Chapter 56: A New Kind of Warfare: Part 2
Lucius and his troops set up an emergency defensive perimeter in the lobby of the HQ building. The front door and windows have been barricaded with every available desk and chair. The receptionist computers have been destroyed in the event that they are looted. A vampire soldier stands at sentry with an AA12 loaded with H.E. shells. The rest along with Lucius steady their M16A3 rifles behind some cover; waiting anxiously as the sound of drones zooming and exploding outside. It was only a matter of time before they start hearing loud banging at the blocked entrance.
“Don’t let them in!” Lucius orders through his comms. His squad are using headsets to communicate with each other because the loud rap music makes it impossible for communication without the squad straining their voices. Some unarmed logistics vampires hold onto the barricades to prevent them from being pushed off from the other side. If the barricade fails, they are going down with the others regardless if they can fight back or not. A Molotov cocktail manages to slip through the window, ignite a group of soldiers and the barricade into a fire demise.
“It’s no use. They’re breaking in!” A female soldier cries over her comms to Lucius.
“Good. If we can’t deflect them, we’ll destroy every single one of them. Don’t let them pass our defensive perimeter. This is our time to improve our kill to death ratio! Here they come!” An explosive charge blasts through the door and window barrier throwing the unarmed vampires and debris apart. Like a swarm of angry ants, Bass Squad hooligans start pouring in without any regard for their safety or well being. Lucius soldiers fire upon them without discrimination. Some of them go down with a few well placed shots, but others are taking the incoming fire like it’s a minor inconvenience, still charging forward with pipe bombs in their hands. It’s only then when Lucius realizes how they are acting like they are immune to being shot. He witnesses one of them injecting some kind of syringe into his arms before charging towards his defensive position. They are taking combat enhancements and ignoring all injuries and damages, attempting to break the defense for the regular hooligans to assault right after. It’s a suicidal charge.
“WHY! WONT THEY STOP!!!” The AA12 gunner screams in frustration, blasting as many Bass Squad hooligans until his shotgun runs out of ammo in his magazine. The enemy takes the initiative and lights up the fuses on their pipe bombs arcing them over to Lucius’ defensive perimeter. His soldiers flee for safety, leaving Lucius behind.
“Hold the line! Throw them back!” Lucius grabbed one of the pipe bombs and attempted to throw it back, but there were too many that have breached the perimeter. He too makes a run for it before the bombs detonate, destroying the last barrier of entry into the HQ. Some of the drugged up assault troops that made it through, still pumped up from the combat drugs effect start hunting down the retreating Vampires. They are followed by the regulars who come in through the doors, stepping over their fallen brothers and sisters like it’s a Black Friday Sale, looting everything of value in the lobby and hauling it back via designated hauling personal. They are squad members tasked with taking the loot back to the vans while the rest continue their assault.
Lucius and his few remaining soldiers run down the stairs towards the armory. They can hear Bass Squad causing a ruckus up above. The time to stand and hold their ground is long gone. Lucius must reunite with Vlad and Lilith at the hideout bunker. Probably one of Asura’s best investments right now. It’s out of sight and secure from most explosive rounds. His entourage skips the armory room, there’s no time to stock up ammo and weapons. He turns a corner and runs down the basement hallway until he runs into the vanguard troops. They are heavily armored in Explosive Ordnance Disposal uniforms, forming a defensive wall with ballistic riot shields, gas masks, and FN MTL-30 grenade launchers.
“The Coffin’s Guard! What a relief! They are coming in from the upper levels. We must get through and rendezvous with Vlad.”
“Negative.” One of the guards responds with authority. "Vlad ordered us to deny any entry through our defensive line. Friend or foe."
“What is this nonsense! I am Lucius! I demand you let me and my soldiers through!”
“Vlad’s orders are final. All soldiers are to stand and fight. None shall retreat! Now go back!” The guard shoves Lucius away with a thrust from his riot shield, knocking him over.”
