Blue One is the point man, leaping the three meters onto the heated surface as he rolls into position. Following closely behind him Blue Three clears his flank with her sidearm, Blue Two the last in the building.

Room was completely obliterated, the few unlucky personnel within barely identifiable from shattered organic components. Stations at waist height break up the clustered debris, the launch control computers held within evaporated.

“Room clear.” Blue One reports as he moves towards the staircase, weapon readied.

Leading downwards, the first defender climbing up for a counter assault is gunned down without hesitation.

“Hostiles on the staircase.” The man reports.

Firing in full automatic, the spray of rifle rounds is enough to drain the magazine in less than three seconds, the Marine taking a knee behind a broken console. “Reloading!”

The gap in fire is exploited, voices down the stairway reacting as the march of footsteps approaches their position.

Blue Two fiddles with a shaped half-brick of plastic explosive, glancing towards incoming hostiles. “Give me ten seconds!”

Bracing her anti-material rifle against an overturned table, Blue Three aims right at the staircase entrance, taking a deep breath as the shadowed forms reach the apex of their climb.

The roar of high caliber rounds is enough to trigger the safety dampeners within combat helmets, white hot noise compounded tenfold through the confined space. Concrete cover is shredded, dust and debris exploding from impact as the counterattack is repelled from pure intimidation.

Cycling the weapon’s bolt, Blue Two adjusts her angle downward; the next round sent through the wall echoing screams and the brutal sound of tearing bone.

“Fire your weapon in burst.” Corporal Mercier advises the Master Sergeant.

“Ok!” The man replies as he charges a fresh magazine into the rifle.

Putting an armored glove on his back the Combat Engineer motions forward. “You still remember how to do this?!”

“I think so.” The Orbital Marine nods.

Training takes over, instincts of ground warfare perpetuated by fresh trainees returning fast through racing minds. Advancing under covering fire the pair moves in.

A hostile form peaks around the corner, Blue Two sending a four round burst that carves through the unarmored man.

“Fire in the hole!” Blue Two bites as he slides behind the entry point.

A tiny ball of plastic explosives wrapped with detonator cord is chucked down the hall, the Combat Engineer waiting for panicked voices before activating the device.

Force not enough to outright kill, but brutal enough that the entire room reels back from raw power, ears bleeding and eyes blinded.

“BREACH!” Blue One orders as he slides down the staircase alone.

Eight hostile forms are identified in the room directly to the right of the stairs, six at immediate front. Blue One’s rifle roars as the barely controlled spray annihilates four, the two remaining targets shortly spared as the weapon coughs out its final round.

One of the soldiers barely has time to react as the bulky form of Blue One sprints at him full speed, the Marine sliding underneath the Defender’s assault rifle as an armored hand shatters the man’s windpipe.

A sheathed handgun is spotted on the crumpling figure’s waist, Blue One grabbing the weapon as he turns to his next target.

Rifle raised the next defender’s burst of fire is aimed directly at the Marine, rounds catching air as the shape rolls beneath the stream of lead. Slapping aside the long barrel, Blue One jams the handgun directly beneath his target’s jaw, a single shot executing the man.

Behind Blue One both the Combat Engineer and Marksman set down suppressing fire on the staircase, the entry point locked with a flurry of rounds.

“Contacts, on the stairs.” Blue Three reports.

Without pause Blue One joins them, diving down the slick, blood soaked steps as his squad mates kneel to reload.

A defender peaks around the corner, his sub machine gun ripped from his grasp by armored hands as the Marine sends five rounds directly into center mass. A clenched fist to the unhelmeted head takes the man down, the newly acquired weapon turning against hostile force.

On the first floor a close quarters firefight erupts, Blue One sliding past the visual range of his squad mates as he slides into the room.

Lieutenant Keys groans. “Fuck not again…”

Slipping down the stairs the pair make haste, the screams of men and the chattering of gunfire echoing through cold concrete halls.

