djtenku | [writing] Project Chaos

Title: Departure
Word Count: 1943
Summary: Predators. Scowl. Six.

The six members of the special mercenary team moved through the boreal forest like ghosts, invincible to the eye but made their presence known. The bright moonlight continued to bend and distort their forms, sometimes shining like the Northern Star for a nanosecond before fading away to oblivion. The mercenary marked with a red skull patch held up a tight gloved fist and the rest stopped. The leader turned to them and signaled two and pointed to himself, and then signaled the other three spreading his fingers as much as the gloved allowed. Then he clasped his hands together in a single muffled sound. They nodded in confirmation; the three went their separate ways and stopping within an equal distance of each other. The other two followed him and eventually separated, repeating the same action of the others, to form a wide circle.

True was this their first deployment, he can tell his teammates were quite chatty about it, but being buried within the confines of the base allowed them enough time to prepare for such a thing. It had been at least three –or four- months since they’ve been hired. Odd though that they’ve never seen the object that they were ordered to protect.

“Status?”
“Jammers are eighty percent within the mile perimeter. Nightvision in full function. All communication links are in order and secured,” said all five heavy voices in his ear, clear as the sky.
“Estimated arrival?”
“Two minutes.”

The leader made a twisted resemblance of a smile. Hopefully, whomever they are, they will provide somewhat of a challenge.

-

Sol sat back in his chair, placing his muddy shoes on the metal table with a loud clank, and picked his teeth with a pick, getting rid of any food and flinging it clear across the kitchen. He yawned widely and stretched; somewhere in the nearby room retched up their meager dinner and collapsed upon smelling the petroleum aroma.

“Oh come on!” he bellowed. “I took a shower an hour ago. You’re exaggerating!”

Sol nearly toppled over his chair backwards when he felt his legs go elsewhere and grabbed the side of the table and a part of the cold floor. Doing so heated the table to a warm rose and the floor bent in heat distortion. “Whoever did that will pay!” he yelled as he got up. His face paled when he saw Lang standing over him on the other side, arms crossed, and with a scowl on his dark face.

“Didn’t your mother tell you the table is for eating only?” he asked.

Sol scoffed. “She did before I burned her. I always found her annoying...” He fished around his pockets and pulled out a silver lighter, marked with an engraved rose with a knife through the center and began flickering the switch. “How’s that old bastard – Xander is it?”

“Barely alive, still ain’t talking one bit.” Lang gave a thoughtful look. “Maybe it’s because I broke his jaw, who knows.” He grabbed a nearby chair and sat, well away from the still red table. “He kept saying something about his family, how he misses them. Y’know, that type of bullshit; it’s pointless.” He then added, “Though he pretty much gave up after you came.”

“Uh-huh.” Sol found himself under the glare of his leader when he looked up in absence and sank into his chair. “Well, maybe he would if you wouldn’t beat him to a pulp,” he dared. “I don’t know; get Taka.”

“That’s too much,” Lang admitted. He smiled. “For now anyway.” He turned at the sound of boots echoing through the partially empty kitchen area; he could have sworn it was a mercenary –only without the helmet, insignia, and small disc- that was left behind, but he scratched the thought as grey, sightless eyes stared at him fiercely. “Speak of the Devil,” Lang said, laughing. “Must’ve heard us through the walls?”

Taka ignored the affront, waving if off with a slow hand. “It seems that our hostage has friends; intruders are coming in from the east.”

“Intruders?” Sol sat up, brown eyes sparking with a glint. “How many?”

“Three. However there could be more.” Taka shrugged. “I’ve already sent Roya and six others. Xander has been moved to the underground.”

“Huhn, sending your own daughter to do the dirty work,” Lang said as Taka approached him. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I can easily decapitate you at this range,” he said in a low voice as he passed by, “Gou Zhuang.” He slinked through the kitchen and out into the lobby, disappearing from sight.

“If you say so,” Lang replied through gritted teeth, balling his hands into fists.

Sol, however, was too enthralled with the lighter to notice that there was a large dent in the wall just feet away from him and Lang storming out from the building.

-

Rowan waited until he heard anymore footsteps before climbing back up the slope, still eyeing the posts and spotlights with caution. The owls, still in flight, were still circling, screeching. A moment later, they flew elsewhere, away from sight. He sighed out of relief, releasing a puff of frozen air and moved on, trailing the treeline that separated him and the base.

He stopped when he saw a white light flash at the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw nothing; he hoped that the hallucination wasn’t starting now...

Rowan gripped the Dragunov strapped to his back a little tighter when he began again. He began to think; it was quite odd that the radio was working fine during the HALO jump. In fact, it was being used then. Why would it not function right now? Unless...

He gazed ahead and fifteen feet away snow fell from a high branch that swayed ever so slightly.

