Vekron Nuclear Energy Facility

Seattle, Washington State

10:30 AM.


" National Guard forces have successfully breached from the northwestern access gate, and are advancing on the reactor chamber control center as we speak ! Stay on task, squad; we're going to get there first ! "

" Sir, yes sir ! ""

" Roger that, sir..! "

Mitchell caught every word of his captain's sitrep, clear as day over the squad's comms.

It was what caused him to wonder, just for the quickest moment, why he wanted to beat the Guard forces; out of professional competitiveness, or a pragmatic need to ensure that there was at least someone there to reign in the runaway chain reaction of the core before it went boom.

Gideon had brought that up on the VTOL ride over though, and pretty thoroughly enough, but

Shut up, man. It doesn't matter, and you don't have time..!

The stretched out half second that he'd been running those thoughts ended, as the reason why was the fresh squad of KVA gunmen that had just come racing out of the heavy blast-resistant doors dead ahead of them, rifles held up to their shoulders.

Opening fire on them came without any command needed from the ATLAS team, though Gideon yelling " Hostiles, 12;00 ! " certainly was a spur to do so. Mitchell squeezed his IMR's trigger, and as he watched the resulting muzzle flash, he noticed another one out the corner of his eye as Joker opened up as well, adding his own tight cone of outgoing bullets.

" Cover, squad..cover ! ", bellowed Gideon.

" Go prone..! "

It was a sound order, with a few issues. There wasn't anyplace to duck immediately; the room around them was rows of ceiling high lockers with benches at their bases for the plant staff to change in and out of hazard suits when servicing the power turbines, and the reactor itself. The KVA already had the advantage of having some of the lockers right in front of their doors, giving the terrorists a readily available hard-point. Meanwhile ATLAS troops had a few yards to go from their own entrance to any hard cover, and running the gauntlet didn't seem wise to any of them, team leader most of all. He'd already begun to dive for the deck as he yelled for the others to as well, already aware they'd do as he said without hesitation.

Landing on his chest armor plates, Mitchell managed to keep the enemy in his sights, long enough to drop one with a clean upper torso shot. The other 2 had disappeared behind the lockers on the left and right hand sides of the blast doors opposite him, however, and from there, they could dash down the sides and catch the ATLAS team in a pincer...

" 2 more ! I got 2 up, they're flanking ! ", Joker called, nailing the tactical assessment.

Which side am I going...?

No orders...got to choose...!

Mitchell's already thrumming pulse sped up even more, and he eyed the orange number " 25 " on his rifle's ammo counter. He had to choose a side to cover...but the KVA had taken both !

" Watch the flanks, watch the flanks ! ", ordered Gideon, as Mitchell then made up his mind. He pushed up, clenching the rifle, and began a sprint of his own around the right, giving the end of the locker row on that side as wide a berth as he could.

His combat boots clutched at the floor, skidding for a half second before getting a hold of it again and propelling him ahead at full speed.

" Mitchell, go right...! "

" ..Already on it, sir !, the Marine yelled back, as he raced up and through the right-hand flank.

Keeping his IMR braced into his shoulder, and raised to look down its sights, Mitchell made sure not to hug the lines and rows of lockers, while the jackhammer-level gunfire continued filling the air. It was barely dampened by his earpieces, and despite his dual ATLAS/USMC training, it was beginning to grate on his concentration...just a tad.

Seoul was more open than this, at least...

Another few milliseconds later, and he didn't have any longer to think- because one of the KVA gunmen abruptly showed up, borderline sprinting around some of the lockers.

Mitchell shot him. Right through the chest, and the KVA went down. The Marine kept moving, though he slowed down a notch and widened his path arc; he'd come to the end of this side of the mass of lockers, and if there were any more coming his way, he didn't want to run eye to eye into any of them.

" One down, sir ! One down ! ", he called out over comms.

" Copy that, Mitchell...one more down over here ! "

But, he soon found that he needn't have bothered; another gunman edged into view, backpedaling rapidly toward the opposite bank of lockers, while laying down a freshly heavy burst of fire with an AK15. On the floor just past him, sprawled out, was another gunman, with an UMP45 laying barely out of reach.

There he is...!

It took Mitchell only a second to line up a shot on the standing shooter, and then put him down as well, with a quick trigger pull, nailing the KVA gunman in the head.

" Another one down over here , sir ! ". The Marine's ammo counter was down to close of 50 percent of what it'd been, with just 18 rounds remaining. He would have to reload soon..

...but, the fire had slacked off by now. After taking out that latest gunman with the AK, Mitchell wasn't hearing much of it anymore.

beeeeeeeeiii...!

A flashbang- a 9 banger, to be exact- had just gone off, somewhere on Mitchell's left. It was followed barely a second later by a pair of rifle fire bursts, going off with another half-second dividing them.

" Mitchell ! ", Gideon crisply addressed. " Two hostiles down here...two down ! "

" That's the last of them..."

Substantial levels of frigid adrenaline continued to flood the Marine's veins, but it wasn't much more than background, as he acknowledged his captain. " Copy that, sir...all clear over here. "

" Roger that, Marine. RV by the blast doors, copy ? "

" Wilco, sir... Oscar mike.. "

The firefight had wound down at last...and with it, Mitchell waited for the likelihood of experiencing the blooming of pain anywhere on him-a telltale sign that he'd been hit. The shield against that, provided by what adrenaline was left, only lasted so long after the bullets eventually stopped flying...