It takes fifteen seconds for them to clamber their way through, the heavy weight of Keys’ pack along with the clumsy rifle of Mercier demands grave care on steps littered with bodies and debris.

Weapons raised in arrival, the two stop at the scene.

Painted with carnage, the forms of a dozen neutralized hostiles cover the ground. Knocked over tables repurposed for cover are broken with explosive force, the surrounding walls riddled with bullet holes and blood. Unidentifiable bodies were splayed in different states of death, a chaotic mixture of stab and gunshot wounds raked across the scattered remains.

At the far end of the administration room Blue One rips his knife out of the final defender’s neck, shoving the limp body onto the floor. For a moment the Marine reacts to the incoming pair, blade at the ready before relaxing at familiar uniforms.

“Clear.” Blue One reports with a strained voice.

Below him the figure gurgles out muddled words, life ended as the Marine caves in the man’s head with a single stomp.

“You two…” Catching his breath, Master Sergeant Ling tries to find the correct word. “智慧聚會...”

“Secure intel.” Keys crudely translates as he notes the server infrastructure at the far end of the room. “Got it.”

Corporal Mercier blinks in shock at the sight. “Putain merde…”

“Don’t worry you’ll get used to this sort of thing with Ling around.” Keys taps her shoulder as he jogs over towards a server rack. “Where’d you get the knife by the way?”

“Him.” The Man points at the body snapped over a table as he doubles over. “操....”

Transceiver removed from his pocket the Combat Engineer finds an input slot, plugging in the device as he reports on the command channel. “Checkmate this is Blue Two, confirm electronic entry.”

“Copy that Blue Two, beginning download sequence.” Checkmate replies hastily, his voice fading through interference. “Advi….ed… con…, peat… cau…”

“Say again Checkmate.” Blue Two requests to static. “Say again.”

The response is blanketed by noise, Blue Two gritting his teeth. “Fuck.”

“What is the problem?” Master Sergeant Ling asks as he begins picking through hostile remains.

Lieutenant Keys slaps his helmet as the connection drops again. “Negative contact with Checkmate. FUCK.”

“What does it mean?” Corporal Mercier follows up.

“Means we got no way to get intel out.” Keys informs. “Which means we’re fucked unless we want to do a direct transfer to a hard drive.”

“You brought a hard drive?”

“I always bring a hard drive.” The Combat Engineer pauses. “But doing a direct server transfer’s going to take time we don’t have, and someone’s going to need to babysit this fucking thing while it’s at it.”

The Master Sergeant activates his radio. “Alpha Leader this is Blue One, we have completed breach and need assistance in building.”

Tactical link severed, the squad is completely cut from the rest of the operation.

“NOW of ALL times!” Keys yells through his helmet.

“Any unit, please copy.” Blue One transmits to the black.

In echoing silence the Corporal speaks up. “This is bad.”

“Very bad.” Lieutenant Keys adds.

“I would disagree actually.” Within the squad channel a new voice arrives, smooth with a near artificial undertone, familiar to one. “Given the clandestine nature of this intelligence gathering operation, I took the liberty of keeping specific, sensitive data out of the hands of your compatriots.”

“T.A.C.?!” Lieutenant Keys answers with surprise.

A confused glance is given between squad members, the Master Sergeant replying. “Who is this?!”

“Good to know that your memory is still functional Lieutenant.” T.A.C. replies with a hint of sarcasm. “To the rest of you, my name is T.A.C., it is a pleasure to finally meet all of you. Admiral Tucker has assigned me to your Operation as its electronic warfare specialist and intelligence officer.”

“So this is the one the Admiral mentioned?” Master Sergeant Ling immediately notes.

“I wouldn’t put it up to the Admiral to openly admit the identity of a non-combatant entity within what could be classified as a ‘black operation.’” T.A.C. explains with a bored note.

“Good to hear from you again T.A.C.” Keys responds with a contained surprise. “So what the fuck were you doing this whole time?!”

