures, and even death.

A transparent haze enveloped the figures of the paratroopers and the speed of the fall began to decrease rapidly. Almost at the very ground, in a few dozen meters, it became almost zero, but then the battery charge of the landing modules exhausted itself and the group had to spend the rest of the way in free fall.

Having collided with the ground with his feet, the operator did a somersault to extinguish inertia and cheerfully jumped to his feet.

"Status!" — The status of the fighters is already displayed in the interface, but it's better to check by voice, because overlays happen with enviable regularity.

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— "Fenrir-1 is normal!"

— "Fenrir-2 is normal!"

— "Fenrir-3…"

Everything was fine this time.

"Great. The entrance to the ground at this point." — A placemark appeared on the map that did not disappear from the corner of the interface. — "There used to be something like a waste disposal channel, and now there is a back door. There should be few guards, even considering the attack. Eliminate them, go in, grab the goal, and go out." — I explained the plan of action. — "Move on, gentlemen! We went in and out, an adventure for twenty minutes."

— "Stealth pichota at work."

— "Rusty, Fuck!"

— "Someone, ban his channel…"

— "To fail the mission by dying of a cringe... shame on our heads."

From the outside, it might seem that not superhumans imprisoned for murder gathered in one place, but a group of tourists, but this is only for those who could hear the negotiations. In fact, not a sound penetrated out from under the helmets, and each of us was tense and carefully monitored the area around him, ready to respond immediately to any threat.

With swift jerks, from cover to cover, eleven shadows moved through the cover of the night, approaching their goal.

From the landing site to the entrance to the caves was just nothing, some pathetic couple of kilometers. And even rough terrain wasn't a problem for superhumans. Deftly bypassing obstacles, the guys amazed the audience, demonstrating incredible agility, speed, and flexibility. In a couple of minutes, the detachment reached a narrow mountain path that led to a passage hidden in the rocks underground, and moved along it in a chain, looking at each other's backs.

A patrol of two cultists in poor armor and with outdated weapons encountered along the way was destroyed before they could have had a chance to raise the alarm or open fire. They were dealt with without even using long-range weapons, a couple of fighters simply swept them away casually, spending one blow of the HF blades hidden in the armor cuffs. The operator in my person did not even take part in this personally, having received only a voice notification from the brothers in front about the destruction of two enemy manpower units. I just glanced at the two cooling corpses, covered in blood, as I ran past them. It was a familiar sight for people who had been in battle more than once and had seen death, but not everyone was among the observers.

Prim, seeing the dead, even on the screen, opened her eyes wide, turned away, bending over and taking deep breaths of air into her lungs. Fortunately, she managed to overcome the urge to vomit. Her sister immediately came to the girl's aid, jumping off her seat and, bending over her head, whispered something to the impressionable person, soothing stroking her back. Celestine, due to her age, was holding up better, but her knees were shaking, and her fingers creaked crumpled the upholstery of the armrests of the chair.

"This is just the beginning." — I warned, pausing the record player. — "It's going to get worse. Are you sure you want to keep looking?"

"Y-yes..." — the light elf replied in a trembling voice. — "If I want to understand you, I have to overcome myself... besides... how will I help the real wounded during the battle if I'm afraid of fake blood?"

Olga then looked slightly surprised at her crowned colleague, and then nodded with satisfaction. It seems that someone is gaining more and more points in her eyes.

"Prim?" — I didn't doubt the priestess, but the pink-haired girl really bothered me. She looked too innocent and I was ashamed to dip her head in the slop. But, on the other hand, let me do it better, in the form of an exciting story, than someone else, already in reality and with much more devastating consequences for her psyche. Maya worried me a little less that she hadn't said a word until now. The devil knows what's going on in her head. Vaughn, even now, smearing on not with a glance, even with the help of my enhanced senses, I could not make out what was on her mind.

"I'll be watching." — Prim straightened up, sitting up straight in her chair again and gently pushing her sister away from her. The small facial expressions of her face said that she was still very nervous, but the look of her blue eyes was full of determination.

"Okay." — Satisfied with the answer, I stretched out my hand to resume playback, then something crunched loudly from the side.

