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“Militarily speaking, the best way to break an ambush is often to assault into the ambush.”
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—unknown.
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Hurling himself from rooftop to rooftop, Pyre rushed to the address that Reforger had given to him, while using the eavesdropping app to listen in on the firefight between Daedalus forces and those of the Crimson Blades, on top of what emergency services were saying on their own frequency, not even bothering to take the time to narrow in on any transmission in particular—Pyre had to focus on moving swiftly so that he got there as soon as possible. So Pyre just let it play in the earpiece while letting Reforger remotely listen in on what Pyre’s smartwatch was picking up.
“…Men down! Command, where the fuck’s that backup? I…”
“…crash site secure, Command. Shit, multiple KIA…”
“…this is dispatch, we’ve got reports of a building collapsing from an explosion. It’s possibly a bombing, and there appears to be a firefight nearby, all units…”
“…all Crimson Blades personnel, prepare…”
“…DEATH TO THE DAEDALUS DOGS!”
Reforger’s voice spoke in Pyre’s ear via the Bluetooth earpiece, saying, “Daedalus is facing stiff Crimson Blade resistance. What are we going to do about that, if anything?”
“Not much,” Pyre replied, “Rescuing Jessica is our only current priority. We can help Daedalus later if we chose to do so. Jessica needs rescuing now. Keep sifting through the audio for any info on her status and location within the premises.”
“Affirmative,” Reforger replied, “Will do, Pyre. I’ll let you know when I have something.”
“Good. We can’t let them move her to another location,” Pyre stated.
“I understand, but move carefully,” Reforger advised Pyre, as he moved from rooftop to rooftop, “They have explosives, and we don’t know enough about them to predict their actions too accurately. They may have strapped some explosives to her, and you can’t save anyone if you’re dead.”
“We don’t have enough time for careful, damn it,” Pyre exclaimed, as automatic gunfire rang out in the distance.
Finally, Pyre reached a street bordering the warehouse facility. Pyre proceeded to hurl himself across the street, over a brick perimeter fence—atop which sat barbed wire—and into a courtyard-like area, next to one of the several warehouse buildings. The fighting hadn't reached this corner of the premises yet, as Daedalus forces were approaching from the other end of the facility, and the courtyard was filled with stacks of shipping containers. It was now that Pyre found himself on the opposite side of the property from the Mississippi River.
“The radio signals I’m intercepting indicate that the Crimson Blades are heavily pulling out of the warehouses, and are doing so by speedboat. They’re heading across the river to Mississippi’s side of the state border. Most—but not all—of their remaining forces are concentrated along the river,” Reforger’s disguised voice said in Pyre’s ear, “Someone called Eagle-Seventeen is yelling at them for having left Jessica behind. He’s going back for her.”
“Which building is she in,” Pyre demanded, as he used more pillars of solidified fire to hurl himself past the shipping containers, and toward the roof of the largest building within the warehouse complex.
“They’re saying she’s in Building One, but I don’t know which part of the building. Daedalus reinforcements are inbound—but they might mistake you for a Crimson Blade. Try not to get shot,” Reforger replied.
“Which building is Building One,” Pyre asked.
“I don’t know, but you’d best be quick,” Reforger replied.
Given that Reforger couldn’t get an answer to Pyre on Jessica’s specific location within the premises, Pyre would just have to search every building, one by one, top to bottom, building by building—killing anyone who tried to stop him, if need be.
There were several warehouse buildings within the complex—all of which had massive vehicular doors along one wall—but the closest building in question looked like a square office building that had been tacked onto the side of a warehouse. There was a portion of the roof that looked like a triangular prism that had been stacked on top of a rectangular prism, and then there was a flat portion of the roof, atop a rectangular, annex that looked like a stereotypical office building. On the flat portion of the warehouse roof—where Pyre had landed—there was a tent, the door to which was open, displaying machines with monitors of some sort. Across this section of the roof were six Crimson Blades, all with assault rifles and wearing body armor—emblazoned with the insignia of a blood-stained knife—over black fatigues, with two of them in the tent.
One of them—not having noticed Pyre yet, and clearly focused on something other than his surroundings—yelled, “Wipe the data, and haul ass! We’re leaving now! We go—.”
