0111

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Fluorescent hands ticked down. MDR laid still on her cradle, her hands clasped over her chest, clutching her phone dear. Her eyes trembled under her puffy lids as though she was having a sorrowful dream, undisturbed by the incessant server hums and the clicking and clacking on David's console. 

 

The samovar had not steamed for the past hour. The teacup had frosted over. The face was scarcely warmed by the pricking backlight of the screen. 

 

Blue stars arrayed orderly in the black expanse, southeast of where red ought to blink. 

 

The fluorescent hands ticked down. 0114. Frosted breath choked out from the lungs, claws dug into the console. Picked up the radio. It was almost time. 

​

​

​

2332

​

Welrod cautiously heaved the insulated backpack onto her shoulders as Sten cleared out her utensils. “Madame M4,” she said, directing her emerald gaze towards M4. “Our comrades await us still. The moment of sortie is nigh.”

 

M4 did not respond. Her curled index finger over her lips, her brows furrowed. Her brown eyes traced the red line snaking along the northern cliff’s edge.

 

Welrod kept her gaze on the Command Doll, her frown radiated intense scepticism.

 

“What I ask of you is no easy thing.” 

 

M4 blinked and lifted her gaze to glare at the false eyes. “Isn’t this why you chose us?” 

 

Her phrasing left very little room for confidence.

 

“With all due respect, My Lord,” Welrod said, her emerald gaze falling upon the false eyes. “Shouldn’t this mission be left to myself and my comrades in Team SVD? If I understand correctly, Madame and Madame’s sisters are not bequeathed the gift of resurrection.” 

 

“We are still alive after all this time, aren’t we?” AR-15 cut in with her arms folded over her chest.. 

 

The blonde doll pursed her lips, frowned and simply nodded.

 

“Any objections to the plan?” 

 

M4 sighed. “Commander, I’ve told you I’m ready.” Before her wavering gaze could lower, Sop II blurted out, “Yeah! Let us at ’em! We will blow them Sangvis bastards to pieces!” 

 

“Oi! Leave some for me!” Ingram cried, her bluster matching the black-garbed doll’s enthusiasm. 

 

“No way! You gotta race me for Intruder’s head!”

 

M4 wore a brief smile. Welrod simply frowned and withheld her comments. She was still unconvinced, but she showed willingness to give Team M4A1 the benefit of the doubt.

 

This will have to suffice. 

 

“Commander!” David emerged from among the trucks, panting. Towed behind him was MDR, clinging to his left thigh, wailing, swearing, and striking his hip with a balled fist. He was carrying the heterochromatic doll’s drone. 

 

He held out the drone and its control unit towards M4. 

 

“Plan B”.

 

After receiving the drone, Welrod and Team M4A1 collected their gear. 

 

“Welrod departs to rejoin her comrades, My Lord.”

 

“Team M4A1, sortieing.”

 

“Wait a moment.”

 

The departing dolls paused and looked over their shoulders. 

 

Got up from the bench. Showed M4 the back of the true arm. 

 

“Bump. For good luck.”

 

With her usual hesitation, M4 bumped her arm against the true arm. Welrod was next.

 

“Hey! No fair!” Sop II protested, throwing her hands overhead. “No fair, Commander! I want it, too!” 

 

“Me too! Me too, (Pops)!” both Ingram and Nineteen clamoured. 

 

Bumps exchanged. AR-15, even more hesitant than her team leader, was the last recipient. 

 

Inhaled. Exhaled. The dolls gawked, waiting for a follow-up they were sure was inevitable. 

 

Bit the lower lip. Lowered the true arm. The lungs contracted uneasily. 

 

“Godspeed, all of you.”

​

​

​

0115

​

The order conveyed. The frontmost two blips began their crawl; BTRs pushed the expended dummy containers towards the Sangvis wall. Slowly, agonisingly, furtively slow. Delaying their discovery for as long as possible.  

 

Flashes to the north, revealing brief glimpses of red. Energy projectiles sparked mere inches away from the creeping blue dots. Too quickly, but still within tolerance. 

 

Picked up the radio, pressed the headset’s button. “Command to Perseids, begin. Command to U-Major, Sangvis response.”

 

The truck trembled. Cannons thundered. Distant detonations revealed the red line manning the enemy’s bulwark. The BTRs emitted smoke and sped up, but kept their velocities below their limits. 

