Advancing toward the compound, staying low to avoid detection. I crawl into some nearby desert shrubs and watch two Mercs near a parked Humvee. One is scanning the darkening horizon, and the other is leaning against the Humvee sipping a bottle of water. The one peering through his binoculars is yammering on and on about his big win at the Poker table in Vegas. The merc finishes his water and tosses the bottle on the ground. He ducks his head and reaches in his truck.
Litterbug dies first.
I leap from the thicket and plunge my wrist blade into his lung. His friend whips around with his rifle. I draw my 45 while using his partner as a meat shield and put two in his chest and one in his head. I take one of the Mercenary’s grenades and pull the pin on it, but I hold the spoon down. Holding the spoon keeps it from exploding. It’s how we cooked off frags in the army. I lay the Mercs head on the grenade. Now I have a nice little human trap for when his buddies come running to inspect the commotion. I pull a few Claymores from my pack and hide them on opposite sides of the dirt trail. I pick up one of their G-36’s and start popping rounds into the air. Tossing the rifle, I take cover behind a boulder that gives me some elevation.
Clouds of dust trail behind two Humvees speeding toward me with gun mounts. This could get nasty if I don’t hit those fifties first. The marks arrive at the aftermath of my two slayings. Four men dart from the Humvee. Flipping the safety off, I line up the Red Dot sight with the gunner’s head on the twin fifty Cals. The other half of the hired guns investigate the bodies. When they find my little gift, I will set off the Claymores and open up on those gunners and then finish off the rest my traps didn’t get. A woman in desert camo kneels near the body and turns it over. An explosion rips through the two Mercs reducing them to fleshy chunks. I trigger the Claymores. Dust explodes from the trail. Steel ball bearings and razor-sharp bone fragments of their comrades fly into their ranks eviscerating the rest of the poor bastards. The gunners consumed by panic and confusion, they fire blindly into the dust cloud created by explosions. I switch my specs to thermals and fire a three-round burst ventilating the gunner’s skull. His head jerks back and slumps in the gunner’s seat. The second one screams in rage and trains his machine gun on my position and just before that beast opens up my rifle bucks. Spraying brain matter across the Humvee.
I keep low using the rock formations for cover as I approach the facility. I switch my sunglasses to night vision as the day succumbs to night. It’s now pitch black out here, without night vision my only source of light would be the massive floodlights on the compound. There’s a three-person patrol moving toward the fiery wreck peering down their sights scanning the horizon with their night vision scopes. Drawing my Katana, I creep up on their left flank. The blade slices Merc one across the neck. My sword finds a home in Merc two’s gut. I slam a round kick into the sternum of Merc three’s chest knocking him on the ground stealing the air from his lungs. After ripping the sword from Merc two’s belly, I plunge it into Merc three’s thorax killing him instantly. After wrenching my sword from his chest, I advance to the base.
Nothing is going to stop me from destroying this place you pieces of shit.
I come to a guardhouse with a woman armed with an AA12. She is frantically yelling for reinforcements on her earpiece. I charge into the house. She screams as I spin her around and deliver a fist to the throat, abruptly silencing her. She struggles for air. I snatch a wad of her hair and bash her head into the concrete wall of the guard house till I hear the sound of her skull cracking like an egg. I throw her lifeless body on the ground, leaving a bloody smear on the wall.
Pushing the button, the front gate opens alarms scream as I step out of the guard house. I take off the sunglasses when the place lights up brighter than Times Square. I dart through the cluster of metal crates and slide behind a Humvee. “Clare?”
“What’s up?”
“I think it’s time we invited Cara to the party.”
“Hell yeah. My girl is gonna make it rain.”
“Good I have a shit load of assholes coming down on my position.”
“Hold on to your tits.”
All the Mercs open fire on the Humvee. Dirt kicks up as the bullets pelt the ground glass rains down on me as rounds blow out the windows.
Damn! Armor piercing rounds.
She laughs maniacally over the Coms. “Making it rain, bitches!” She roars. Explosions rock the area turning night into day. The Gatling gun unleashes a hurricane of lead tearing through the Mercs like tissue paper.
“That was fucking awesome! I love this sexy beast. You’re good. The area is clear, enemy reduced to bloody kibbles and bits.”
“Nice work, Clare.” Leaving the protection of the Humvee, I shoulder my HK and push toward the entrance.
A squad of assholes storms from the door. My suppressor flashes while running for cover. Ducking behind a pair of thick metal containers, bullets plink off the boxes. I pull the pin on the frag and lob it at the entrance. The grenade explodes throwing body parts across the courtyard. Glass crunches beneath my boots as I enter the front door. A wounded Merc missing a leg, crawls through the entrails of his comrades, trying to go for a rifle. I let off single round painting the floor with his brains and continue upstairs to the weapons hold. “Okay, heading to the weapons storage to mark them for the bomber.”
“Copy. Watch yourself, Lilith.”
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