“Standard digital infiltration of national defense systems. I estimate three more hours before Central Asia Coalition forces are able to mount a sizable counter attack to this current raid.” T.A.C. shrugs within the communication line. “But at the moment I am in the process of downloading all available digital data stored within the central server at this facility, via your transmission vector of course. Transfer time will take thirty minutes.”

“That is fast.” Corporal Mercier notes.

“Data compression is a technology that is currently seeing great improvement with the advent of interplanetary communications. Note: this transfer is reaping the benefits of a new source encoding theory published by the University of California Los Angeles in order to shorten the time it takes to transmit and receive information from Camp Ares.” T.A.C. informs. “Though, I do believe your other objective needs to be completed.”

“Right.” Keys turns over to the squad’s leader. “Ling…”

“Over there.” The man points with an armored glove. “It is a door leading into the tunnels.”

A singular hunk of metal shaped as a storage cabinet, completely unremarkable against concrete walls.

“That mechanism is a one point seven two meter wide storage unit disguising an entrance to a network of bunkers beneath this launch complex, despite its initial perception.” T.A.C. instructs. “These were built during the early 1990s and expanded further in the late 2020s when this location was still the central facility for ballistic missile development. According to architectural plans, this system is now used as a network of fallout shelters in case of an attack.”

“Can we trust him Keys?” Master Sergeant Ling asks his squadmate.

“This is the guy who turned off my suit’s life support system to get a hack done.” Keys replies.

T.A.C. sighs. “It was a necessary procedure to accomplish mission objectives. Amendment: Lieutenant Keys’ risk of suffocation was extraordinarily low due to having nearby deployed squadmates to assist in the case of an asphyxiation event. Such an act was an acceptable alternative to the preemptive detonation of the satellite weapon.”

Lieutenant Keys takes a minute to unravel the words. “Still.”

“Admiral Tucker has given me authorization to intervene within this operation, and despite your previous dispositions Lieutenant the information I provide will create an optimal avenue for mission completion.”

There’s a long pause, Keys sighing as he laces his reply with sarcasm. “Fucking electronic warfare officers.”

“T.A.C. is an asshole.” Mercier adds.

“If that is your initial impression of me Corporal I will take that into consideration.” The voice replies. “Either way, I have marked the bunker entrance on your heads up display.”

A red form highlights the solid hunk of metal.

Carefully approaching the dull steel cabinet, Lieutenant Keys stops as he notices the padlock. “It’s locked.”

The Master Sergeant strolls over, the butt of his rifle aimed against the small device.

T.A.C. interrupts unceremoniously. “The code is one-one-one-two.”

Ling hesitates as he watches the Lieutenant input the code. “Really?”

“An internal email memo has confirmed it.”

With a click the lock opens.

“Fucking classic.” Keys steps back as he opens the door, rifle at the ready as he peers down into the entrance.

Ancient lights hang from the walls as they illuminate downwards, the tight stairs leading towards a distant hallway.

Blue One pauses. “This is a bad place to get into a firefight.”

Blue Three nods. “I agree.”

“There are currently two hostiles in this sector of the bunker system.” T.A.C. reports. “Located within Bunker Room Four. They are unarmed.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have gained access to this facility’s internal security system with the applied passcode of one-one-one-three. All hardware is interlinked, and therefore a single vulnerability within one terminal allows for root access from any location. Interesting methodology of system security design.”

Blue One pauses. “Is it?”

“That was a joke.” T.A.C. replies without humor. “Proceed thirty meters down this hallway, then to the branching hallway relative right you will encounter one garrison squad of six armed individuals after twenty four meters. They are currently guarding your primary objective.”

A quick inspection of firearms, Blue Team taking a moment to exchange glances. Blue One is the first to speak up. “Let us go then.”