 

More lights on the main screen, radiating close to the BTRs, adding to the ejected dust and smoke. One Jaguar shell had struck the roof of the dummy container. 

 

“Command to U-Major. Status.”

 

“Rides’ rattled but okay,” Grizzly’s voice cracked. “Slowing down now!” 

 

More Jaguar shells landed off-mark, yet three detonated too close to the vehicles.

 

“Now speeding up!”

 

“Report your status.”

 

“Neural cloud’s hot, but I’m hanging on!” Strain in her voice even. “Gotta thank Sarge and MDR. Buy them a pint. How’s MDR doing?” 

 

MDR, still clutching her phone to her chest, seemingly dreamed serenely, undistressed by the ongoing commotion.

 

“She is working.”

 

“Right. Thank her for that botnet program for me when she wakes up, will ya?”

 

“Thank her in person.”

 

BTRs seven hundred metres from the walls. 

 

“Then I better make sure I don’t burn myself up before then. Needa focus now.” 

 

The headset fell silent, then beeped again. 

 

“Team Skorpion to Command! How’s everyone? Can we charge yet?”

 

“Command to Team Skorpion, hold position.”

 

“It’s been ten minutes! Alyona’s slowing down already!”

 

“Hold position, await further orders.” Bit the lower lip. Spoke again. “Have faith in M4.”

 

Scarlet star ignited over the dark expanse. Ten blue blips clustered above and below the cliff, along with half the total number of red. Team M4 and Team SVD microdrone feeds lit up. Muzzle flashes, tracer rounds, energy bolts. Intruder had anticipated the incursion, prepared and responded accordingly. 

 

A buzz on the headset, a tingle in the ears. That all-familiar husk emitted, “How kind of you to send me such delectable gifts.” 

 

“Breach in Port Two-Hundred,” David yelled with a start. “Stop moping about and move it!” 

 

“But you didn’t have to send your gifts through the back way, dear Commander,” Intruder continued to mock. “That is too coy of you.”

 

“AR-15! Sudaev!” M4 cried, neglecting radio discipline. AR-15 and Sudaev were pinned down, separated from their team. Intruder had trained her minigun-cannon at them, withering their cover.

 

“Timur!”

​

Seeing that her sister was in danger, Sop II leapt over her cover and launched her grenade. “Eat this, Sangvis scum!” Yet, Dinergates had cut between her and the Ringleader, forcing the grenade to detonate off-target. 

 

“Cetin! Timur’s in danger! I’m going to get him out!”

 

“Sultan to…Zol…tan. That position’s…too exposed.” 

 

“Sop II! Dragoons!” M4 shouted her warning.  

 

Sop II swung her weapon towards the skirmishers, rapidly closing. As they exchanged fire, Sturmgewehr slid beside M4 and launched her grenade at the Dragoons, dismounting three of them. MG5 finished them off. Before the machine-gunner and riflewoman could fire upon the remaining Dragoons, they ducked, Jaeger fire missing them by inches. Sop II, however, was struck in her ribs despite her tumbling. 

​

“Zoltan! Sniper’s got Zoltan!”

​

“Get back in cover!” M4 shouted as she shot at the Dragoon that stomped over her cover. 

​

“Get back in cover! Zoltan! Shit! They got him! And Khadir, too!”

 

Sop II, having killed the Jaeger that shot her, replied in dismay, “But AR-15!”

 

“Do as she says!” AR-15 barked as she pawed at the drone beneath her jacket. “I’ll figure something out.”

 

“Demir to Sultan! I see a route behind the sniper! I’m going in! Hang on, Timur!” 

​

SVD slid down the cliff face, firing her rifle on the way down. Her shots struck two Jaegers, pinned down the rest. Nineteen dismounted her gun and rushed towards M4 and Sop II, eliminating the last of the Dragoons. 

 

Intruder swung her muzzle towards Sudaev’s arced grenade, granting AR-15 a window to return fire. Sudaev used the distraction to hurtle the drone towards the generator.

 

Inhaled. Counted to three. Exhaled. True palm, sweaty and trembling. False arm ailed by stabbing sensations. 

 

The contingency has been put into effect. Ingram had enveloped AR-15, Sudaev and Sop II in a smoke curtain to cover their withdrawal. Things will be different this time.