..but, there was nothing. No stabbing, or gnawing aches that betrayed that he'd taken some metal fragments, or lead. Still, he had to be sure, so Mitchell proceeded to pat himself down, twisting to check down the length of his torso's web gear, as well as both legs and his ( remaining ) right arm.

Again: Nothing. No tears, shreds...no evidence of having been hit. As the adrenaline tide in his blood began to subside, leeching out the liquid ice, the marine finally realized he was still untouched. On top of it, his breathing had also begun to slow,

Not a scratch...thank god.

Could've been worse, I'll grant the fight that much..

Having performed his self-conducted exam, and found nothing wrong, Mitchell straightened up, and began to jog forward toward the set of blast doors, once again shifting his hold on his IMR to a more controlled dual handed grip.

Another few yards more brought him to the designated RV, where Gideon and Joker were already standing, under the dim-yet-steady pale glare of the ceiling mounted lights.

The Arkansas man looked over at him as the Marine approached, already in the process of diligently removing any remaining magazines from the dead gunmen's armor pouches. " Good work back there, jarhead. "

Mitchell acknowledged the relaxed tone of the greeting with a short lived nod, noticing how Gideon was already in standby position beside the door's lefthand side, keeping his attention focused squarely across the threshold.

" Theo- hurry the hell up !", the British officer snapped curtly. "I told you before: If you're going to rifle their pockets for ammo, you do it quick, or leave it alone. "

Glancing down at the scourging 3rd member of the squad, Mitchell was on the verge of supplying his own reprimand- it seemed like Joker was more interested in turning up some kind of intel that any of these guys might've been carrying, as all their frontal pouches were rumpled and empty.

Good thinking, but now's sure as heck not the time, buddy. Joker would be better off leaving intel collection to the National Guard's own G2 units, or even better, ATLAS' own analytical teams. After all, the one pressing issue that really needed to be handled, was the melting down reactor of the complex they were in going off, and that required pressing on as quick as they could manage.

They couldn't stop for anything. Gideon had pointed that out on the ride in as well...

Hillbilly should've gotten the gist of it by now...

" Joker. Let's move, man. There's nothing worthwhile on that one. ", the Marine finally advised.

The kneeling Arkansas man spent another few seconds rummaging, and for a second, Mitchell thought either he or Gideon would have to repeat themselves. But, another second later, he shrugged both shoulders, and finally conceded that there was nothing to be found.

"...Yeah. Guess you're right, Jarhead ", Joker remarked. He looked down one last time at the bullet riddled gunman, then stood, scooping up his SMG.

" Didn't even have any spare mags...due was down to nothing. Geeez, and the KVA actually thinks they gonna win ? "

Mitchell blew air out between this teeth. " They have control of a nuclear fusion reactor, dumbass. On US soil. Terrorist zealots, sure, but they've got a plan. "

" Mitchell! Joker ! Front and center ! ", an English accented voice barked out at them.

" Form up ! "

Both men mutually stopped their exchange at that, and turned to face their CO,who had just pivoted slightly away from the door, lowering a hand away form his earpiece comms link.

" Situation update, team ", Gideon briskly went on. " Weapons Company of one of the Guard battalions has breached the turbine chamber directly ahead of us from its secondary entrance ! We're about to go through the main, but they're encountering some stiff opposition. "

Finally; we're getting somewhere...

The squad leader continued, without missing a beat. " As soon as we clear decon right ahead, we'll be entering through the western side, across from their acsess point, catching the KVA in a pincer. "

" So...was that the plan from the get-go, boss ? ", asked an audibly skeptical Joker, as he bent his head to doubled check his ASM1's ammo count.

" Nice to finally clue us in. "

There were many ways respond to a self-accomplished smartass, but the only one that would do the best job of shutting him down, was pointedly ignoring him, and going right on ahead with whatever it was that you were going to say-especially if it was something akin to direct orders.

Thankfully, Gideon had been running this unit for a while, and knew what to do. " We're going right through decon, onto the turbines, and help the Guard clear it out. Then we move on the control room, just beyond. "

Satisfied, hayseed ?, Mitchell considered shooting off at Joker. There's your plan.

Of course...it still sucked that the likes of them grunts were always kept in the dark and fed BS, but that was the way the world worked. If they always knew what they were about to get into, well, then they'd be the ones in command.

And yet again, there was no time to dwell on it ( no matter how often you had before ), as Gideon pushed himself off the doorway frame, and began to storm forward, weapon tightly shouldered.

" On me- let's go ! " , he commanded.

Having utilized his " I've got a mouthful of steel voice ", it wasn't a surprise that Mitchell was the first of the two that began to move; he quickly matched Gideon's pace right out of the gate, following him across the threshold at a borderline run.

" Yes, sir ! "

" Where the hell is Joker !? ", boomed Gideon, as he continued to advance.

From some point just trailing Mitchell, the Arkansas man at least had the common sense to respond promptly ( and more importantly, loudly ) with, " Right here , Captain ! Trailing post..! "

Now there were 3 sets of boots, all pounding the purchase-friendly metal floor, and all following the the corridor that had fed into the lockers room. Immediately past the blast doors, the yawing hallway had expanded by several feet out to both sides, spanning about 20ft from side to side as well as overhead, and was lined with banks of what Mitchell knew could only be decontamination equipment along both walls.

Back during the days when this plant wasn't being run by a organization of fanatical, techno-phobic radicals, this chamber would've been blazing with light from its well placed and high powered ceiling mounted lamps, set flush into the paneling. Workers rotating off shift from having worked anywhere past here would've been either exposed to radiation, or would've run the risk of getting exposed, hence the need for through and through, deep clean decon.