"I'm sorry ..." — Chloe hid her eyes in embarrassment, holding a crusty bread in her hands. A couple of plates with not so "loud" food next to her were already empty

"Heh..." — our queen couldn't help laughing, which made the poor girl blush even more. Everyone else also smiled slightly, distracted from the not very pleasant scene. I am glad that they are also slowly getting closer to each other and can smile at such small embarrassments, although until recently they considered each other fierce enemies. The common trouble brings us closer.

The atmosphere was relieved after this funny moment and we continued watching.

And the action continued on the screen. In a matter of minutes, the squad reached the desired point, cutting out another patrol along the way. Having stopped at some distance from the tunnel going deep into the rock, we lay down to develop a plan of action.

The entrance was well guarded. By the end, the trail had widened considerably, forming a flat stone platform wide enough to install two anti-aircraft missile systems lined with sandbags on the sides of the entrance. Their weapons can cover both from an air attack and create such a density of fire in the narrow space of a mountain path that anyone who decides to attack will be turned into dust in a second. Searchlights hanging from above for several tens of meters illuminated the space ahead, making it impossible to approach unnoticed, and two dozen armed men who took up positions behind shelters made of the same sandbags or patrolling the site made the fortification completely impregnable.

But not for us.

"Standard scheme, lets work." — Upon hearing this, the fighters nodded, and got down to business. Our interaction with each other has long been worked out to automatism, everyone knows perfectly well what to do.

Five remained on the road. The rest, divided into threes, left the trail, some climbing up the slope, including me, others, on the contrary, going down. Spreading out, we slowly approached the edge of the floodlit area. The interface helpfully indicated who had chosen which goal for himself. A convenient trick to avoid wasting extra ammunition on someone who is already dead. When that was over, it was time to act.

"Archie, turn off the light." — Two shots from a sniper rifle smashed the searchlights, plunging the site into darkness and alarming the defenders. EMP grenades immediately followed from above and below directly under the military equipment, briefly, but qualitatively cutting down electronics, which will not allow them to quickly engage in battle.

Well, then it's our turn. Even when the grenades were flying, the night vision turned off as unnecessary was replaced by thermal, perfectly showing the enemies hiding behind obstacles. Synchronously, as at a rehearsal, we opened fire. Because of the silencers that hid the flashes from the shots, the helpless cultists did not even know where they were being killed from, mercilessly firing in all directions without a chance to get anywhere. At the same time, they themselves fell one by one, struck down by an accurate shot from one of the brothers. Ten seconds, and two dozen people went to the grave. But there are still crews of combat vehicles. After making a jump down the slope, I landed right on the roof of one of them, while the other was occupied by the guys who climbed up the slope from below. The HF blade is a deadly melee weapon, thanks to the ultra-fast vibrations of the blade, which can cut armored steel like butter. In order to open the hatch on the armor, you can't think of anything better. Inserting the blade into the gap between the lid and the walls of the hatch, I cut off the lock pins and hinges in one circular motion, then I stand up and push it aside with my foot.

The barrel of the gun was already looking at me from the inside, but its owner did not have time to shoot, catching my own bullet. After his body fell to the bottom of the machine, a grenade went off, and I jumped to the ground. Someone screamed from inside, but this scream was interrupted by an explosion that turned the crew into bloody pieces. A second later, another explosion sounded. The second machine also destroyed.

At this point, I decided to pause and look at the reaction of the girls and was not disappointed. Eyes the size of a nickel are the least that can be said.

"Now I understand what you meant when you said that ranged combat is important." — Alicia's eyes were frozen with complete fucking — "But I didn't even guess what exactly you mean by that…"

I just grinned at that. Other girls reacted differently, but within my expectations. Prim and Celestine turned pale, but, to give them their due, they held on. Chloe was clearly impressed, but tried to keep her brand. Maya... was herself, but Olga surprised me — she grimaced as if she had eaten a whole lemon. Catching my questioning look, the monarch sighed. — "Our people will not be able to implement something similar to what we seen. A completely different level."