 

“Oh, you. The drones again.” 

 

Intruder spun her weapon to its other end and shot the drone with unerring accuracy. 

 

“And with that, I have subverted your expectations.” 

 

“Demir’s down! The route’s overwatched!” 

​

False finger on the headset’s button, primed to push. Radio slippery in the true hand’s grip. Team M4A1 and SVD beyond our reach, their backs against the wall.

 

Demir...Zoltan...Timur...Khadir…

 

Living brothers, died on behest of a corpse.

 

Dust flecks rose from their bloodied sheets into the broken light, like souls sundered from their mortal shells.

 

The black wall stood, the shield still active, Sangvis garrison remained invulnerable. Vespids and Rippers flanking around the generator. 

 

Two Ingrams lobbed their smoke grenades towards the gaps between the armoured vehicles and machine-gun nests. Once the plumes reached sufficient volume, Team HK416 charged towards the door.

 

Telecoms Tower, Novum Sambir.

 

No, not yet. The battle has yet to be lost! Team M4A1 and Team SVD have regrouped. With Nineteen and Sturmgewehr bringing up the rear and SVD on overwatch, they can still rush the generator!

 

Unmarked grave. Commander Thomas Archibald.

 

“We will win, for Skorpion’s sake.”

​

“Command to Team M4A1 and Team SVD...”

 

“M...-M16!?”

 

Red blips at the southeast corner of the generator winked out. Bright flash on the micro-drone feed. Intruder staggered, hand over her eyes, shaking her head. Tracer rounds sparked against her chassis.

 

“It’s M16! Sis M16!” 

 

M16 lunged at the Ringleader like a thunderbolt, her expended rifle discarded, her unsheathed knife like a bared fang. 

 

Momentary distraction. Just enough!

 

“SVD! Overwatch! Sturmgewehr and MG5! Cover fire! Everyone else! Generator! Now!” 

 

Sniper fire heralded the dolls’ charge. Smoke engulfed the visuals. AR-15 snatched the drone wreckage along her path. 

 

M16 plunged her knife into Intruder’s forearm, and the Ringleader pushed her away. The Cyclopean doll lunged again before the Ringleader could bring her weapon to bear. They struggled over the minigun-cannon. The Jaegers took aim, and the Rippers charged. In their bid to assist their master, they gave away their positions and were swiftly cut down by Thirteen and Sturmgewehr.

 

Ingram and Welrod jumped the first Rippers to turn the corner, battered them and shot or stabbed them under their chins. Another Ripper lunged at them, and Sop II rendered it asunder. She then laid down suppressive fire and kept further reinforcements at bay.

 

AR-15 shoved the drone into the generator’s crevice, then gave way for Sudaev to jimmy the detonator and plant additional charges. They pulled back, their teammates covering their retreat. 

 

The generator engulfed the closing Sangvis in flames and debris.

 

“Command to All! Commence Phase Three!”

 

Tarp buffeted by sudden squall. Engines howled, cannons roared. Bright flashes on the black wall, three blue blips soared in formation ahead of the convoy line. 

 

More flares lit up the sky. Aboard the Kamov, Fleur’s fury scythed through every Sangvis in her path, allowing Siskins 1 and 2 to arrive unscathed. The aforementioned transport helicopters dropped dummy containers while the aux guards on board unleashed grenade barrages, throwing the Sangvis counterattack in further disarray. 

 

Fifteen blue blips winked online. Team M4A1 and SVD dummies rushed for the nearest cover and began attacking. 

 

A truck loaded with surplus hellcannon shells had sped ahead of the convoy, careened past the dummies, and crashed into the retaliating Sangvis mob. 

 

Microdrone feeds rocked. Fiery debris and gouts of flame rained down upon the reeling Sangvis. Two gun trucks swerved through the resultant gap, running down survivors. Deuce and her dummies overlapped their fields of fire while the transports disgorged their passengers. 

 

“U-Major to All! Deliveries at the door!”

 

"Team Skorpion to U-Major! We are well past the door!” 

 

The arrivals joined the dummies’ advance. Red clusters melted away under unrelenting assault from two fronts.

 

“Team Makarov to All! Quit the chatter! We’ve got work to do!”