The ATLAS personnel were all clad from head to boots in top tier CBRN-rated combat armor, complete with helmets that were sealed and slotted into their collars. Though the plant wasn't leaking any gamma rays from its central core, the risk of exposure was too high for ATLAS command to allow their personnel into the AO without sufficient protection.

As he ran down the length of the decon hallway, Mitchell listened to how loud his own heavy exhaling was, and the way that the moisture from it so rapidly dissipated before it could collect on the inside of his visor- courtesy of next-gen defogging technology that kept the wearer's view ahead unobstructed at all times. Its functions didn't stop there- a green outline was traced around Gideon as he led the pack, ensuring Mitchell would always know where he was no matter how poor visibility became, or whether there was anything blocking a direct LOS between them.

It was...pretty profound. All this advanced hardware he was wearing ( not even mentioning the man-made arm that was his left one ), and that the squad was running around inside one of the most technologically sophisticated facilities on the planet...yet said facility was under attack by those who'd said over and over how much they hated technology. How it was just so evil, and that the world needed to be cleansed of it...

How stupid can anyone get ?! These fools actually bought into Hades' lies about how all tech needs to die...and now they're here

And now they're going to die...for the mistakes they've made-

" Squad- hold here ! Hold here ! "

Gideon's shouted command stopped them all in their tracks, as they reached the end of the hall. Another set of blast doors barred their way, with a handful of more overhead lamps lighting up a patch of the floor just in front of them- the rest of the hall's lights had been alternating between flickering like fireflies, or being off altogether.

Gideon was already there, coming to a halt as he arranged to press his shoulder up against the righthand side of the 2 meter wide length of the portal. He turned his head sharply left, staring Mitchell down.

" Marine - left side. "

" Yes, Captain. " Mitchell nodded , moving to comply. His fingers on his left hand moved, checking that his IMR's fire selector settings to what he knew was full auto mode...

Got it. Yeah, its there...

" Joker ! On his six. "

" Roger that, boss. "

Mitchell reached his assigned position, bumping his left shoulder padding into it. As the side of his helmet made contact with the seashell-smooth metal wall, he realized he could sense something coming from some point on the other side.

Gunfire.

Sustained, and heavy, gunfire. It was difficult to clearly hear it through the wall- they were, of course, built thick enough to withstand some amount of structural integrity in the event of a cataclysmic explosion in the reactor chamber- , but there was no mistaking that there was some heavy action going on dead ahead.

The wall beside Mitchell had vibrations going through it...weak ones, yes, but they were still there.

Must be the guard taking to 'em out there...

Adrenaline was reintroduced into his blood, trickling frostily through the rest of him as Gideon addressed the unit:

" Alright...listen ! The Federal troops are heavily engaged wit the KVA in the main turbine chamber, and once we're through these doors, its only a 100 yards of office cubicles till we get there. "

He jabbed a knife hand toward the door for emphasis. " The 15th Regiment of the Washington State Guard has their Weapon's Company in there, pushing on the control room. We're going through that door, and we're going to lend them a hand. Then, we're all taking that control room. That's where this all ends, understand ?! "

Mitchell was the first to respond, as always. " Sir, yes, sir ! "

Joker, to his credit, wasn't lagging too much. " Gotcha, Captain ! "

Yeah, now we're coming together...

A tugging sensation manifested on the corner of Mitchell's mouth.

Like we always do.

No matter how much Joker tended to act like...well, a joker ( for at least half the time ), or how much Gideon could be called a metal-chewing taskmaster, when the rubber met the road , they put that aside, and worked like a veteran SEAL team. Which, to be honest, Mitchell had to admit for what was easily quite a few times, was pretty much the norm for them

Nothing had changed about that dynamic, thank God. It just about for certain that it wouldn't ever do so, but now would be a heck of a bad time for it to show some cracks.

" Final ammo check- I want topped off magazines ! "

Pure reflexes kicked in again, and Mitchell bent his head down at the IMR cradled in both hands. The ammo counter glimmered: 32.

Every round account for.

All set over here...

" Done, sir ! "

There was a clacking sound somewhere from where Joker had to be, as the Arkansas man double checked his own weapon, before a voice with a strong country drawl called out, " All good over here, boss. "

With that taken care of, Gideon moved onto the one quasi-cyborg on the team. " Mitchell ! You good ?! "

Didn't even to ask, sir..

" ...Ready on your word, sir ! ". The Marine let one gloved hand slide forward barely a millimeter along the IMR's barrel, before stopping short.

"...Standby, then ". The British officer steadied his rifle against his shoulder, then reached out a hand...

...and hit the door's activation switch.


Bwooom !

There was an echoing roar, as the .50 cal round going downrange instantly filled the interior of the VTOL, reverberating off its walls like a cross between a whip and a thunderclap. A spent brass casing clattered and bounced like a skittle on the deck, joining a steadily growing pool of them that had collected neatly beneath and on the right-hand side of the rifle they'd been tossed out of.

The rifle's wielder had no need to cycle any action; the Lynx's semi-automatic design had already chambered a fresh round as quick as the last one had gone.

Although where it was going was several hundred yards out, that was no trouble for the .50 cal round. At over 3,000 ft. per second, carrying more than 18,000 joules of force, It covered the distance to its target in scarcely less than a second, before burying itself into the torso armor and chest of a KVA gunman, who was aggressively raking the Guard forces back and forth with a AEK-999 machine gun, mounted on a durasteel barricade.

It was a dead on shot, and the gunner was hurled off the gun as if flicked by a giant's finger, slamming into the pavement.