“This is outrageous!” A vampire soldier shouts back. “We’re the last ones that haven’t been eliminated or captured! Let us through!” The guards do not move an inch with their riot shields forming a barricade that would be impossible to break through with force or bullets. Lucius gets up from the ground, fuming with rage.
“I am your superior!” Lucius yells through a strained voice, kicking one of the riot shields with his boot. “How dare you deny me entry through an area that has always been available to me!”
“This is your last chance.” The guard answers with authority. Return to the fight or we’ll gas you unconscious with our gas grenades.”
“To hell with you all! I’m not going back out there to die for a coward who hides behind our guards while those degenerates desecrate our base!” Lucius snarled, drawing his rifle and pointing it directly at the lead guard's visor. “Open this line, now!”
The guard didn't hesitate. Without a show of mercy, he raised the bulky, matte-black frame of his FN MTL-30. A soldier-portable, semi-automatic, flat-trajectory launcher that used a detachable five round box magazine instead of a traditional rotating cylinder or single-shot break-action. The wide 30mm bore staring directly at Lucius’ chest.
The guard pulled the trigger twice in rapid, semi-automatic succession. The 30mm canisters flew on a straight, violent trajectory, impacting Lucius in the chest. Instantly, thick, pressurized plumes of yellow incapacitating gas erupted from the shells, completely enveloping the narrow corridor in a dense chemical fog.
Lucius and his soldiers didn't even have time to pull their masks from their gear slots. Lucius was knocked out from the force of the round striking him. The toxic gas flooded their proximity with severe distortion effects, draining their stamina to zero within seconds. The soldiers coughed violently, their vision blurring as they dropped to their knees.. Through the hazy, suffocating mist, he could hear the heavy thud of the Coffin's Guard standing perfectly still in their airtight EOD suits, completely indifferent to his suffering.
It felt like a matter of seconds for Lucius but he had regained his vision, though he was not in the basement of the HQ anymore. He’s on on the floor tied up along with the rest of his troops in the courtyard which has been obliterated beyond recognition. Bass Squad hooligans cheering and howling like football fans as they loot the base for everything valuable from crates of ammo, some ballistic shields, grenade launchers, vehicles that survived the drone strikes, and valuable artifacts from Vampire Squad’s past victories.
“Gawd, check out this pickup!” One of the Bass Squad soldiers holds up an AK-12 prototype that was once part of the armory, though not implemented into service by Vampire Squad was kept for research and weapons familiarity training for higher ranker members. It seems that most of the weapons scavenged by these soldiers are the AK type weapons that were stored in the armory. Lucius can’t imagine how they’ll be defiled in the hands of these gang bangers.
“Finally done with your beauty sleep, Twilight Boy?!” Lucius is kicked the stomach by a Angsty Korean girl dressed like a flapper and wielding a heavy caliber rifle besides a pale, lank, and quiet looking guy with a flat cap, round glasses, and a modernized Tommy gun variant. “Where’s the rest of your gothic suckers, huh?! Did they run off like wusses? Where’s Lilith?! Tell me or we’ll take you back to base with an inch of your life left!”
“That’s enough, Crystal.” Booker held onto her shoulder with a tight grip, pulling her back from kicking Lucius again. “Pillaging their base should be good enough to satisfy you. Stay professional; we're here for reasons other than vengeance.”
Crystal grumbled incomprehensibly under her breath, listening to Booker’s orders. Booker lowered his sub-machine gun and brought out a clipboard with a handwritten script. He cleared his throat and addressed the prisoners.
