Chapter 6-170: The Portal to the North (+ Survey) (2/2)
“Shut it.” Sama’s Voice flattened the screams and complaints of surprise. “Our rides are up ahead there at that blockade, as are the fuckers who just tried to blow you all up.”
Complaints vanished. Dangerous eyes, and eyes a bit wide at having to face an attack from humans and more action than they wanted, turned north, where Channissey and her squads were flying invisibly on a cluster of Disks ahead of them.
“Smith!?” Sama demanded, with that edge of constant irritability at lack of proficiency that always had them wincing and hopping to obey.
There was a wavering in the air in front of the illusionist, who was crouched low to the ground on the edge of a Disk. A faintly moving image of the prairie behind them, sans all the soldiers on their faces, hovered in front of her. “Got it, sir!”
“Everyone in single file behind me, now!” hissed Sama, moving up behind that Disk, and the women scrambled to obey. “Hand on the woman in front of you! Let’s go!” She began to push, leaving the illusionist to concentrate on her Holo and screen their approach from those behind looking for a sign of them.
---
Sergeant Shannissey was well ahead of them and drawing away by the moment, flying just above the tall grass so as not to cause a wake. The women behind her were nervous but excited, but rapidly calming down. They were the scouts of the units behind, with instincts for hunting and the like, and the fact they were going live was slowly working into their brains, tamping down their nerves and replacing it with dead seriousness.
Fighting monsters was one thing, but this looked like more humans...
Moving at about 45 kph, it took only a bit over a minute to approach the line of heavy vehicles blocking off the road, swinging out and around to approach the group from behind.
Shannissey pulled out her field glasses when they pulled within a hundred yards, and keyed her coms. “Wind, copy.”
“Bitch, copy. Go ahead.” Shannissey smirked despite herself at the terse reply. Not that Sama’s angel-and-whiskey-knives Voice could be mistaken for anything else.
“All men from what I can see, but they’ve got two transports that are closed up. They’ve dug in a machine gun emplacement and firing positions from both sides, and I believe in the grass forward of their position. They are in military garb, but they aren’t moving like soldiers.” The casual strides and lack of discipline was readily apparent at a glance.
“We’ll need the transports. Drop Team One on the east flank, Team Two on the west, and swing around with Team Three to take out the forward firing position.” Doubtless meant to shoot any recalcitrants in the back who didn’t want to turn around.
“Copy that.” Naturally the rest of the incoming company would take them out.
---
“They’ve got forward firing posts to catch people from behind at the blockade. Sergeant Nihala, take over the pushing. You are moving at a walk, no faster, and you will stop at no closer than three hundred yards. I want the Three Robins lined up and ready to pick them off.
“I’m going up to take out their forward position. Two taps is the sign you are ready, everyone.”
“Copy.” “Copy.” “Copy,” came back quietly.
Sama dove forward into the grass ahead, looking much like a snake as she flowed into the grass, flowing forwards... and the grass barely rippled as she passed by, straightening right back up.
---
Nihala stepped up to take the pushing position. The Aethran’s Bow was in the Quiver on her back, but she wasn’t going to contest shooting range with the company’s three cool-eyed snipers and their long rifles. At a mere three hundred yards, the three young women, none of whom were named Robin, would be picking off men like shooting ducks in a barrel.
“Lightfooters ready for the charge,” she growled over her shoulder, and the fastest members of the team got ready to chuck their packs and take off for closer range. They could cover two hundred yards in about fifteen seconds. “Sir, can you tell us what we might be expecting?” she asked softly.
“That’s a Demoncloud,” came the flat reply over coms, drawing all their eyes to the magical vortex spinning there just left of the town several miles away. “Note the puke yellow-green light. Generally, that means we’re dealing with Warlocks, Witches, Hags, and/or Demon Priests, possibly with traditional Casters tagging on, as well as any cultists. They’ve probably got surprises in the transports, which will give us more clues as to the backers when they decide to come on out and surprise us. If I could see their suspension, I could probably get an idea from the weight.”
“So, be ready for surprises.” Sgt. Nihala glowered at those behind her as they cautiously moved ahead.
---
Her Vajra sliced between the grass as easily as the wind, her hair plucked at the grass and kept it straight, barely bowing as she passed by, let alone leaving a trail as she moved. Yes, she had a quarter-mile of distance to cover to her first target, meaning she’d be the last to get into position, but that was fine.
Clicks sounded slowly as Shannissey’s people slid into place behind her, waiting for her to get into place, while the crouching line of soldiers led by the broad, low camouflaging Holo that Smith was keeping in place also kept up.
There it was, a squad of men camouflaged at the edge of the ditch along the road, muttering to one another and wondering what was going on, but at least smart enough not to move around and attract the eye as they kept their guns trained down the road towards the flaming wrecks.
They hadn’t sent anyone out there to inspect the trucks, rightly thinking there were probably survivors out there, and wondering who they might be.
It was a smart decision, but it wasn’t going to save them. They must not have known the relief crew coming in was Powered...
Sama clicked her com from ten feet away from these chowderheads, and waited.
It was five minutes before Nihala’s clear clicks came back. Last one called it.
“Go,” the Amazon ordered crisply.