" Gunner down. MG gunner down ", the sniper reported over the comms, already patched into the Guard's network. " You're all clear, Golf . "

A steady jackhammering racket of gunfire ( at least decent chunk of which was full auto ) filled the background of the response, but not quite enough to drown it out. " ...Copy that, Kalash ! Thanks for the assist ! "

" Be advised: I am engaging targets of opportunity ahead of you. Don't tell me to watch my fire; I know how this is done. "

"..Wasn't going to, Kalash. We're all professionals here. Golf, over. "

The Russian exhaled with slight annoyance, but said nothing more. There were still hostiles to get rid of, after all.

The blood of the last dead one hadn't even begun to pool, before Ilona dialed back the magnification of her scope, smoothly scanning it in a sweep to the right to locate additional targets. With the pitched battle raging below, as the Guard forces began to slowly but inexorably overcome the KVA's line of defense set up outside the plant's expansive main vehicle depot, she had no shortage of those...

None whatsoever.

Even with the Guard forces making their sustained push by company strength against the enemy's weakening front line, there were still at least two dozen KVA left scattered along its length. And, oh yes,they knew there was a sniper in an elevated position, lighting them up, and doing it skillfully...yet they had hardly anywhere to hide behind the barricades, made of jumbled slabs of armor plating they'd piled to use as cover.

But, it could not protect them from her.

The crimson colored crosshairs of the Lynx remained as steady as they could be, while Ilona methodically walked them onto a new target- and in scarcely more than 2 seconds, she had one. A KVA gunman was prone between two sections of improved barricade, right in the shadows they were putting out, with a AK aimed out ahead, spitting out sloppily timed bursts.

Amateur !

Still dangerous, though.

Already, the crosshairs had been settled onto the shooter's back, as pure reflex and years worth of training and field experience began to kick in. Air was sharply drawn in through the Russian sniper's mouth, though it stayed put. Automatically, she willingly blocked out the outside world, save for a token bit of extra focus in case an alert came in over comms.

Both of her arms, firm and strong with muscle yet still streamlined and athletic, easily kept the hefty Lynx from bobbing or wobbling.

A finger, that had squeezed a trigger hundreds if not a thousand times, began to squeeze it again.

A half second later, the Lynx sounded off again, and another brass casing was violently ejected.

The bullet that'd been inside it , on the other hand, was now inside the aforementioned KVA gunman. The terrorist convulsed upon getting hit, partially flipping over, before flopping back down and lying motionless, as a circle of a very dark shade of red liquid began to spread..

Yet another, crossed off and eliminated.

This was the process that had repeated itself over and over again, since the operation to regain control of the plant had begun. As soon as Gideon, Joker, and Mitchell had disembarked to begin their groundpounder assault, the ATLAS VTOL had traveled over to an overwatch position, where it could have an unobstructed view of the the northwest quarter of the Vekron plant-including where the main heavy vehicle depot was located.

From there, the VTOL had engaged its Mirage optical camouflage system , fully hiding it from view. Even if the KVA realized they were under attack from a heliborne sniper platform, they wouldn't be able to ID exactly where it was coming from, as the VTOL was perfectly hidden in a shimmering haze of cloaking, all but utterly undetectable against the pale blue Washington state sky.

It was, in every way, a perfect environment for a huntress.

And the one trimming down the KVA's numbers with her Lynx was taking full advantage of it.

She shot another one of the terrorists dead, as he was running from one point on the defense line to another, with an AK15 in one hand. Less than 10 seconds later, she nailed another that was about to throw a grenade. On each shot, Ilona followed the same cycle of steps: sight down, slip into the zone, steady the Lynx on target...

And then fire. Again, and again, and again.

" Golf, Kalash. Push harder on their left flank. It is thinned, and their cover is minimal..you have the advantage. "

" Received and understood, Kalash. "

One by one, she was weakening the enemy, driving them closer to their breaking point, and by extension, preventing the plant from going full Fukashima. Because, that was exactly what was going to happen if the KVA were allowed to force the reactor to go critical, and completely breach its containment chamber- it would release enough radiation to render the entire city of Seattle, as well as over 57 percent of Washington state , uninhabitable for years. By comparison, Fukashima would seem as nothing more than a minor accident.

Everybody in the world, including her, had seen the recorded historical footage of what had happened there, so long ago ( ie, at the dawn of time, in 2011 ) . The mental image alone of the same thing happening again, let alone on a scale that was bigger times 2 ( if not more ), was definitely one that would not be allowed to occur.

Not on her watch. Not on ATLAS' watch.

Or Jack's...

He's down there as well.

That same thought kept surfacing, repeatedly , as long as the battle continued. Heck, it tended to do that anyway on any Op that they were deployed on together that had them separated during its course...whether by happenstance or design.

" Golf, find cover. KVA's setting up a MG ahead of you, your 1:00...see it ? "

"...Roger that ! Neutralizing with M203..."

That Jack and co was beneath a roof was a problem, because she couldn't watch his back. Usually she could, yes, but Jack was inside the depths of the plant now...completely hidden from any outside eyes.

Which could include hers, as it did today.

It was certainly a distraction, though, in its own unique way. As much as she did care for the rest of the guys in that squad ( even that loudmouthed, hillbilly urod by the name of Joker, for some inexplicable reason ), and as much as she would look out for them as well because that's what good soldiers do, it was still different with Jack. She was..well, she was actually fond of that man. As in, he'd told her he loved her a while ago, during some R and R in Oman.