Fwip. Before he reacted to the sound, a trickle of blood ran down his pale face. Instinct took over as soon as he realized what had happened and took cover behind a tree that was marked with slashes and exposed bark, quickly assembling the sniper rifle. Only enough for thirty shots, Rowan reminded himself. He thumbed his cheek, wiping away the red liquid in which has dried and frozen.

Before he even thought about what the object was, yet another branch swayed, this time closer than the other. Nothing else happened, to his relief and dismay. It was three minutes before he moved, and at the same time heard a string pull back.

Rowan ducked at the sound of the string being released, hearing the sudden whistle of wind and the crunching sound of the objects upon the tree. He glanced up to see two metallic arrows jutting out of the tree before taking off, following the sounds of the branches. He got further away from the base and deep into the boreal forest where the trees became more clustered and dense. Eventually, the sound of breaking twigs, and he stopped, catching his breath. There’s gotta be a way to find this guy, he thought, looking around.

He whirled around, snapping off a round at the first sight of a leaning branch. Something sparked electricity and revealed a white, slender figure with a yumi-styled bow and two pearl quivers staring at him with emerald eyes, clutching its shoulder. Rowan blinked in confusion, feeling lightheaded before the whistle of wind brought back his attention.

He ducked again, and quickly line sights with the tree, only to see the figure had disappeared, leaving behind a swaying branch. As he turned again, he caught sight of a blade shining to his left and easily grasped the hand, wretching the knife away and tossed it elsewhere in the snow. He smelled a strong aroma of vanilla that almost made him sick; he grabbed the other incoming before the figure twisted out of his slackened grip. In a fluid motion the figure stepped forward him, sweeping a foot under him, and pushed with a single hand while bringing out an arrow from the quiver with the other.

Rowan grunted as he landed hard, his gun flinging just out of his long reach. He stared at the figure as it pointed the metallic arrow, still staring at him, but not with a glare. He noticed that they were filled with surprise and maybe a trace of fright. The figure pulled back the obtrusive veil and scarf, revealing a dark cat-like face, softly angled and small.

“A woman?” he thought aloud. But why did she look like the woman from two nights ago? Why did she look exactly like the woman in his hallucination? The images mixed in his mind’s eye as he gazed at her.

“You,” Roya whispered, in fear or anger Rowan didn’t know.

-

“Nothing but static,” Shin said as she closed the link. “It’s been a while since we heard from Rowan… he said something about ‘six coming’. You don’t think something happened to him, do you?”

“Six coming?” Kento stopped brushing his gloved finger against the bright scar that marked his face. “Six what?”

Shin shrugged. “Don’t know, it cut off right after that. That had to be…ten, fifteen minutes ago, tops. Wait a bit longer?”

“No, something’s up. Rowan would’ve been back by now. Did you try the other links?” He swore aloud. “It was working just great when we HALOed. How can it go bad now?” A distant gunshot caught his attention and instinctively unholstered his Glock 17. He glanced at Shin and she had pulled out both her Glock and M9.

“There’s the answer,” she said quickly, taking off after her squad leader. The trees were a blur as they ran through the forest with only that one sound of gunfire as the guidance; the snow succumbed to the rapid footsteps. Shin suddenly stopped as she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise sharply.

“What’s wrong?” Kento asked as he came up beside her. “Why’d you stop?”

She grew stuff as her eyes wandered. “There’s someone here,” she replied in a quiet voice. “We’re being watched right now.”

He glanced around with a bewildered look. “I don’t see anyone.”

“Listen, then,” Shin instructed. “What do you hear?”

Eventually, Kento heard a peculiar that of a full set of nails scratching a brand-new chalkboard. Thankfully, it was mute but it did strike him as something he didn’t want to hear, but still, he cringed.

“It’s high-pitched,” he said slowly, “...kinda like the sound that stealth makes when it’s on. Damn, and it sounds like there’s a few more too.”

“How many in all?”

“Enough to surround us; how far I don’t know.” Kento fell silent, in thought. Those damn owls...they were the system. But how is it that the links don’t work now when they were a few minutes ago? “Shin, take the right side; I’ll take the left. Make a path if you can.” He slipped in a fresh magazine in and pocketed the other.

He could only hear the combination of silence, the sound of nail grating, and the moderate footsteps of his own and Shin’s crushing the snow. The owls were long gone and so was that single gunshot. Just what the hell was going on anyway? The nail grating soon turned into power charging up as he passed a innocent tree and paused.

A blurred shape stood on his blind side – the right side of him, distorted and reflecting some of the bright moonlight and produced a small blue aura that surrounded. The noise died off and there was only the sound of distance footsteps and a click as he made a single step.

“Freeze,” a growl told him.