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- - -
As with almost everything else in Jill's life, the mission had gone to shit.
They'd left the humvees behind, deciding to move in on foot towards the rebel camp. The plan was to get eyes on the exchange between the rebels and David Jonah, then sweep in to catch them both off guard. All that went out the window when the ridgeline ahead lit up with muzzle flashes.
Now the forest was alive with the sound of gunfire and Jill's team was on the retreat.
What's left of us, anyway…
Mueller and Hernandez were cut down immediately, shredded by a deadly spray of automatic fire. Bartley set off on a futile charge - possibly to buy the rest of them some time to fall back - but a grenade blast sent him flying like a ragdoll. Jill knew he was never getting up.
Campo got hit next, two shots to the torso. Armor-piercing rounds tore through his kevlar - but he was still breathing as Jill and Rebecca dragged him into cover behind a big tree. The trunk was wide and thick enough to shield them from the rebel fire. They were safe - for now.
Jill was calm. She had to be. Bringing up her rifle - a modified M4 - she leaned around the edge of the tree and took aim… only to snap back into cover as striking bullets made splinters of the bark.
Too close, she thought, scowling.
She fell back against the trunk, lowering into a squat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rebecca tending to Campo, hands and bandages both smeared red. The man wasn't moving.
As gunfire continued to roar and bullets snapped on by, Rebecca shook her head and cursed. Jill gripped her gun tight, feeling dread and rage coil together in her gut.
"Campo's dead." Rebecca confirmed. She snatched the man's dog tags and shifted closer to Jill, pressing into the trunk beside her.
"Shit." Was all the response Jill could muster. This was no place to mourn. She gave Rebecca a once-over look. "Are you hit?"
"I'm fine. You?"
"I'm pissed." Jill sneered and made another attempt to return fire… and once again, she was forced back into cover by the intensity of the suppression. Jill was fuming now. "How the hell did they know we were coming?"
"Does it matter?" A deep voice shot back. Jill silently cursed. Of course he was still alive. "We've still got our mission. Can't do it if we're dead."
Jill hadn't even noticed that Dalton had joined them in cover. That bothered her. A man his size had no right being so quiet. And with his superhuman strength… Jill knew how lethal the mercenary could be.
"So what's your tactical recommendation?" Jill found herself asking, her voice hot with frustration.
Dalton moved closer, carefully stepping over Campo… and patting Rebecca softly on the shoulder. That especially was something Jill couldn't shake, even as the man was looking her right in the eye.
"You and Rebecca fall back, link back up with Sheva and her people." Dalton offered. The beginnings of a grin appeared at the corner of his mouth. "I'll take care of these amateurs."
Even with the barrage of gunfire chipping away at their cover, Jill had enough in her to shake her head.
"You're serious, aren't you?" She muttered in disbelief. She already knew the answer - it was written plain as day on Dalton's face, punctuated by the bold glint in his green eyes.
"I'm a big target… and a big distraction." He reasoned, hefting up the LMG he'd been using as a rifle.
The man didn't wait for Jill's approval, leaning out of cover to fire off a couple of bursts towards the ridgeline. The machine gun belched, ringing deep in Jill's ears and rattling her teeth. Somehow, she was able to hear Dalton shouting for them to make a run for it.
A part of Jill wanted to argue - letting the mission slide into Dalton's control just didn't sit right with her. But with the odds so lopsided as they were… she couldn't think of a better plan. With a grimace, Jill lurched onto her feet, grabbing Rebecca by the arm. A single shared look got the medic to understand - get ready to run.
Right before they made a break for it, Jill heard Rebecca's voice call out.
"Be careful!"
Jill opened her mouth to answer… only for Dalton to cut in.
"I don't need to be, sweetheart!"
Then Dalton moved out into the open, firing off more bursts from his machine gun. It wasn't until Jill had broken into her run that she realized Rebecca hadn't been talking to her.
By the time the pair came to a stop, the gunfire had faded into sharp cracks echoing off the trees. And Jill decided that the warmth that had risen in her cheeks was from the effort of their sprint.
They were safe. Because of Dalton. It shouldn't have stung as much as it did.
"Cocky son of a bitch…" Jill bit out under her breath.
Rebecca, who was leaning against a tree while she caught her breath, looked up then.
"What was that, Jill?"
"Nothing." The sound of Dalton's machine gun rang out again. The merc was still in the fight. Because of course he was. "Let's move."
