PART TWO

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Her rifle was brought to her shoulder, bumping her mud-ridden uniform as she pulled the trigger. Her hand snapped back, ejecting a spent casing before racking in a fresh one.
  Her bullet hit its mark, downing a Mid-East soldier as he ran. They were caught off guard, utterly surprised with barely any time to gather their wits and arms. Their only chance of survival was to retreat, and so they fled to their tunnels, avoiding screaming Eldians who shot them down from above or chased them with reckless abandon.
  Yvonne's spine tingled as a wave of goosebumps covered her skin. Her goal was within sight, she could feel it just within grasp. So with her mouth wide, she bore her teeth in a bloody war cry.
  She rounded a corner with her rifle ready and waiting. A bullet snapped past her head, splintering a wooden beam to her six. Aiming, she fired, missing her target.
  The soldier before her fumbled with his bolt, locking it in place. Before he could get the next round off, Yvonne charged, meeting him with her bayonet lodging deep into his chest.
  She gave the man a mighty push, dropping him. With her weapon still buried in him, she twisted it and brought it to her side. The long blade opened his chest, cutting flesh and muscle alike as it glided along his collarbone.
  The shock trooper ripped her weapon free and racked the bolt. Her next target stood with his hands raised as he screamed a repeating phrase in his language. Whatever it was, it fell on deaf ears.
  A pull of a trigger dropped him, then another shot killed a bedridden soldier, emptying the triage.
  Gunfire popped down the tunnel, mingling with the screams of enemies and allies alike. The sound was like a dinner bell ringing, beckoning Yvonne and bringing her forward like she hadn't eaten in days.
  Her pack and equipment jingled as she marched deeper into the cavern. Her mask's filters worked overtime with adrenaline coursing through her veins. She didn't care for replacing them, she didn't expect them to last longer than her.
  Gunfire erupted in the darkness, flashing orange with powder and gas. Red splashed on Yvonne's shoulder with a faint pinch she ignored. With her rifle still in her hands, she fired blindly, inciting a scream and shout of panic.
  Her hands were a blur as she emptied her rifle before sliding in a fresh clip. Soon, she stomped over two corpses with their grenades primed in her hand.
  Hugging the wall, Yvonne tossed the grenade around the next corner. The coming pop made her ears ring and her enemies scream. The few lanterns inside were destroyed, leaving just a few meager headlamps for the enemies to use.
  She caught a quick peek around the way, firing while doing so to suppress the opposition. When her gun ran dry, she tossed another grenade. As the ground shook and she stood deaf, she charged in.
  Terror was written all over a man's face when he saw the faceless soldier close the distance between them. Every blemish and fold on his face became prominent when her bayonet erupted out of the back of his neck.
  The next soldier in line was more experienced than the last. He raised his curved sword, deflecting her blow. He then countered, thrusting his sword around her guard and scoring a flesh wound on her arm.
  Yvonne's teeth were grit and her eyes wide, something the soldier couldn't see but feel when she retaliated.
  With a death grip on her rifle, her stock shot out, nailing the man in the nose and breaking it. He recoiled but remained focused, however, the split second of rest was interrupted when Yvonne sprinted right at him.
  He braced himself, almost immediately stopping her in her tracks. Unbeknownst to him, Yvonne prepared for this.
  Reaching up, the shock trooper locked her arm around his extended wrist, pivoted around, and brought him down with bent knees. The man wasn't expecting to see such strength, let alone training from someone her size. Underestimating her cost him greatly, because before he knew it Yvonne had him on his back with her shovel digging deep into the side of his neck.
  The young trooper twisted and wrenched her entrenching tool, snapping his neck and creating a river of bright blood.
  Before she had the chance to catch her breath, loud and earth-shaking explosions erupted overhead, rattling the tunnels down to their foundations. The tunnels would hold, the catch was what came from down the way.
  "GAS!" Shouted an Eldian soldier. "GAS!"
  Yvonne reached up to double-check the seal on her mask. Her ragged breaths masked another soldier's approach until it was too late. One of the surviving men charged, shouting before pushing her to the ground. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs and left her reeling.
  The soldiers said a string of curses, directing them toward her with such venom that she could scoff at his gall.