"It is not required. And, to be honest, not everyone could have done it on Earth either." — I sighed. — "Our squad was special…"

The entrance to the dungeon was a heavy hermetic door embedded in stone. Just like that, it was impossible to cut through it with vibro—knives. Tt was too thick, and opening it in this way would take a lot of time. But there was an easier way.

"Glave, bring the bottle opener." — I said briefly and stepped aside, a fighter slipped past me to the door, removing a rectangular device from a magnetic mount on the move.

My chest prickled. An image of Gleave sitting in a pool of his own blood, clutching a terrible wound on his stomach with his only hand, appeared in my imagination.

— [Go... brother...]

Shaking my head, I drive away the obsession. I did everything I could. And even died myself next.

But now I'm alive.

And what about him?

Once again I gave myself a mental slap. There's nothing to stir up the past. It wasn't enough for the others to notice something.

I look around furtively to check. The girls didn't notice. Engrossed in watching "blockbuster". Or is it a snuff? It doesn't matter.

The opener is what we called among ourselves a universal device for hacking everything in which there is complex electronics, and for which there are not enough standard means available in the armor. Limited by the fact that a direct connection via cable is required for use. This is more reliable, although a wireless option is provided.

"Done." — Glave reported, standing next to the dashboard, which had a torn cover, and a wire sticking out of the contacts, stretching to the opener. Pressing something on the holographic display, he triggered the mechanism of the door, and it hissed away, hiding in a depression in the rock. Behind it, the eyes of the squad the audience opened a tunnel with traces of now removed rails on the floor and lamps hung at an equal distance.

"And.. that's it!" — After these words of Glave, the light, as if by a click, went out, leaving blackness in front of our eyes. — "I got to their generator. For the next twenty minutes, they're like blind kittens now, that's for sure."

"That's enough." — I nodded and waved my hand, pointing ahead. — "Let's move."

Then, for the audience, everything looked like the passage of some AAA shooter on ultra graphics, if they of course knew what to compare with. The Fenrir squad moved through the cultists' base like a knife through butter, ruthlessly sweeping away any resistance in its path. Bright flashes of shots, explosions, roar, blood. Disoriented and frightened fanatics could not organize a clear defense, but even just figure out where exactly they would be killed in the next second. And all this under jokes and ridicule over the intercom, which only added more colors to the picture of total superiority.

Even when the enemies restarted the generators and the light returned, nothing changed, except that a small element of stealth disappeared, giving way to an even greater drive.

Gradually, as I watched, I remembered all the feelings I had experienced then. We were like the gods of war. Battles are what we lived by, what we knew best, and from which we received sincere pleasure. When the adrenaline is boiling in the blood, and all the senses are sharpened to the limit and life is hanging by a thread — that's what made us truly alive.

The next cave on the way of the detachment turned out to be larger than the others and was most likely a warehouse. At least, this was hinted at by the abundance of shelves and drawers, scattered, however, without any order. Mixed with the remnants of mining equipment and other debris, they made up a maze in which fanatics were swarming around trying to figure out a kind of fortifications from this outrage in order to meet an unexpected attack from the rear while their comrades were dying, buying time. But they didn't have time.

"I fucking love this shit." — Our bomber laughed, sending inside through the passage a whole flock of frog mines switched to the free search mode. A few seconds later, shots were heard from the other side, and then a whole series of small explosions began, each of which took someone's life.

"Let's go." — I commanded, and the squad burst into the cave and spread out, firing murderously accurate fire.

"I bet our client isn't here either." — One of the brothers said.

"And that's weird." — Added the second. — "There are a lot of these freaks here, and then there will be even more. We have already been noticed and are reacting."

"He must be somewhere nearby." — I encouraged the guys, at the same time kicking over a high rack with scrap metal on the heads of two opponents who sat behind it, after which I finished off each with a shot to the head.

— "Yes, but at this rate, we will meet with the main forces before we find him."

The loud sound of hydraulics cut into the cacophony of the battle, followed by the roar of an automatic cannon. At the opposite end of the cave, a four-meter walking robot rose from the floor, scattering the garbage that was covered with it. It was covered with thick armor, invulnerable to light weapons and shrapnel, Even the glazed cockpit was made of a special polymer, not inferior to armored steel. You can't use EMI against him — there's simply nothing to burn there. On the right manipulator he had a 20-mm autocannon, from which he was watering the space in front of him, the left one turned out to be empty. And it was a great success — usually a block of unguided missiles is attached there.