 

“Aye, aye, Comrade Commissar!” 

 

“I said I’m not...Never! Mind!”

 

Intruder stumbled backwards, spilling coolant onto the soot and snow. Her right arm hung limply by her side. She haphazardly swung her weapon upwards, just in time to deflect M16’s deathly strike. Undeterred, M16 rushed at her again, her blade aimed at her chest. The Ringleader swung down, then slammed her cannon at her opponent’s nose. M16 swerved and weaved and plunged her knife into the Ringleader’s collarbone. 

 

The Ringleader’s movement grew sloppy and desperate, either from her dwindling state or from the knowledge of her depleting forces. She retreated, step by step, her back towards a cuboid structure with an antenna, her command post. Then, the Cyclopean doll unexpectedly pulled back. Intruder swung her weapon upwards without hesitation, her projectiles tracing a scar towards the retreating doll. Before the energy bolts connected, however, her weapon shattered and failed. She veered towards Mosin Nagant and her smoking gun.

 

The white sniper pulled back her bolt. 

 

There was nary a hint of red on the main screen. 

 

Intruder dropped her disabled weapon by her feet and looked towards the microdrone. She smiled as rifles cracked with perfect synchronicity. 

 

The battle was concluded.

​

​

​

0230

​

Inside the dimly lit Sangvis command post, by the tea table, sat the waving M16. She sported a crimson gash across her cheek, a wound M4 had inflicted previously, not out of anger but out of relief. 

 

“Hey! You must be the Commander,” she greeted amicably. “I would have stood up to salute, but as you can see…” she gestured at the wounded limb. “...I’ve hurt my leg.”

 

Misaligned servo. She couldn’t have received this wound from Intruder; none of her strikes were aimed at the limb.

 

“When did you receive that wound?”

 

“Since two days ago,” M16 replied with a nonchalant smile. “There was an…unforeseen encounter that turned violent.”

 

Two days ago? Yet she engaged Intruder so ferociously like a starving hound! 

 

“You are as excellent a soldier as 416 made you out to be, M16.”

 

Her smile dimmed slightly. “So you already know me.”

 

“416 and M4 spoke much about you. M4 also mentioned you have a message to convey.”

 

She glanced at M4, who averted her gaze. Seeing the response, M16 curled a grin. Her expression then turned severe. “Skipping the pleasantries then. I have vital information…”

 

“It’s raining on the plains.” 

 

False hand on the holster. M4, her sisters, Skorpion and Makarov drew their arms. However, M16 remained at ease.

 

“I knew she wouldn’t leave without a last word.” M16 sighed. “Don’t worry. The base is running on emergency power. Not enough juice for any defences.”

 

“Quite the acute observer.” The darkened screens lit up, displaying the static-filled image of Intruder, serene despite the circumstances. “Is an eye the price for such insight, I wonder?”

 

“What do you want, Intruder?” M4 lowered her weapon, yet her shoulders remained tense. “You’ve lost!”

 

“Yet I am joyous.” The Ringleader smiled jubilantly. “After all, I have completed my mission. Ah ah!” She wagged her finger condescendingly. “No need to be violent. I am just an uploaded psyche. A digital copy. I am perfectly harmless.” She then wore an expression of mock dismay. “After all, you did vanquish me so utterly. Won’t you indulge my fancies, dear Commander, before I depart for the Elysian Fields?”

 

“If you are here to piss us off,” Sop II shouted, brandishing her gun, “...why don’t you just die properly?” She aimed her weapon at the blinking lights lining the walls.

 

“Oh, would someone muzzle the mutt?” the Intruder copy rolled her eyes. “I have answers for your Commander.” Her sapphire eyes laid upon the false gaze. “You do have questions, don’t you, dear Commander Cetin Yilmaz?”

 

Grip tightened on the Grach. 

 

“You know me?”

 

Intruder giggled. “There’s so much chatter sublimating this wintry air, and I am a good listener.” Her gaze then fixed upon the false eyes. “You are so far from home, dear Cetin Yilmaz.”

 

“Cetin’s home is right here!” Skorpion brandished her fist. Intruder sneered at her in response.

 

“...You said you have completed your mission. What is it?” 

