"Ambush!"
Bailey's shout tore through the chaos as she fought to control the truck. Her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as she yanked it hard to the right, narrowly avoiding another collision.
The screech of metal against concrete grated in Rion's ears, followed by the stomach-churning thud of something -no, someone-slamming against the truck's side.
He caught a glimpse of the blood streaked across the window before Bailey brought the truck to a grinding halt, its armored sides now offering partial cover against the incoming hail of bullets from the darkened alleys. Smoke curled upward from the truck's abused engine, mingling with the low-hanging fog to create a hazy veil over the battlefield.
"Out! Out! Out!" the bald man shouted, throwing open the back door and leaping out, his massive frame moving with surprising agility as he brought his weapon to bear.
The others didn't need to be told twice. Rion was already unbuckling himself, landing in a crouch as his boots hit the pavement. Around him, the team scrambled into defensive positions and scanned the surroundings.
He spotted movement from the alleys across the road—figures emerging from the shadows, guns in hand. These were undoubtedly the local gang members they had been warned about, but what concerned him more was the sniper. A shooter with such precision was no ordinary thug.
He peered out, trying to locate any glint of a rifle scope or movement that might betray the shooter's position. He felt a sharp pang of frustration; the darkness and fog made it nearly impossible to see beyond a few yards.
"Watch out for the sniper!" Rion hissed, his voice low but urgent as he pressed himself against the side of the truck.
«Clang! Clang!»
The area had erupted into chaos. Bullets continued to ping off the truck's reinforced sides as the gang members fired wildly, the metallic clangs echoing through the street.
The bald man, whose name he still didn't know, nodded grimly. "We need to take them out before they get closer," he said, his tone all business now.
"Watch the left!" Bailey's snapped. She was crouched near the truck, wiping blood from her forehead as she fired at the nearest attackers. Her movements were deliberate, sharp, and just shy of frantic. "They're splitting up. Rosa, rear! Forger, Li He, keep them from swarming us!"
Rosa, the long armed guy, shifted to the back of the truck with a predator's grace, his limbs which were now unnaturally elongated giving him a reach and angle the others couldn't hope for. His rifle barked in sharp bursts, the steady rhythm pinning down anyone who dared get too close. "Left alley!" he called, his voice cutting through the chaos. "They're trying to flank!"
Rion caught the flicker of movement in the shadows just as Rosa opened fire, the bullets sparking off broken concrete and rusted railings. Smaller and more agile, he darted forward to toss a small explosive that erupted with a deafening crack, before moving back to a better vantage point, his magnetic handguns at the ready.
Bullets whizzed past his head as he returned fire, aiming to keep the advancing gang members pinned down. The bald man, Li He did the same, his larger firearm providing a heavier barrage.
As the two groups exchanged gunfire and the night filled with the sounds of combat, Rion focused on keeping his shots steady. Despite the chaos, his training kicked in, and he found himself falling into a rhythm, alternating between shooting and scanning for the sniper.
Then, a flicker of movement on a rooftop caught his eye. His instincts screamed a warning, and he dove to the side, ducking beside the truck's wheel just as a shot rang out. The bullet missed him by inches, embedding itself in the ground where he'd just been standing.
How bad is my luck to be facing a high level Operative on my second assignment?
Rion clenched his teeth as he pressed himself against the truck's side, his mind racing. Snipers weren't just expensive—they were rare. It was especially hard to find one that had good enough marksmanship to be able to blow a moving target's head off at this distance. Cultivating a marksman with this level of skill required years of training and a fortune in resources, something the gangsters shooting at him should lack in spades.
He guessed that the shooter on the other side was most likely a mercenary who had taken a job. Whoever had hired this Operative had deep pockets and a clear agenda.
We need to take care of that guy in order to have breathing space.
He had pinpointed the rough location of the sniper with the last shot, but reaching it was another matter. He wouldn't be able to aim his guns properly due to the interference from the gangsters and the sniper himself.
He needed something special.
Another shot rang out, this one missing Bailey and striking the side of the truck with a metallic clang. Ignoring it, he took a deep breath and steadied himself, focusing on initiating the flow of origin energy coursing through his body. With a subtle gesture, he activated [Combat Frenzy II], causing adrenaline to surge through his veins like a tidal wave, heightening every reflex and dulling his sense of fear.
He strangely became calmer even though he was under the assault of the goons' gunfire. Under the effect of [Combat Frenzy II], his brain rapidly began to process all the variables and data in his surroundings.
Rion's mind began to process the battle like a finely tuned machine. His enhanced state allowed him to perceive minute details he normally wouldn't have noticed. The muzzle flashes of the gangsters' guns revealed their positions. The subtle sway of the fog hinted at where the sniper was moving. Even the angles of the bullets ricocheting off the truck gave him clues about the sniper's firing trajectory.
The sniper's perch was roughly 200 meters away, on a rooftop that had partial cover. The angle suggested they were using a suppressed bolt-action rifle, likely one with enhanced optics to compensate for the low visibility. His incendiary rounds could potentially ignite a distraction near the sniper's location, but to make the shot count, he'd need to account for wind, elevation, and the slight interference caused by the firefight below.