— "What the fuck!"

— "Rhino!"

— "Underground?! They're fucked up!"

We had to lie low to avoid being dealt. No matter how tough we are, 20 millimeters will tear us to pieces, just like anyone else. The opponents did not miss the opportunity to go on the offensive, and, under the cover of an armored giant, they gradually began to push us back.

Together with two other guys, I hid behind a thick and wide armor plate, which was hit by enemy bullets and Rhinoceros shells. Each hit of the autocannon caused the shelter to shudder and split off pieces flying in all directions.

— "And how to kill this? We have zero heavy weapons!"

— "Who even thought of bringing this shit here?"

— "These are fanatics! They have only big shit in their heads, and logic follows the residual principle…"

Conducting loud negotiations, the fighters retreated, changing shelters, which quickly turned into dust under the fire of the robot. No one received direct hits, and the armor saved them from fragments. But it couldn't last forever. Sooner or later, but we would have been squeezed back into the tunnel, where nothing would have helped from the heavy fire. Something had to be done urgently.

The Rhino is one of the first walking combat vehicles. Technology had not yet made a qualitative leap forward, so it had many drawbacks. One of them is the slowness and limited angle of rotation of the main caliber. For long distances, this is not a problem, but close up you can find enough room to maneuver and not get under fire. Which I decided to use.

"So, I have a plan!" — The conversations immediately subsided and the members of the squad, without stopping shooting back, turned to hearing. — "He can't shoot everyone at once, so, Glave! Distract him from your flank. Do what you want, but he should only look at you."

"Accepted." — Glave replied shortly.

— "While he's busy, I'll walk around the far wall and fry his ass. Archie, cover me, the rest of you do the meat. Let's get started!"

At the same moment, grenades flew under the giant's feet. They did not cause any damage, but they forced the pilot to pay attention to those who used them, because none of us had used them before, being content with rifles. Glave and three other guys deliberately leaned out from behind the shelters for a second and immediately scattered, and shells immediately flew into the place where they were.

— "Come on, boss!"

After receiving the signal, I immediately took off, bypassing the robot in a wide arc. The first soldier who got in my way got a sniper bullet — Archie was watching and guarding me.

Lost among the wreckage, I was rushing at full speed to my goal, destroying everyone in my path.

Here, a gawking fanatic, did not notice me and got a kick that sent him flying, which ended at the nearest wall. The two cultists firing at me from behind the boxes fell down with holes in their heads, and a second later I jumped over their shelter and rushed on at full speed. The head that flashed somewhere in front exploded with bloody fragments from the shot of our sniper, freeing my way to the enemy's rear. The guys did a good job and the remaining enemies did not notice how I went behind them. Several cultists, enthusiastically firing at the brothers located at the other end, were mercilessly shot by me in the back, freeing me the way to the belly of the Rhinoceros, whose pilot still did not see me. Two charges of magnetic explosives, thrown by me, attach to his leg, and the third lands on the manipulator with a gun.

A dash for cover. Press the detonator. Explosion.

Both legs and arm of the robot were torn from the fastenings with a screech and scattered in all directions by the shock wave along with smaller fragments, turning those who were unlucky into mincemeat. The robot's torso was also thrown to the side, but not far away, and it remained relatively intact, only the armor was crumpled, and the cabin cracked.

After that, it was a matter of technique to finish off the remaining ones, and soon only the Fenrir squad remained standing in the large cave. In full force. Everything went without losses, only two were slightly injured. Nothing we can't handle.

When there were no enemies left around, I returned to the remains of the Rhino. Through the cracked glass of the cockpit, the pilot looked at me with horror. When I stopped right in front of him, he was twitching, getting tangled in the straps, and shouting something.

Taking out the HF knife, I carefully cut a hole in the glass, put it back, and then pushed the rifle barrel inside and fired a bullet straight into the pilot's skull.

The fight was over.

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