Within such tight quarters the firefight boiled down into soul shattering shock and awe. The sound of fully automatic gunfire and grenades deafened by auditory limiters within advanced infantry combat suits, the fragmentation of thrown explosives caught by stacked plates of ceramic and Kevlar between sandwiched layers of kinetic gel.

Bathed in deep red emergency lighting the human eye is utterly blinded by muzzle flash, helmet sensors automatically dimming views as Blue Team advances forth.

Blue One leans out of a door frame as he sprays out a full magazine towards the hostile position down the hallway, rifle rounds penetrating the stacked crates of improvised cover and into the forms behind them.

Blue Two follows up with his own weapon, short bursts heralding a slow advance towards the specified target.

Beyond them a massive blast door begins to shut with extracting speed, the sealing of the facility’s compartments nonconsensual as T.A.C. dives deeper into the control system of Site-Three.

“One more around the corner!” Blue Three yells as she spots the movement of a lone shifting shape behind stacked crates.

Blue One takes the chance, sprinting past his squadmate as he turns the corner at full speed. Twenty five extra kilograms of armor plating augments muscular strength as the monster tackles the defender into concrete, physics transferring lethal kinetic force. The snap of bone breaking against a solid mass echoes as the blast door slams shut beside him, the final moments of life ended by a razor sharp blade to an unarmored chest.

“Clear.” Ling announces as he stands back from his work.

“Nice.” Lieutenant Keys cracks his neck as he jogs over to the designated door. Locked shut, the massive armored form stares back at the Combat Engineer with a taunting look. “Cover me.”

Switching audio systems to broadcast, Keys speaks forth to the room beyond as he begins to sort through his backpack. “Alright if you’re in there, stand back!!!”

Vigilant eyes watch their point of entry with absolute silence, the Engineer behind them removing paint cans of universal lockpicking thermite paste.

Through the communication channel an operation wide alert sounds, T.A.C. feeding the announcement through to the isolated squad. Speaking with authority, the Squad Leader’s tone is gripped with a cold report. “All units this is Charlie Team, we have green november. Repeat, green november.”

Keys takes a pause. “Guess they were right about the nuke.”

“Confirmed, it is a thirty kiloton nuclear device.” T.A.C. extrapolates. “Possession of one is a direct violation of the U.N. Nuclear Disarmament Act, of which this country is a signee.”

Ling stops. “If someone sets that off, 我們完蛋了...”

“Not if we’re in here we’re not.” Keys snaps gloved fingers. “This place could probably eat a megaton bunker buster ICBM no problem.”

“I do not want to test that.” Ling replies monotonically.

“Their explosive ordnance disposal technician are analyzing the device.” T.A.C. assures. “Two squads are currently defending the site. Alpha Team is providing disruption to the garrison’s defensive depl…”

The earth shakes slightly, dust kicked up as explosive force is transferred into the bunker system beneath Site-Three.

“What was that?” Ling asks as fluorescent emergency lights flicker from the impact.

“Alpha Team has called in heavy ordinance from the support drone.” T.A.C. informs. “Continue your operation.”

Plastering a thin layer of thermite onto the lock and hinges the Combat Engineer stands back, igniting a magnesium match as he turns to his squad. “Here we go.”

The thing burns with immense intensity, steel turning to slag as metal decays under the white-hot reaction.

“I will handle this.” Blue One turns as he marches towards the door. “Ready?”

“Remember that we are rescuing.” Blue Three informs calmly. “Killing them will not be a good idea.”

“Ling!” Blue Two yells as the thermite begins to burn out. “I’m doing it!”

“Ok ok!” The man grunts.

Blue Two puts a heavy foot to the door, the thing immediately falling into the darkened room with a massive thud.

The Squad Leader charges in with weapons raised, optical sensors immediately switching to night vision as darkness envelopes the form.

Out of his direct right a naked fist comes with desperate force, an unarmed, unseen combatant striking solid ceramic. Ligaments snap and bones crack, a broken hand the least of the individual’s concerns as Ling instinctively slams the butt of his rifle into the face of the unknown attacker.