After months and months of testing the waters, then slowly wading in, that admission had been a long time coming...though Ilona telling him she loved him first might've had something to do with it. Still, either way, the result was the same; things had been great between them, and all the way from then till now.

Nothing was going to get in the way of that, the Russian resolved, as she lined up a KVA RPG operator who'd leaned out from behind the rear bumper of a heavy-capacity truck, and pulled the Lynx's trigger all the way back.

Nothing at all.


God almighty, its loud in here...!

There was no other possible way Mitchell could describe what was going on in his head right now, other than that- his skull was vibrating.

Or, at least something up there was shaking. His helmet was doing its best to dampen the punishing sound waves put out by the titanic turbines that formed a metallic cliff off on his right, draped with lengths of " danger silver and red "-colored ladders that linked each of the turbine wraparound pathways with each other, and the floor. Even so, though...the thrumming VbrooomVbrooomVbrooom of the spinning power generating machinery wasn't entirely blocked out.

Needless to say, though, he had bigger problems.

" One down...that's 3 down ! ", the Marine reported, his raised voice echoing along with the vibrations in his ears, before he retracted into cover behind a fold in the base of the cliff wall.

" Copy ! Down by 3 ! ", Gideon acknowledged.

His IMR's ammo counter burned with 2 zeroes now, so Mitchell ran its reload sequence. Spinning its cylindrical magazine clear of the rifle with a deft wrist movement, he then slapped it back into place, and hit the charging handle.

" 30 ", read the ammo counter, in its burnt orange numbers.

Good-

" Grenade ! Grenade..! "

Joker ?!

Mitchell had already leaned back out from behind the corner, going to a low crouch as soon as he'd reloaded. He was just quick enough to watch a baseball sailing down from the highest level of the cliff...except it wasn't a baseball.

" Move your asses, damn it ! Cover ! "

BWAAM !

A burst of red fire with a shroud of black smoke appeared somewhere in the sunken pathway that ran by the cliff's base, as Mitchell swept his muzzle high. As much as some bit of of him was screaming to go check on his buddies, he couldn't do it yet- he couldn't cross that expanse of ground with so much fire coming down, and not when Gideon had sent him to lead the assault up and over the cliff's top.

He couldn't get an LOS ( line of sight ) on anyone from where he was, though...!

But, that didn't mean he couldn't at least-

" Joker ?! Joker, you good ?! "

"...Aghh, F***...****...we're ok, man, we're ok. Didn't get us. "

Mitchell sent a instant ( mentally uttered ) expression of gratitude skyward. It seemed the good lord had other plans for the Arkansas man...

" You still combat effective, Joker ?! ", demanded their Captain.

Bulldog incoming..

"...Roger that, sir ! My guys ain't hurt. "

" Then you carry on, and you do it yesterday ! We are on the clock here, people ! Let's go ! Mitchell...move up ! Higher levels by stages...execute ! "

...and the taskmaster. Yeah..

Well, his teammate had somehow come though that uninjured, so Mitchell's blood could stop being made of ice anymore. Now, he could turn all focus back around to the ATLAS soldiers arrayed behind him.

Enough wallowing in the mud..we got to grab the high ground...!

Yesterday...

" Carter ! ", he addressed the one nearest to him. " You're with me- we're taking the ladder up there. That one, right there, got it ?! "

The soldier he'd called Carter, with his own face mostly obscured by his own CBRN gear, nodded attentively as he gripped his own IMR with both gloved hands.

Though Carter wasn't technically in Mitchell's own squad, he'd still worked with him over a dozen times over the past few years. They'd fought side by side on Ops on several continents and at least 9 different countries, including Taiwan, Israel, Rhodesia ( Zimbabwe ), Algeria and Chile. Across the duration of that many hours outside the wire, they'd built up a decently strong brother-and-brother bond that was the only one of its kind Mitchell had with anyone in ATLAS...aside from Joker.

Carter was a straight talking, level headed and competent Californian ( which, in of itself, was a borderline rarity ), who'd done a few tours with the US Army's Rangers, before mustering out and sighing up with ATLAS. Since then, he'd gone through some serious killzones alongside the Marine, and then had been down for some good card games, talking garbage about random stuff, and cold drinks during the rest of the usual R and R that followed. As much as friends went, he was the closest Mitchell had to one since Will had died in South Korea- died, because Mitchell hadn't been able to save him, no matter what anyone else said.

All told and considering all, Mitchell was keen on letting someone who he'd finally been able to befriend since Will get himself killed if he could stop it. But, not only were they working the same Op yet again here, but as the ranking and most experienced field officer, Gideon had put Carter's fireteam under Mitchell, who just barely outranked him anyway, as soon as they'd come out of the Decon corridor and begun wading through the turbine chamber battle.

The Californian had willingly complied, and gotten his own guys in line. Mitchell recognized both of them- Tanner and Zane- from an Op they'd run on the south side of the Zambezi river, and immediately remembered that they had their *** together as well. Between the lot of them, they had the situation well in hand.

...Or so I sure as hell pray and hope.

" Tanner...Zane ! Watch our 6, till my signal ! "

" Roger that, sir ! We've got your back ! ". Tanner promised, flicking the fire selector switch on his SN6 SMG to full auto. Nearby, Zane mirrored both actions, while nodding to signify that he was ready as well.

All on point...

Let's rock !

" You good back there ?! ", Mitchell demanded.