He glanced at Bailey and the others. Their suppressive fire was holding the gang members back, but it wouldn't last long. If they were unlucky, one sniper's subsequent shots would hit one of them, and he couldn't afford to lose an attacker on his side at this time.
His brain whirred with calculations as he swapped the clip containing the ferromagnetic rounds for the incendiary ones: Distance to target: aprroximately 200 meters. Elevation angle: approximately 65 degrees. Wind direction: south-southwest at 3 meters per second. Time to target: 1.5 seconds. Margin of error: less than 0.3 degrees.
Both of Rion's hands clenched around his weapons as he muttered to himself, "This is going to be tight."
He needed to clear a path for himself and distract the sniper long enough to take the shot. His incendiary rounds wouldn't just light up the sniper's position—they'd create an explosion of light and heat that would force them to reposition, giving his team a much-needed window of opportunity.
"I've got the sniper," he hissed, barely audible over the clamor. "Top floor, second building on the right."
Bailey twisted her head toward him, her eyes sharp. "You sure?"
"Positive. I have a plan! Focus fire on the right alley! Force those goons to give me some breathing space as I take down the asshole!"
Bailey hesitated, her brow furrowed as she wiped more blood from her temple. She glanced at Rion, her expression torn. She was aware that this was only his second assignment. Trusting a rookie with such a bold move felt like handing a grenade to a toddler. But the sniper was picking them apart, and staying pinned down wasn't an option.
She weighed the risks quickly. If Rion failed, they were dead anyway. If he succeeded, they'd at least have a chance. The sniper wasn't just a problem; they were the problem. Every calculated shot forced her team to keep their heads down, boxed into cover that was slowly becoming their grave. Without the sniper's suppressive fire pinning them, those goons in the alley would be nothing more than target practice.
Untrained, sloppy, and overconfident, the gangsters barely knew how to hold their weapons properly. They relied on sheer numbers and blind luck, neither of which would matter if her team had the freedom to maneuver. Without the sniper locking them down, she and the rest could easily outflank those idiots, gun them down, or even cut a clean escape route.
"Fine," she barked, her voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. "Rosa, Li He, shift fire to the right! Keep them busy! Don't let up for even a second!"
Li He leaned out of cover just enough to send a few shots toward the alley, his lip curling in disdain. "You're kidding me, right? The rookie has a plan? Since when are we taking life advice from someone who probably learned this in a training sim?"
"Yeah, this reeks of last-ditch desperation." Rosa's tone was casual, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his unease.
Bailey glared at them both, her voice low and lethal. "I'm not asking you to believe in him. I'm asking you to follow my lead. Unless you've got a better idea, I suggest you shut up and shoot."
After a short argument, the team obeyed, albeit reluctantly. They both followed Bailey's lead, pouring suppressive fire toward the advancing gangsters on the right. The hail of bullets forced the attackers to scatter, buying precious moments of respite.
As the gangsters' suppressive fire waned in intensity, Rion gripped his weapons tighter. He crouched low, his heart pounding against his ribs.
One chance. That's all I've got.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, mentally preparing himself. When they opened, a cold determination replaced the remaining nervous tension that the [Combat Frenzy II] technique hadn't manged to chase away. He shouted at the top of his lungs, the sound cutting through the cacophony of the battle.
"[OVERCLOCK!]"
As the word left his mouth, arcs of blue electricity began to surge from his arms into both guns.
The arcs of electricity crackling around his arms intensified, subtly illuminating the immediate area with a ghostly blue glow. The guns in his hand seemed to hum with power, resonating with the energy coursing through his body. The air around him crackled, and his eyes burned with a focused intensity.
With the knowledge that he had about 15 seconds or so till his energy reserves ran out under the effect of [Overclock], he activated his [Dash] technique. With a sudden burst of speed, he surged out from behind the truck, his movements a blur of agility and precision. Blue arcs of electricity crackled and danced along his body, leaving a dazzling blue trail as he sprinted to the lightly cleared area.
The goons who had him in their line of sight opened fire, bullets tearing through the air around him. However, Rion wove through the chaos, his enhanced reflexes making it seem as though he anticipated the shots before they were fired. A stray round grazed his shoulder, but he didn't falter, his focus honed to a razor's edge.
The sniper, perched high above, seized the opportunity, his scope trained on Rion. A sharp crack split the air as they pulled the trigger.
Rion's instincts screamed, and he pivoted sharply, the shot narrowly missing him by a hair's breadth. He dropped low, twisting his body mid-movement as he came to a stop in a crouched stance. In the same motion, he raised both of his handguns, their barrels glowing faintly with the Resonance energy coursing through them.
The sniper had exposed himself just long enough to take the shot, his position now locked in Rion's enhanced vision. His enhanced mind adjusted for the wind, elevation and other subtle variables in a fraction of a second.
Target acquired. Execute!
«Whizz!»
«Whizz!»
In one fluid motion, two streaks of blue light erupted from his guns, cutting through the haze of battle.