 

“My mission is to kill time. Your time, specifically.” She sighed in mock dismay. “I had wished to draw out this dance for longer. Much, much longer. Beyond the time limit allotted to me by my dear Mastermind. Perhaps...for...an...eternity.” She shrugged her shoulders in false dejection, “Alas, the curtain must fall and the symphony must conclude.” 

 

“You were holding out for reinforcements.”

 

Intruder’s reply contradicted her cheerful smile, “There never was to be any reinforcements.” 

 

No reinforcements? Then, what was the motive that drove such ferocious resistance? For her to unleash upon us a cavalry she knew would not survive and that Scarecrow dummy that would have been better served elsewhere? With what she had, an evacuation should have been possible. 

 

“You are abandoned, yet you sacrificed so tremendously. You are beyond reason.” 

 

“Oh, my dear Commander, you are such a thespian. Posturing as though you weep for my demise. As though my death is final.” The Ringleader giggled mirthfully. “If this isn’t a charade, I would have been touched. I did not forfeit my life for a whim. All this rage and fury is for my Mastermind’s plan.”

 

“This plan, this ‘rain on the plains’, what is it?”  

 

She smirked. “A question reserved for the next episode. Have patience, dear Commander.” Her intonation dragged into an amused drawl, “Drama…is about…suspense.”

 

Intruder was prepared for Team M4A1 and Team SVD. Moreover, she had delivered a mocking message yesterday morning, a modus operandi identical to the Hacker who informed of the goat’s path winding behind this Sangvis base, had it included the black screen and the yellow text. 

 

“You were prepared for an attack from the rear.”

 

“I am well aware of your hounds sniffing about my flanks,” Intruder sounded prideful. “I am Intruder. There is no nook and cranny of my subsector which I am ignorant about.” 

 

Skorpion shuddered. Intruder had turned her gaze towards her. “Yes, Skorpion dear, I know of your little warren to the southeast. It is by my mercy that you and your friends were safe in your scurrying and skulking about.” She waved at the submachine-gunner dismissively. “You were too easy a mark, an ineffective antagonist. No twists, no tension, middling conflict. The ending is so obvious it can be discerned from the first line of the prologue. You weren’t worth my time.”

 

“Why you-!” 

 

Skorpion fell silent, having beheld the raised hand.

 

“Yet, for all your alleged omniscience, you failed to foresee the intrusion of my two infiltration echelons, their springing of a counter-ambush during the first phase of our incursion. Moreover, you were blindsided by M16.”

 

Skorpion glared at Intruder’s image and dared to grin. 

 

The Ringleader sighed in mock dejection. “Yes, in my hubris, I am blind to the happenings beyond my moat, beyond the boundaries of my drawbridge. And I have dragged on my pursuit for M16 for too long, granted her too much respite.” She glared at the aforementioned doll, who gave her nary a look. Her smile took on a venomous quality. “I found her too compelling an antagonist to end our conflict…without…a…proper…buildup.” 

 

M16 grunted and responded to her taunts with a hostile glare.

 

“A-hah!” Intruder brought her fingers together and giggled gleefully. “That is a good antagonist’s look! How tragic our arc should end so prematurely!”

​

“You’ve sent us that message about the goat’s path, to lure us into your trap that instead resulted in your demise. Is this hubris, too?”

 

Intruder chortled. “Have you forgotten? I aimed to kill your time. It was not I who informed you of my Achilles’ heel, not even as a trap! I would have you take a little longer probing my defences and earn your right to a final confrontation.” Her gaze flickered. “However, I do have an inkling who might have informed you of the route.”

 

“W-what’s that?” Sop II sniffed about, then exclaimed, “Something’s burning!”

 

The servers whined aloud, filling the room with acrid smoke. 

 

“Fetch David and MDR! Now!” 

 

Skorpion and Makarov sprung towards the exit like winded springs. Yet, despite their hurry, it was clear the cyberwarfare specialists would not arrive in time to arrest the servers’ deterioration.

 

“It appears my hourglass has emptied its sand. A pity. I was beginning to enjoy our dalliance.” She sighed again and turned her gaze once more upon the false eyes.

 

Her image broke into disintegrating pixels. 

 

“Curtain…call, my dear…Commander. I look f-ward to our reunion, re- under a sang-ine sky, on wind- plains of bloo-ained iron. Do try…live…until then…least.”

 

The screens blacked out, and the servers fell silent. 

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