" Yes, sir ! "

" Then we're moving now, Carter ! "

With that, Mitchell launched himself off the spot where he'd been standing at a run, and the close range pounding of boots told him Carter was close behind. He covered the handful of meters to the base of the ladder he was aiming for in a few seconds, while keeping his eyes high for the KVA. The wall of noise from all the gunfire had died down by many degrees ( but, not the one from the roaring turbines, of course. Those were still going. ), at least from the sunken road. Mitchell couldn't tell if that was the same for the upper tiers, though, and if the KVA was still camped out up there.

But, they didn't appear, and the Marine made the ladder's lowest end.

" Get set, Mike...". Mitchell stowed his IMR, slinging it over his right shoulder. " Going up here... !"

" Copy that. Setting security. "

Having covered his back, Mitchell was free to scale the ladder's rungs, which he did. Hand over hand, he clambered his way up as quick as he could, but stopped short of going fully over the highest one, as he waited for the KVA to meet him.

Having drawn his A45 handgun, Mitchell stayed put, raising the weapon's muzzle, anticipating a grenade to drop, or someone to show themselves. But, it didn't happen, and after another second, the Marine pulled himself the rest of the way...

Lord, ambush country..!

...and there was still nobody. The ladder topped off on a round plain right beside the base of one of the rotating turbine housings, which explained why everything here was even more deafening to unprotected ears than everywhere else in this place. But, there was no KVA to jump down his throat, so-

There's that, I suppose. He switched to a dual hand grip on the A45 and sighted down...

Alright then...

" Carter ! Bring 'em up ! Now, now ! "

" Copy that. Oscar mike ! "

Slotting the A45 away, Mitchell went back to his IMR, shouldering it as he waited for the others. After a few more seconds of holding the line alone, ringing metal and scuffing sounds gave away that the rest of his unit arriving on his 20.

" All accounted for, sir. "

" Ready on you, sir ! "

Sparing a glance over his 6:00, Mitchell found that was true. Each and every one , all there.

Now it was time to press.

" Watch your lanes, and lets' move ! ", the Marine shouted, setting off again.

" Captain ?! We've made it to the top level- clearing it now ! "

Gideon couldn't have sounded any less brusque if he'd been stuck at the DMV ( stuck, not visiting, because one always gets pointlessly stuck at the DMV ). " Acknowledged. .Get it done, Marine. "

" Leave it to me, sir ."

Yeah, the Brit sure was, wasn't he...because the transmission was over for a millisecond before-

" Mitchell ! Taking sniper fire from the upper decks ! Find the- "

Before he'd finished the whole thing, Mitchell spied a KVA sharpshooter, prone and mostly hidden behind a pile of sandbags, and dead ahead. The terrorist was armed with an VSS Vintorez, whose muzzle was caught mid flash as it send a round out.

Mitchell's own was blazing as well by then, taking the shooter out with a burst to the ribcage.

" Naturalized, sir. 1 Shooter with an VSS Vintorez , eliminated. "

The Marine turned to look down into the sunken road by the cliff's base, and through the jumbled mass of industrial machinery that stood several yards tall ( and had been responsible for God knows what ), he struggled to spot Gideon and Joker's team...

Left 'em down there somewhere...

" ...Copy that, Mitchell. "

The Brit stepped into view then, out from around some tall green thing, with Joker and the rest of the ATLAS forces they'd rounded up in the turbine chamber trickling out as well. To Mitchell's surprise, all of them were still vertical. A bit scattered, but they were already coalescing into a compact squad again.

Surprised ? Ha...Gideon's been cracking the whip all day. That's no doubt a major factor in why they're still breathing...

As if on cue, Gideon looked upward then, and spotted Mitchell. " Marine ! Stop gawking, damn it. Still got to link up with the Guard forces ahead ! "

He knifed a hand ahead of him, toward where the chamber stretched out, as Joker came up alongside and swapped a fresh magazine into his smoking ASM1.

" ...Yeah, what he said, golden boy ! ", the Arkansas man added. " Still on the clock, remember ? "

" Hey, Joker ?! Get screwed. Captain ? I'll meet you at the RV. "

" That's what I want to hear. Push on that point, Mitchell ! "

" On it, sir ! "

He sure as snow was white was...and had been for the better part of two hours now. That bothersome sandpaper sensation on the inside of your mouth from having not drunk anything for that long had set in for a while...along with a mild soreness of his fingers from pulling triggers so much.

Then...there was the persistent unease he had about the reactor having sprung a leak already. Could it have, he wondered ? The alarms would've gone off by now if that was true- they would have, he was sure. And actually knew, from what limited knowledge he had of nuclear plants. That being said, though, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd already walked into it...

That prickly feeling down my legs I'm getting just now...its only nerves, right ?

Yeah...that's it.

But, this was the life he wanted, and the one he choose to lead. So, he'd do what Marines do: fight on and power through it.

He was going to get this thing done, no matter what.


Another 20 minutes later, he'd just about gotten there.

Standing at the top of the end of the multi-tiered cliff that wrapped around the power generators, having walked over another 3 utterly dead KVA that'd been lying in wait for them around another bend in the local machinery bank ( and would've succeeded, if one of them hadn't accidentally poked a muzzle around the corner, giving them all away and prompting Carter to fling a frag grenade in there to handle the problem ), the Marine was striding up to the guard rail's ending section, as it finished wrapping around the top tier before burying itself into the duracrete wall beyond.

Speaking of beyond, it was a very loud, and very violent one.

Across from the rail, there was a mirror version of the tiered cliff that Mitchell had been clawing his way along, complete with its own sunken road littered with bulky machinery planted in it. And, like its sibling, the other half of the gargantuan turbine chamber was littered with KVA fireteams exchanging fire, though for them, it was the National Guard that was forcing them to surrender ground.