Three more pile on, bodies tackling the System Defense Force Marine onto the ground as they claw at armor plating. An armored heel kicks one off, Master Sergeant Ling punching another as they reach for his weapon.

At maximum volume the voice is enough to shake the organs within chest cavities, suit speakers blaring out Lieutenant Keys’ shocked voice. “SYSTEM DEFENSE FORCE HANDS UP!!!”

An awkward silence as the fist fight stops.

Corporal Mercier joins in, her own speakers active as she repeats the order with her anti-material rifle pointed directly at the combatants. “HANDS UP NOW, LES MAINS EN L’AIR!!!”

Slowly the combatants peel off Ling, their hands raised as they stare at the heavily armed fireteam.

Four, all male. Unwashed and unshaved, full-color night vision slowly coming to sample their complexions underneath the spillage of emergency lighting. Urban-gray uniforms dirty from confinement, bruised faces now freshly wounded from the small skirmish.

Facial recognition software activates as each is scanned, a networked algorithm comparing automatically isolated photos of their forms against personnel photos.

“That's them.” Keys confirms, his suit speakers still activated as he accidentally broadcasts his voice out with insane volume. A dial turned and channel switched, the Lieutenant continues. “Yeah it’s them.”

Four Arsenal-Vertigo Private Military Contractors, four hostages now in the possession of an unknown force.

One of the Operators speaks, broad shouldered and sturdy build created in the womb of a single gravity. The man’s German accent fills the room with utter confusion. “Wo the fuck are you?!”

From the cold concrete ground the Master Sergeant pulls himself up, an introduction memorized and repeated as the software updates his name and designation from the mission archive. “Officer Mannessen, we are Blue Team. We are here to rescue you.”

“You’re U.N.” Another one of the Operators comments; a huge man standing almost two meters high, his heavy Russian accent burying barely understandable English.

Eyes turn to the main target, identification highlighted as a primary target within the system.

Operator Nikolai Chernyshevsky, Arsenal-Vertigo.

Black hair slicked back, an unkept beard slowly growing from stubble as cold eyes stare back at the armored forms. A body more muscular and massed than expected, the decay of microgravity somehow untouched upon bodily features.

“Are you?” The man asks again.

“Yes we are.” Ling answers from a rise in celebration.

“We’re here to get you out.” Lieutenant Keys bridges from his comrade. “Any of you injured?”

One of the individuals clutches his hand, the limb dangling from combat damage.

Operator Chernyshevsky motions towards the rescuing squad, an accent barely receivable. “I need morphine, now!”

Ling and Keys search their own tactical vests for the ordered item, while Corporal Mercier immediately tosses an autoinjector from a sorted vest towards the medic.

A brilliant catch as the man observes the item; orange tip catching red emergency lighting in monotone, white instruction text written in five languages processed immediately. Medical knowledge applied as chemicals are injected into the injured man, nerves dulled.

Blue One switches channels to upper command. “T.A.C. I need to speak to the rest of the operation.”

The smooth voice returns quickly. “Copy, patching you in.”

A distinct Asian accent, the Squad Leader begins. “Checkmate, this is Blue Team. We have achieved primary objectives. How do you read?”

Radio signals deteriorated from meters of distance within the Bunker Complex, the surprised voice is barely audible. “Blue Team this is Checkmate, advise location.”

“We are still under the launch control center, preparing to move hostages out.”

The angry tone of Alpha Leader returns, an audio slightly muffled by large caliber gunfire. “Hurry the fuck up Blue Team, we’re taking heavy fire up here and need your asses now!”

A tactical map pings as red arrows begin to close in on positions, a counter offensive beginning above them.

“Copy Alpha Team, we are coming!” Blue One turns to the rest of his squad. “We need to go.” Pointing to the four unarmed personnel he speaks with cold authority. “You, stay behind us. Do not get killed please.”