He was cut off mid-syllable by Pyre raising his right hand—balled into a fist, and now engulfed in fire—before sending a shower of solidified fire shrapnel, each piece roughly the size of someone’s finger, slamming into them from the fire around that fist. This shower of shrapnel caught and killed three enemies, in addition to wounding a fourth in the chest, as it pierced their body armor and shredded the tent. The wounded Crimson Blade managed to keep standing but looked dazed, having apparently been stunned into inaction. The fifth and sixth Crimson Blades were missed entirely by the shrapnel. In response, they proceeded to run towards the entrance to the tent, raising their rifles to aim at Pyre, before Pyre hurled a wall of fire at them from his hands, setting the tent—and all three remaining Crimson Blades in that area—on fire. Yet, Pyre had no time to even notice the smell of burning flesh, or the odor of their body armor fusing to their skin as it melted.
Seeing a glass skylight on the triangular section of the roof, Pyre began running towards it.
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Jessica was now restrained by a set of handcuffs, instead of the zip cuffs that she’d been forced into earlier, and was waiting for an opportunity. She had to escape from Chad. Chad was moving her to…somewhere else. It wasn’t like she knew where Chad was moving her to, but Jessica could hear what sounded like a large amount of gunfire close by. It had to be a rescue mission of some kind—although it didn’t seem to be going according to the rescuer’s plans, judging by Chad’s actions.
Jessica quickly realized that there was something wrong with the handcuffs. They were defective. She could feel them moving slightly around her wrists. The locking mechanism wasn’t working as it was supposed to, and Chad had not noticed! Chad was holding her by the left arm, with a gun to her head, as he hauled her through the door that led out of the brig area. Jessica decided then to make her move.
Pulling off the defective handcuffs, Jessica tossed them aside as she pulled away from Chad’s grasp. She actually managed to get out of his hands—for three seconds—before Chad somehow knocked her off of her feet. Her lower legs throbbed as she hit the cement floor hard. Then Chad descended onto her, swinging the butt of the pistol held in his hand, over and over again, as Jessica’s body exploded in pain.
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Pyre landed behind a pair of Crimson Blades, the flames that engulfed his hands now elongating and solidifying rapidly, so that by the time he landed, he held a pair of swords, made of orange crystals, with one sword in each hand. Bending his knees to absorb the shock, Pyre stretched his legs out while leaning at a twenty-five-degree angle to the warehouse floor, as he generated a pillar of solidified fire under his feet. Hurling himself forward, Pyre swung both swords as he passed between these two Crimson Blades, cleanly decapitating both of them both with one swing of each sword—both swung simultaneously—as they turned and began to look up at the skylight, where Pyre had been a moment before. He didn’t bother watching as their heads hit the floor and rolled away from what was left of them.
Reforger’s voice spoke in Pyre’s left ear through the Bluetooth earpiece, saying, “Pyre! Look for a side entrance on the south side of the building you’re in!”
“Which way is south,” Pyre demanded, only for Reforger to reply, “From an exterior view of the big-ass vehicle door, the right! It’s a door on the right side of the building!”
“Affirmative! Moving to intercept now,” Pyre replied, beginning to move in that direction through the use of solidified fire pillars, as he asked, “Where’s Specter?”
“En route, but unless you act now, she won’t make it in time,” Reforger answered.
Pyre rushed there as quickly as he could, surging forward, but encountering no further enemy combatants. This, Pyre figured, had to be evidence of the terror group pulling out of the facility. After turning around a few corners, Pyre came face to face with Chad Brunswick.
He was wearing body armor over black fatigues, and—just like the other Crimson Blades—both the fatigues and the body armor were embroidered with patches of the same bloody knife insignia from the ransom video. His left arm was around the neck of a bruised and battered Jessica, with his right hand holding a gun to her head.
Jessica’s short-sleeved, blue shirt, revealed various bruises and scrapes on her arms, with the knees of her jeans torn and bloodied. Blood was seeping down her face from a laceration on her right temple.
“Don’t shoot,” Pyre yelled.
“I don’t see Daedalus markings—or our markings—on your uniform. Are you with us,” Chad demanded of Pyre.
“Us,” Pyre inquired.