Muzzleflashes flickered white-red like fireflies in the dimmed lights- the opposite half must've taken some explosive damage to its overhead lighting, because there were plenty of shadows. It wasn't completely dark, though, and besides...the ATLAS's HUD would carve through that like a hot knife through butter.

Which Mitchell's already automatically was, as he braced himself on the rail, and began scanning for a target. A quick hand chop sent the squad behind him to cover his left flank, where there was more room, as he searched for a mark...

...and found one, shooting dead a terrorist mid-grenade toss. Before the dead body even hit the deck, Mitchell moved on, looking for another even as a different another went down out the corner of his eye- whether Carter had gotten that one or not, the Marine could not say.

He ran out of ammo, the counter showing 2 zeroes, so he swapped out the cylinder, with the same practiced-to-heck movements, and began engaging again.

Another grenade went out, and exploded ahead of him.

Not that it mattered...

" Captain ?! We've got an LOS on the KVA's 6:00...engaging now ! "

"...Copy that, Mitchell ! Keep on them... we're moving up as I speak ! "

No need to say it twice, sir. Mitchell lined up another shot, then quickly dropped another terrorist mid-grenade toss. The rest of them were already scattering like kicked up dust, frantically scrambling to react to the attack on their flank- even as the National Guard kept right on pressing their attack, with Bal-27 assault rifles blazing away. 40mm grenades were rocketing over the leads of their guys in the front ranks, spat from their M209 launchers.

The KVA, with no room for doubt about it, was now caught in a hydraulic vise- and they knew it. They definitely did, given how their cohesion was overtly beginning to wobble. Most of , if not all of, their remaining forces were practically spinning around on their feet, not sure whether to fire forward or backwards, and the ones who did have a handle on controlling where their fire went seemed heavily outnumbered, both by their own and the ATLAS/ National Guard hammer and anvil assault that was inexorably crushing them into powder.

Between the advance of the Federal troops, and the ATLAS forces raining lead on them from both the high and low ground, the KVA couldn't last long...

..and they won't.

" Mitchell ! I'm in position- watch your lanes to the left ! ", hollered the Brit.

Another KVA was collapsing from an IMR shot to the head that Mitchell had landed as the alert came in...and it was good news for sure. Fresh adrenaline bubbled through him; they were just about done here now !

Aha...there are the friendly markers...down there. Thanks, HUD.

Bring the pain...

" Copy that, Captain..! ", the Marine acknowledged.

He switched at once to speak to his own team. " Guys ! Captain's got an angle on them...! "

" Focus your shots, keep watching your lanes, and let's clean this place up ! Come on ! "

" Copy that, LT ! "

" On it, sir !

" Roger that,sir. "

Acknowledgments came in from everyone , and with them, Mitchell doubled down- he was so certain , that they were about to win this thing.

No, he knew it. Nobody could survive getting piled on from front and back simultaneously...and within the next few seconds, that maxim was proven true for the umpteenth time.

The remnants of the KVA- what handful were left- were getting decimated. They danced in the hurricane of bullets as the junction between the two halves of the turbine chamber filled with a vortex of white hot, screaming metal. Rounds pierced and killed them from behind, dead ahead, and even from the side, while thudding explosive weaponry flung them like dolls, or swallowed them in red-orange fireballs.

None of them attempted to surrender to save themselves from the massacre... it was hard to be sure from this distance, but all the blood spattered around the ones who'd gone down seemed a pretty good sign theY'd gone from KVA to KIA.

Fanaticism ? Refusal to rot in prison for 20 to 50 years / Mitchell didn't know which, and he didn't care. If they wouldn't give up, that was more than ok.

He just wanted them all dead. He wanted to erase them...these maddened technophobes who'd wanted to blow up a nuclear plant right on the doorstep of a major US city ! There were 700,000 residents of Seattle, and the anatomy of that city would be burned out like a blowtorch to cotton if this plant went kaboom..

The blast wave...the resulting contamination...the long term denial of anyone every able to live there ever again...it was all unacceptable. No, no these terrorists would be disappointed today. They would not succeed...not with this.

The gunfire was dying out by now, dropping down from a raging storm to just bursts of firecrackers here and there.

Mitchell caught another one in his crosshairs- quite possibly the last one. The terrorist had risen from behind a barrel, an AK15 clutched in both hands, seemingly about to fire. All around , were dead KVA...or dying ones.

..and the Marine landed a perfect headshot, dropping his mark like a sack of sand to the duracrete floor.

The latest in a very long line in this fight, and by the rhythm, Mitchell was already searching for the next...

...but he couldn't find anyone else to shoot at. For the first time in the fight, as he moved his muzzle around from one side to the other, he could spot...nothing.

Many, many KVA were sprawled out all over the floor in every kind of post-moterm pose: face down, faceup, on their sides, on their backs, all with patches of blood gradully expanding from where they'd been shot. Rifles and SMGs haphazardly lay just out of reach, dropped by their owners, while hundreds ( if not thousand+) of spent brass casings littered the entire length of the entire endzone of the chamber halves...end to end. They were clumped and strewn around the dead, glinting the color of honey under the bright overhead lights.

The last lingering echoes of all the firearms that'd been going off in here, were now dispensing. Even through his helmet, Mitchell could sense the new quiet...or at least the lack of raging noise. Muffled, sure, but it was still there.

...Is it over ?

Is it ? Adrenaline was leaving him again, trickling away...and that just didn't happen unless things were over. He'd done this kind of thing long enough to know that much.

