Lmao listen to the music its kinda fire
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"Commander! Entering enemy territory. ETA 15 minutes to their vectors."
I nodded slightly, glancing at the clock, which was dangling on the rearview mirror.
It was 3AM.
The darkness was absolute.
However flawed the digital clock was, the illumination still seemed like a luxury, especially when exemplified against the pitch, black sky.
Clouds shrouded the moon and covered up the light.
It was a night of no stars.
I wonder how many more restless working hours I have to endure, as a member of this PMC.
"Um, 36?" M4A1's voice suddenly interrupts..
"Yes?"
"Do we have NVGs? Y'know, because of nighttime operations?"
Night vision goggles.
Whoops. Sorry. HQ didn't send us any. Our commander doesn't have money. Not my fault.
This damned system G&K adapted though. HQ pays nothing except for the commander's wages. What do they expect us to do, when we need certain attachments or specific kinds of dolls? Manufacture it ourselves, or purchase directly from IOP?
Fucking ridiculous.
"Well," I thought for a moment, assuming and hoping that we'd get lucky, "We should be here just to collect your members and leave. Commander says it's unlikely any Sangvis personnel would be active."
As if on cue, a muzzle flash interrupted my statement.
There was barely any time to react before a bullet screeched into the engine.
It was as if the car was rammed into a wall. Glass shattered as the hull was thrown forward violently, throwing all of us airborne before heaving onto the ground in a massive thud.
Silence pursued as the dust sets.
"Shit." I groaned loudly, ignoring the ringing in my ears. Scrambling upwards, I glanced around wildly inspcting the damage, before crawling behind the disfigured car.
The Toyota wasn't blasted apart by the high explosive ammo, all thanks to its reinforced chassis. Still, it managed to throw the AK-74M, who manned the DShK, off.
"What the fuck..?"
The Soviets, C-MS and M4A1 were dragging themselves from the ground. Apart from the clothes, they seemed fine.
Mosin Nagant was nowhere to be seen.
"M4? Where's Mosin?" C-MS' voice rang out moments later.
M4A1 looked at the disfigured car.
Her gaze said it all.
"She's done."
Suddenly, the identical purple muzzle flash.
"GET DOWN!" Noticing it from the corner of my eye, I drop to the ground, dragging 9A-91 and C-MS with me.
M4A1 dashes out to drag her into cover.
But she was too slow.
A bullet embeds itself into AK-74M's leg.
A shrill scream of pain.
More bullets ricochet off the steel chassis.
At that very moment, it was the most frightening sound.
"YOU! YES! C-MS!" M4A1 started screaming instructions, shedding her demure personality, "Contact the commander!"