“By the rules of war, you are hereby declared to be prisoners of war under the watch of Team Crimewave. You have not been slain in combat by your peers, and now as the losers and survivors of the battle, you have given up your right to fight back. Under the societal rules of online warfare, you are to be housed to the bare minimum and given options for freedom. However, these options are in accordance with the team who is in charge of the prisoners.” Booker flipped the sheet on the clipboard. “Under a contract established by the current leaders of Crimewave, Little Joe and Kai Zen, you are given two options for release. Our operations are not cheap. We are not contractors, and every operation must have its returns, be it loot, intel, or prisoners of war. Each of you will be billed a certain amount of credits based on your rank. Lower rank means lower debt. Higher rank means you’re more valuable to us, so you should know what that means. This debt is calculated through means of ammo expenditure, operational costs, and fees, determined by our logistics officers when you are being processed. You will retain this debt as you stay imprisoned, but you’ll have opportunities to pay it back.”
“Do we have to go through the entire document?” Crystal whined. “Let’s book them and go already.”
“It’s standard procedure, Crystal,” Booker continued, flipping to the last page. “You will be given the opportunity to repay this debt by enrolling into the service of Team Crimewave up until your fines are paid off. Your duties will be withdrawn from combat duties by the conducts of POW management such as logistics, menial work, and other tasks not mentioned. You will be forbidden from carrying any weapons while under your POW status. Bass Squad debtors are given the privilege to access the rec rooms, while Charleston Squad debtors have access to the clubroom for drinks, gambling, and so forth. Neither are allowed to leave their designated base. You cannot log out and hope to respawn back in your home base; the mechanics of Mil-Sim Story forbid this with your status as POWs. The other option is for your team or squad to pay the ransom for your release.” Booker looked down at Lucius and fixed his glasses on his nose. “That’s assuming your team cares that much to bring you back.”
Lucius gritted his teeth, the plastic zip-ties biting into his wrists as he stared silently at the ground. Vlad didn't care. He had left him out to the wolves like live bait while he and Lilith hid like cowards.
Around them, the chaotic aftermath of the raid reached a fever pitch. Dozens of regular Bass Squad hooligans were staggering back toward their vans, visibly shaking and sweating as they dealt with the severe withdrawal effects of the combat enhancement syringes. Despite taking a hit to their stats and adrenaline, they were in high spirits. Lucius and the others were forced up onto their feet by some Bass Squad soldiers. From where the gate once stood, two strange, silent armored vehicles rolled up, followed by well-dressed, business-looking types with 1911s holstered at their belts. They called upon the prisoners to march up into the vans one by one.
The vehicles in question were exclusive to Charleston Squad: the Ford Model M (Military), which was based on the new electric Ford Model T revival released in the civilian world in the middle of the 21st century as a promotional vehicle. The Model M was a proof-of-concept vehicle featuring armored plating, all-wheel drive, a silent electric engine, and a modular rear end. The chassis could be swapped between a troop transport configuration, like the ones Lucius was seeing, or a technical mount equipped with an M2 Browning Machine Gun or other heavy ordnance. Lucius had heard about them while under Asura's command. They looked alot larger compared to the ones he's seen in the tournament documents.
Lucius turned his head toward the helipad and was disturbed to see the Black Hawk helicopter’s rotors spinning up, with several Bass Squad hooligans crammed behind the cockpit. The other Bass Squad members shouted and hollered as they watched the incompetent pilot attempt a vertical lift-off.
“Brooooo! Whatcha doing?! You can’t fly!”
“Is he for real?! He’s gonna crash that shit!”
“Bro is crazy! Don’t do it!”
“Bros! Check it out! We’re flying! Braaaaah!” the pilot cheered on as other Bass Squad soldiers recklessly jumped onto the helicopter's landing skids.
“Ya’all gonna die!” A soldier took out his phone to record the scene. “Goofy Ah, Ah hell no!”
Suddenly, the helicopter lost control and started to tilt violently onto its side, sending many of the soldiers who had hopped on falling to their deaths before the aircraft slammed into the fortress bell tower. The impact destroyed the stone structure in a massive, fiery explosion.
“Ah shit, bro! That’s some Michael Bay shit right there! Woooooo!” The reactions from the Bass Squad soldiers seemed wildly excited and enthused rather than horrified. Lucius had to look away in shame as he was shoved into the back of the Ford Model M transport. That Black Hawk helicopter had cost an absolute fortune to acquire back when Asura was in charge. Now, it was just a flaming pile of rubble. The last thing he saw before the heavy rear trunk doors were slammed shut on him were enemy soldiers tagging the remaining stone walls of the fortress with spray paint.