- - -
Excella's eyes were fixed on the screens. Each second that ticked by was another million in the bank - but what made her heart surge with glee was the live feed itself.
It was Dalton in the midst of battle - though calling it a battle was a bit generous to the opposing side. Excella's champion was in his prime, making short work of lesser men.
His body was too strong, his reflexes were too fast, his tactics too bold. The rebel troops might have gotten the drop on Alpha Team through sheer dumb luck, but John Dalton was honed to tackle improbable odds.
The lucky ones met their end at the barrel of Dalton's LMG. A short, high caliber burst turning their bodies into red mist and red chunks. But when he ran out of ammo…
Excella took in a steady breath, feeling her heart thump within. She'd seen Dalton kill evolved Lickers with his bare hands. The rebel foot soldiers may as well have been made of straw. A neck snapped, a knee shattered, a rib cage caved in… It wasn't the violence that impressed her, but the efficiency. Every kill was more proof, indisputable proof that her project was a resounding success.
How could Excella not smile?
"It's not much of a contest, is it?" Ada's voice rose up over the low hum of the computers and the tapping of keystrokes. She sounded amused.
Excella hummed in agreement, swinging her hips as she continued to pace in the other direction.
"If it was, he wouldn't be the Man of Tomorrow." She answered.
As if the man himself had heard her, Dalton drove a powerful kick into the stomach of one unfortunate rebel soldier. The force sent the other man hurtling back, flying straight into the trunk of a tall, thick tree. The rebel crumpled into a motionless, lifeless heap on the forest floor. The impact must have shattered the man's spine.
Excella felt a shiver roll through her body. Ada had shifted to the edge of her seat now, just as fixated on the live footage now.
"I suppose he wouldn't." Ada affirmed after a silence. "Damn, does he move fast."
"Superior agility and endurance." Excella boasted proudly. "Many applications on the battlefield."
"And off the battlefield, too." Ada added, a faint, sly glimmer in her dark eyes.
Excella gave a light scoff. There was admonishment, too - sharp words waiting on her tongue. But Excella swallowed them down. She couldn't blame Wong for her interest.
"We are recording this, yes?" Excella called out over the row of techies, her voice sharp and clear.
"Yes, Director. We're getting everything on Dalton." Was one egghead's feeble reply.
Excella's gaze remained fixed on the screen ahead. Fixed on her champion. Her heart continued to thump as she watched the man work.
"We damn well better be…"
- - -
As Dalton grew accustomed to his newfound strength, it became more and more clear to him just how fragile the average human was.
He felt no qualms. They were the enemy and they were trying to kill him. In vain, of course, but still. So Dalton killed them. Every burst from his machine gun shredded an enemy soldier like wet tissue paper. It was a killing machine he held in his hands… and it felt no heavier than a goddamn nerf gun. And with his physical enhancements he could break it like one, too.
Excella had once called him her own personal Superman. Dalton liked the sound of that, but he knew there was one stark difference between him and the comic book superhero.
Dalton wasn't afraid to cut loose.
After dropping a dozen or so of their guys, the rest of the rebels got wise and turned tail. Dalton refrained from shooting them in their asses - where was the sport in that? Still, he fired off some rounds into the air. Scared enemies were demoralized enemies. Maybe the rest of them would go home, save the team the trouble.
"What, had enough already? I was just getting warmed up!" Dalton bellowed out a laugh. The only response was his own echo.
No company in the forest now, just corpses. Just like in Toronto, Dalton came out on top.
He only had a short time to bask in the moment before his comm link buzzed.
"John, we have a visual of Sheva's team." Rebecca's voice rang through. "We're going to regroup and circle back to the rebel camp. How are you holding up?"
"I'm right as rain, doc." Dalton answered, strolling leisurely. He stepped over one of the corpses he'd made - a man who'd tried to be a hero, gotten up close with a knife. All he got was a broken neck for his trouble. Dalton let off a derisive snort. "These rebel boys are a walk in the park."
"Glad you're having fun." Dalton caught some mirth in Rebecca's voice. "Work your way back to us, big guy. We've still got to wrangle up Jonah and those bioweapons."
Just as Dalton opened his mouth to answer, there came a new distraction. Strange sounds drawing closer. Not the sound of men, of boots crunching leaves and twigs underfoot. No, these sounds were coming from up high. From the branches above. It was the rustling of leaves and the heavy whooshing of the air.
The sound of flapping wings. Big wings. And they were getting close.