“The Crimson Blades,” Chad demanded again, “Are you one of us?”
“No, sir,” Pyre told him, “I’m here to rescue Jessica.”
Pyre managed to spot Specter sneaking up behind Chad, before Chad yelled, “Then run! Or I will shoot your ass!”
“Sir, I promised your family I wouldn’t kill you. Fire that weapon, and you’ll leave me no alternative to breaking that promise,” Pyre informed Chad.
“Oh, come on,” Chad yelled fury soaking his words, “You expect me to believe that? I bet you don’t even know their names!”
“Your daughter’s a schoolgirl named Violet, and your wife’s named Rose, both with the surname Brunswick. Now, please, let her go,” Pyre demanded in return, “It’s what Donnie would want.”
As soon as he mentioned the name of Chad’s brother, a certain look came over Chad’s face. Even though he couldn’t identify which emotions were being expressed, the change was so swift and so drastic, that Pyre knew instantly that he’d made a mistake. The last thing he needed to do was induce rapid mood swings, or other erratic thoughts and behaviors, in a hostage taker.
Pulling the gun away from Jessica’s head and pointing it at Pyre, Chad roared, “You dare use my family as tools to manipulate me? You son of a bitch, I ought to end you!”
This is going bad fast! I need a change of plans, NOW, Pyre thought, his mind racing a million miles a minute.
Slowly moving his hands towards his own head, Pyre said, “Hey, I’m going to take this helmet off—if you’re gonna kill someone, you’re going to have to look me in the eyes, sir.” Unstrapping the helmet, Pyre pulled it off of his head, revealing his blue eyes, and his natural voice, as Pyre stated, “What do you think Rose would want? Or, hell, what do you think Violet would want? To see her father holding her classmate hostage? We both know she would be appalled by that.”
Both Jessica and Chad looked numb with shock, as Chad—dropping the gun to the floor—breathed, “Holy shit…I’m the enemy…I’m a monster…”
His arms dropped down to his side, releasing Jessica. Jessica ran to Pyre and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, as she cried.
“I’m sorry…I’m so so—,” Chad began to say before he collapsed to the ground while blood, bone, and grey matter, showered from a gunshot wound to his head, as someone yelled, “ENEMY IN SIGHT! OBJECTIVE SIGHTED! ENGAGING!”
Pyre saw Specter run off as a trio of Daedalus contractors ran towards himself and Jessica, before Pyre—still holding his helmet by the chin straps with one hand—grabbed Jessica, swept her off her feet and into his arms, then used a series of solidified fire pillars generated under his feet to get himself and Jessica out of there, retracing his path back to the skylight he’d initially breached the building through. Hurling both himself and Jessica through that—now glassless—skylight, and onto the roof, Pyre continued onwards until they were several blocks away.
Setting Jessica down on the roof of another building—some sort of store, or so he suspected—Pyre inquired, “So, Miss Wilcox, where should I drop you off?”
Crying with what Pyre believed to be—and hoped to be—joy, Jessica still held Pyre in her arms, as she said, “Thank you, Alex. For everything. Though you should probably put your helmet back on before someone else recognizes your voice.”
Pyre heard Reforger’s mechanically altered voice in his left ear, yelling, “SHIT! FUCK! SHIT! She knows! MOTHERFUCKER!”
Putting his helmet back on, and securing it in place, Pyre’s once again disguised voice replied, “You’ll never have to thank me for saving you. Or anyone.”
“You’re right. But I still want to thank you. Anyway, could you drop me off at Pauline’s house? Her immediate family’s larger, so it’s more likely someone will be there,” Jessica stated in turn.
Nodding, Pyre’s mechanically altered voice replied, “Sure. So…I take it you’re not turning me into the cops?”
Jessica laughed, and said, “No. I wouldn’t even joke about turning you in. Seriously, though, keep your helmet on. Not everyone that can recognize your voice will keep your secret.”
“Thank you,” Pyre’s mechanically altered voice replied through the Vocal Disguise Unit of his helmet, before he swept her back off her feet, and—holding her in his arms again—hurled himself yet again from rooftop to rooftop with pillars of solidified fire until he’d reached Jessica’s desired destination.103Please respect copyright.PENANA4G3MOCWiRo