A clean sweep, it appears.

Just the way it should be.

" Team ?! ". He kept the IMR up, and didn't turn his head, but he was going to check on them anyway. ".. Anyone hit ?! Sound off."

" Nothing to report, sir. "

" Good over here, sir. "

" Not a scratch, sir. "

Carter...Tanner...Zane..

Full headcount, all scratched off.

A sense of triumph washed over the Marine, and the corner of his mouth twitched up.

"...Mitchell ?! Area's clear ! I send again, area clear ! Confirm ?! "

The Marine blinked, lowering his IMR. His shoulders finally went down as well...they'd been raised to keep his rifle to his eyes.

Gotcha, boss.

Yeah...I can do that.

" Copy that, sir. Area's clear from up here as well...no more hostiles in sight. "

" Good...now, is your team alright ? "

Oh, that was an easy one.

" No casualties, Captain. We're good to go when you say. "

" That would be right now, Mitchell. Get yourself and your lads down here yesterday- there's nothing between the control room now, and we're taking it ! "

" Come on ! "

" Roger that, sir ! On our way...! "


The finish line was theirs on a golden platter...

Mitchell, the ATLAS forces, and the Guard had fought their way though dozens if not a hundred+ KVA fanatics inhabiting the Vekron plant, all to reach the control room buried so deep within it. That one room was worth its weight in gold and palladium, with how it was the sole means to absolutely prevent the facility's reactors from turning into giant bombs, and taking Seattle ( plus the surrounding area ) with them.

No wonder they'd put up such resistance. No wonder they'd died to the last. As long as they could block access to the CR, their plot to blow the plant could still be accomplished...except, needless to say, they didn't have it anymore.

Well, they didn't have the outside anymore. But the CR was now just a stone's toss away- right down the length of a corridor that fed into the turbine chamber's t-junction where it's halves came together.

Just there. Hardly even a Sunday stroll.

" Mitchell ! ", Gideon had greeted him in his usual way as soon as his and the Marine's fireteams had linked up. " Rally up...! "

He beckoned sharply, and Mitchell obliged by speeding up to a jog, with Carter, Zane, and Tanner mirroring accordingly. About 5 seconds later, they'd merged with the Brit's own squad (which still had Joker in it...).

Man...that hick just can't die..!

..and were some NG soldiers who'd been released from the rest of their unit's task of forming a rear guard to protect the main push on the CR, as well as salvaging what ammo there was to be found.

" We're all here, boss ", Mitchell reported. He indicated the others with a quick head tip. " Everyone. "

Gideon examined the squad briefly, doing a rapid headcount without saying a word. Soon enough, though, he completed it, and nodded abruptly.

" ..Well done. "

" No problem, sir. "

" Captain Ansen! "

One of the Guard soldiers had stepped forward from the group, gripping a Bal-27 carried muzzle-down.

Gideon glanced over, as the soldier addressed him directly. " My men and I are all set to go though. Ready when you are ! "

" Copy !", the Brit replied. " Standby, Leftenant. "

Turning back to the ATLAS men, he proceeded to deliver a Gideon-style last minute field briefing/mission plan reminder.

"...Alright then ! Listen up-we're going though those doors right there, and we're going to breach and clear the control room. No explosives- we can't risk damaging the computers . We need them to cool the reactors down, now. They could enter meltdown phase at any moment."

He clenched a fish, and lifted it for emphasis. " I won't say this again: No. Damn. Explosives ! Understood ?! "

Even through his helmet, his voiced steel was audible. It wasn't quite Drill Sergeant...just a immensely matter-of-fact way of stressing how they had to pay attention.

And it did the trick.

" You mean me, boss... "

Damn it, Joker..!

" You, them, me...the lot of us, Joker ! "

Mitchell let another smirk manifest, just for a second. It was always good, watching Joker getting shut down.

"We are not going to screw things up this close to wrapping this up ! We will get it done ! "

Gideon made an " form on me ! " lasso motion with that raised fist, then turned toward the doors. Nearby, the Guard forces ran along with them.

Said corridor's doors, both of which were heavily armored, steel slabs with tracks in the floor for them to roll on. They weren't nearly as thicc as a bank vault, but they were impenetrable for what they had to do...containing whatever lethal mix might come rushing down the hall behind from a reactor disaster.

It could've been a real obstacle...and should've been. The red light burning right above the doors showed they were indeed locked in " Emergency mode "...completely sealed from this side.

Strong though they were, however...ATLAS had developed a breach charge for just such a situation.

" Everyone: Stack on the doors ! Mitchell ! Take yours on the right. "

" Copy that, Captain..! "

" Joker ! We're setting the charge center mass on this thing ! ", Gideon switched tack.

Got it, boss ! Ready to knock ! "

The Arkansas man was already unboxing the bomb from its storage pouch attached to his suit, switching his ASM1 to one hand-

- but, right as the stacks of breach teams were collecting along their respective sides of the doors, the entire threat level skyrocketed out of nowhere.

A klaxon began to blare. Loudly, immediately filling the entire chamber with thunderous pattern of: ReeeeA...ReeeeeA...ReeeeA !

ReeeeA...ReeeeA...ReeeeA !

It was no ordinary klaxon, though. It was, without any room for doubt in anybody who was hearing it ears, what it was. They'd all been briefed on that it represented...

Total Reactor Coolant Loss...TRCL.

The meltdown...had begun. The reactor was now completely freefalling toward a cataclysmic detonation.

And their window to stop it was already halfway closed.