Then… shouting. Men crying out, screaming. The cracking of rifle fire, off in the distance. And shrieking. Inhuman shrieking. Far away… and directly overhead.
Dalton felt curiosity, not fear. For a moment he simply watched the new arrivals. Big ugly things, sickly pink and blood red, thin membranes sprouting from a corded growth of biomass to form four ragged wings. Flapping, flapping, working desperately to keep their unshapely bodies in the air. No eyes or nose or ears, only a single orifice set with jagged white talons hanging down from the- Dalton could only call it a torso.
Slimy, bloated, flying erratically, and shrieking. These things were BOWs. They couldn't be anything else.
Dalton scowled. They even smelled bad. He brought up his machine gun. A single burst turned one of the creatures into a pulpy mess on the forest floor.
"John? You there?" Rebecca pinged him again.
Another one of the ugly fucks let out an ear-splitting howl and dived for him. Dalton ducked out of the way, returning fire as he moved behind a tree for cover. He clicked on his comm.
"You ladies can go on ahead." Dalton grunted. He heard the sound of more flapping wings, more beastly shrieks. A dozen more of those bastards, easy. "I think I'm gonna be held up."
"More trouble?"
"Something like that…"
Dalton moved out of cover, getting eyes on at least seven more of the flying freaks. All twisted masses of flesh and viscera - like they were cobbled together on an operating table.
The man took aim, squeezed the trigger. A long belch from the barrel of his machine gun tore through two of the buggers, spraying the leaves and branches with blood and pus and God knows what else.
The rest of the winged freaks let out sounds he couldn't even describe. Then, as one, they dropped down to attack.
"And I was worried this was going to be too easy…"
- - -
"John? Dalton? What's your status? Hello?" Rebecca waited, staring hard at her comm device. No answer but static. Her lips dipped into a frown as she turned to face the others - Jill, Sheva, and the other surviving agents. "He's not answering."
Oddly enough, Jill seemed more annoyed than anything. It was Sheva who looked concerned for the man.
The sound of heavy gunfire thundered from deeper in the forest. Steady, controlled bursts. Rebecca knew that had to be John. And from the expression on Jill's face, so did she.
"Sounds like he's occupied." Jill said plainly.
"More like he's in trouble." Sheva cut in. More gunfire sounded, again in short bursts. These were quicker than before. To Sheva's ears, perhaps they sounded desperate. "We should go back for him."
Rebecca knew better, though. And so did Jill.
"You've never seen him in action, Alomar." Jill let out a huff. She checked her ammo then, not quite frowning. Rebecca could tell that praising Dalton didn't come easy for her friend. "Trust me, he'll be fine."
"So we're just going to leave him behind?"
Sheva looked taken aback - though Rebecca couldn't blame her for that. They'd seen Dalton's feats first hand. Hearing about how tough the man was simply didn't do him justice - in fact, for the listener, it would certainly push into the absurd.
"No, Jill's right." Rebecca affirmed to Sheva - emphatically so. "Dalton's a one-man-army. What happened in Toronto didn't put a scratch on him. And he faced Lickers."
"He stayed behind for a reason." Jill slid her magazine back into her M4. She turned to face Sheva and the rest of the men. "We still have our mission. Apprehend Jonah and secure the bioweapons from the rebel camp. And with Dalton distracting the rebels…"
"...The camp should be unguarded." Sheva nodded, understanding now.
There was still some conflict etched on the woman's face, Rebecca saw, but in the end the young agent relented. Sheva gave a short nod to her team and the men fell in line in short order.
It was unspoken, but clear as day. They would follow Jill's lead.
Just as the others relaxed, Rebecca saw her friend's expression soften - and her posture as well. That extra bit of tension poured away. Rebecca herself felt relief. Dalton would be fine - it was Jill she was worried about.
After this whole mess was over with, Rebecca knew she'd have to do something about her friend's sour mood. But that was a problem for another day.
"Sounds simple enough." Rebecca offered the others a tired smile, hoping to spread the lightness around. "We go in, lock down the BOWs, and get out. Save the day before dinner."
"That's if Jonah doesn't already have the weapons." Sheva countered - though not too harshly.
"If he does, he won't get far. Tricell has eyes in the sky and other teams waiting on standby. At least they're good for something…" Jill muttered at the end.
In any case, Sheva at least looked satisfied with that. The woman shared a look with Jill and Rebecca both. There was a spark in her eyes then, a familiar fire. This woman was ready for action.
"Alright then." Sheva said. "Let's move."