“Prisoners are secured. Time to move,” the suited mobsters informed Booker and Crystal.
“I’ll take it from here. Crystal, you’re riding shotgun.” Booker waved over to Draco, who was recording a video and dancing to heavy rap music with his crew amidst the burning wreckage. “Nice doing business with you!”
“Yeah, man! It’s been real good! Thanks!” Draco waved back before returning to his celebrations.
Booker took out a cigarette, lighting it up with a silver lighter as he slipped into the driver's seat and navigated the armored vehicle out of the ruined fortress. The cigarette in question had no noticeable passive effects other than granting a slight focus boost to the user and a minor health penalty. After taking a long drag, he handed the cigarette over the center console to Crystal.
“You did good today. Not bad for a newb.”
“Thanks,” she murmured quietly, accepting the smoke. As she took a drag, her free hand stealthily moved over the console, resting on Booker’s thigh, but he immediately smacked it away.
“No,” he said bluntly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Crystal sighed and leaned her head against the passenger window, rejected once again, watching the burning ruins of Vampire Squad fade into the distance. The vehicles radio plays "Always Say Goodbye" by Charlie Haden, a dark jazz track, as they drive back home.
Several hours later, the heavy iron basement doors finally creaked open. Lilith and Vlad stepped out into the courtyard, appalled by the sheer destruction left behind by the raiders. Following the server's post-raid protocol, those who were slain in the morning battle simultaneously respawned exactly where they had fallen. They stumbled back onto their feet in a daze, their uniforms torn to shreds and their gear completely stripped of weapons and equipment.
One of the Coffin Guard survivors limped over to Vlad, his heavy EOD suit severely scorched. “My lord, we were unable to keep the horde at bay. We were completely annihilated.”
Vlad didn’t say anything. He could only stare blankly around him, his home turf completely unrecognizable. Lilith sprinted around the courtyard, frantically calling out for Lucius.
“Forget it, Lilith,” Vlad stammered, his voice strained. “Lucius did his duty. There’s nothing we can do.”
“I looked everywhere for him and the remnants of the vanguard team. No luck,” Edgar answered, limping over as he adjusted a half-broken gas mask. “The armory has been completely looted, the workshop burned to the ground, and the barracks torn apart. There’s not much left of the fortress, my lord.”
“No… we can’t just…” Lilith’s voice cracked as she dropped to her knees on the scorched pavement. “How… how could we… This is unacceptable.”
“We didn’t have a choice…” Vlad muttered, refusing to meet her eyes.
“What do you mean?!” Lilith screamed, whipping around to glare at Vlad. “We left Lucius behind! He was our best second-in-command... and now he’s gone! Captured by the likes of those... barbarians! You ordered the guards to lock him out!”
“Watch your tone!” Vlad bellowed, though his eyes continued to dart away, unable to look at the tattered remains of his own castle. “We preserved the core leadership. That is what matters.”
Lilith felt a sickening wave of disgust hollow out her chest. She turned away from him and walked toward the ruined entrance of her workshop. Her heart sank. The crafting benches were shattered, her materials were looted, but across the main stone wall, Bass Squad had left their final mark in massive, dripping red spray paint that read:
“YOUR NEXT TEAM LONESTAR" followed by ".t The Hood's Finest Guests"
Lilith stared at the glaring, intentional misspelling, the hostility of the message burning into her mind. She knew Charleston Squad and Bass Squad were hunting for dominance, and they were already moving on to their next opponents. Vlad was a coward who would never risk his remaining credits to launch a rescue mission, and her own faction was broken beyond repair.
Lilith had no choice. She knew she had to make contact with those ruined her team in the last match. It’s the only way she could save Lucius and Team Lonestar.