A Hybrid's Retribution (Old)

Grim Skies

Noah finishes folding his parachute and loads it back into its pack while being fully alert to his surroundings. A single plane passes out of sight overhead as it begins its long flight back home.

A little nauseous from the long skydiving journey, Noah did his best to keep his lunch down while waiting to hear from Hector.

"Good luck down there, both of you." Damian says into the radio as the plane soon flies out of sight.

"Thank you Damian, I'll signal in advance when we need extraction." Hector's voice sounded on the radio, slightly choppy.

"Understood. Goodbye." Damian responded one last time before the frequency clicked signaling Damian's disconnection.

Noah gripped his carbine tightly as he began to move his way down the street he landed in. It was his first drop as a paratrooper and the long fall had made him a little queasy.

"Hector? W-What's your location?" Noah questioned into his radio, keeping his breathing steady.

"I'm on the front porch- parliament building. Where did- Noah?" Hector's voice came through, static breaking his words.

"Hector you're breaking up, say again."

"Noah-" Hector's voice called out once more before going to straight static.

Noah quickly figured that Hector was out of range and he needed to get closer. From where he landed to the parliament building was at least a few miles away and it would probably take him thirty minutes to jog the whole way there. Double checking his gear one last time, Noah began to walk down the empty streets of the great city.

Noah had landed just north of Lambeth on the east side of the River Thames, to get to Westminster where the palace stood, Noah would have to cross over the Westminster bridge which wouldn't be a problem aside from the fact that a few good parts of the bridge were blown out.

Naoh traversed the bridge carefully, being wary of the few craters and bloodied sandbag barriers, however oddly enough there were no bodies. That was odd as blood splatter stains were visible on the bridge, however there wasn't a single body in sight.

Noah pressed on as he finally made it to the other side, Big Ben still stood although the top of the clock tower was exposed as most of the covering material had been blown away. He walked up to the side of the great clock tower and reached to his ear piece.

"Hec', I'm at Big Ben and right around the corner from the parliament building. Where are you at?"

"Glad to hear you without the static. How was the fall?" Hector responds.

"If you wanna look around next time for a runway, that'd be great. I'm still a little nauseous."

Hector let's put on a smile as he wanted to laugh at Noah for his first drop nausea. Hector had been on countless air drops as he used to be a paratrooper when the war first started. The nickname for their unit originally came from other infantry and armored units who watched them fall from planes or high altitudes descending right into combat hot zones or behind enemy lines.

Sooner or later their reputation grew, bringing about the creation of their signature ballistic masks and eventually earning the nickname "High-Landers". Cole and Noah thought it was funny that the name sounded exactly like the Scottish myth, the requirement for that name was simply to be born and raised in the highland mountains. Or the old pop culture character of an immortal man who could never die unless he was beheaded. Hector wasn't even born in Scotland but the small joke still made him happy.

Hector's smile faded at the thought of the three of them together and the small happiness he felt immediately diminished.

"Hey you good?" Noah asked, derailing Hector's train of thought.