  The man continued his assault, kicking her square in the ribs, putting a sharp pain in her side. The feeling of a bruised rib was drowned in adrenaline however, pushing her into a quick and surprising recovery.
  Yvonne raised her hands in relaxed palms, readying herself with a defensive stance. Her enemy had half a head on her with maybe an extra thirty kilograms. The odds certainly weren't in her favor. But that was something she would judge for herself.
  The man charged again, looking to topple her with his hands gripping her uniform. As he made contact however, she stepped back and twisted her torso, redirecting his weight and momentum with such force that she had him on his back.
  Yvonne followed up on her opening. She crawled forward and brought her elbow down, bringing it across his cheek. As he was left jarred, she did it once more, then a third time, and then a fourth. His cheekbone broke and his dark skin was turning even darker with intense swelling.
  Before she could break or dislocate something else, he gathered his wits and reached out, palming her mask and pulling.
  Yvonne was left blinded, disoriented. Thinking fast, she locked his arm in place and struck down, jabbing at his elbow with all her might. The result was an instant retreat, unmasking her and allowing the dirt from the ceiling to mix with the sweat on her scalp.
   The young trooper was relentless in her assault. Punches with all her weight put behind them cracked across his jaw, stunning him. Seeing her opportunity, she acted. Her hands wrapped around his head, holding him in place before her thumbs curled and jabbed into his eyes.
   The horrible pain she inflicted had the man screaming and kicking at the ground. He pushed and clawed at her face, leaving his mark with thin streaks of irritated skin and drops of blood. Before long, Yvonne's thumbs were buried deep in his eye sockets and he lay still, dead.
   Another explosion rocked the tunnel, spewing down grains of dirt. Meanwhile, somewhere down the labyrinth of dirt and wood, men and women began to cough and choke on toxic gas. The fumes were spreading quickly, sure to reach her in a matter of minutes.
  Exposed on both sides, Yvonne worked quickly to make sure her mask was properly set and airtight. Only there was a problem. Her shoulder and arm were kissed with the outside air, making the warm and wet spots on her uniform more prominent.
It's... punctured. She thought with adrenaline quickly flushing out of her system. It left her legs shaky and her wounds sting with elation.
  With a deep and tired sigh, she let her back hit the wall before sitting altogether. Thanks to the holes in her uniform she was sure to perish with the others. She felt shame and regret flood her body before relief and joy took over. It wasn't the way she would have preferred going out, but it was still what she came here to do.
  And with that, she let her head rest against the trembling wall, and her eyes close shut. Her ears rang from the overwhelming gunfire and explosions, but it soon came together into one, relaxing tone that would lull her to sleep.
  "...Y!" Suddenly there was a voice. It was small and just barely peeked over the surrounding destruction. "HEY!"
  There it was again. Yvonne was brought back to the fold with a hand gripping her good shoulder and shaking her. She had no reason to panic when they shared the same tongue.
  Opening her eyes, the young woman was greeted with the sight of another gas mask. Whoever it was that found her couldn't be discerned from the others. The only fact she could be sure of was that it was a man.
  "HERE! TAKE MINE!" He screamed before pulling his mask off and unbuttoning his coat. What lay underneath was wrinkled and scarred flesh. It had never hit her before just how old their officer was.
  "NO!" Yvonne shook her head. "YOU'RE FAR TOO VALUABLE, SIR!"
  "THE MISSION COMES FIRST!" He screamed back. With his coat and bandolier removed, he pulled her to her feet and pushed the garment into her hands. "GO! I'VE DONE MY PART! NOW DO YOURS!"
  The old man wasn't fit for battle. He was at his best when he begrudgingly sat at a table or ordered soldiers around. Yvonne realized his time was up a long time ago. Now his equipment and gear were better left with her.
  He turned her and ushered her away, supposedly away from the gas. His order was received and flipped a mental switch, making her remove her shirt, grab her rifle, shovel, and extra ammo before donning his coat.
  Somewhere in the madness of explosions, thunder, and gunfire, she could hear his gasps for air. By now, she figured, his eyes would be bleeding and his insides melting. It was a fate she thought was hers a mere moment ago.
  Her training kicked in, making her secure her gear and double-check any seal before pulling the bolt to her weapon, priming it.
  With envy buried deep in her heart, she made her way down the pitch-black tunnel.

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